A Necessary Sin (The Sin Trilogy 1)

“Ye’ve brought me and my eldest back together. I didn’t know that was possible after all the years we spent apart. I thought Thane had made him hate me the way he does.”

“Did you always hate one another?” I ask.

“No, Thane loved me when we were first married. I was the one in love with someone else and I blamed him for keeping us apart. Ma coldness eventually turned him into a different person—one nobody could love.” That isn’t true. I’m certain my mother loved Thane.

It’s a peculiar thought—that she could’ve been in love with a monster—until I remember who I love. Am I not following in her footsteps? Is Sin not a younger version of his father?

“Would ye care for tea?”

It looks as though we’ll be waiting a while longer. “I would.”

I turn to leave the window and Isobel gets up from her seat. “No, lass. I’ll take care of it. You keep watch.”

A moment later she comes into the living room carrying a tray. “Ye take two cubes and a dash of milk?”

“Yes.” She remembers from the few days I spent at her house while Sin was in the hospital.

I stir the hot tea, trying to cool it faster.

“Bleu, do ye ever wonder why ye’ve allowed yerself to get mixed up in this lunacy?”

“I’d be lying if I said no. But then I think of Sin and I know exactly why.” I bring my tea to my lips to try a small sip but it’s still too hot. “He’ll be in bad shape, won’t he?”

“Aye—and probably for a while. He’s going tae need ye by his side.”

“There’s no way I’d leave him.” I couldn’t if I wanted to.

“Good.” A smile spreads on her face. “He’ll draw strength from having ye near.”

Halfway through the cooling tea, the caffeine adds jitters to my already trembling hands. “It probably wasn’t the best idea to drink this. I’m nervous enough as it is.”

“It’s going tae be a long day and ye’ve not slept. Ye’ll need the fuel.”

I hear the distant sound of a closing car door. I place my teacup on the edge of the cocktail table and rush to the window. “They’re here.”

I go to the door and stand in the entrance waiting for them. I want to scream in horror when Jamie and Mitch bring Sin into the flat.

He’s bloody from head to toe. His face is swollen and distorted. I almost need convincing this is my Sinclair because this person looks nothing like him.

The only positive aspect is that he seems relaxed, not at all guarded. “You gave him something?”

“Aye. Morphine.” Thank God. “Where are we going?”

“I have the bed ready for him.” I knew he was going to be a bloody pulp so I removed our new bedding and replaced it with the old.

Sin drops like a rock onto the bed. I’m not sure if it’s from exhaustion or the effects of the narcotic.

“He should sleep for several hours but you’ll need to give him more pain medicine before the other wears off.” Jamie takes a syringe from his bag and places it on the bedside table. “Give him this injection around eight so you can keep him ahead of the pain. It’s difficult to get it under control if you wait too long to dose again.”

What the hell? He’s placing too much faith in my nursing abilities. “I don’t know how to give him a shot.”

“There’s nothing to it.” He places his hand on Sin’s hip with his thumb and index finger spread into a wide V. “Hit it in the center. Pull back on the syringe. If there’s no blood, you’ll advance the plunger. Piece of cake.”

I guess it might be for someone who’s been trained to do it. “Piece of cake, my ass!”

“Do you want him to be in pain?”

He knows I don’t. “Of course not.”

“He took this beating for you, so you’ll be the one to suck it up and give him the morphine shot.” Well, that’s one way to make me feel even worse.

“No worries. She’ll do it,” Isobel tells Jamie. “I’ll help her through it.” I have a feeling this isn’t the first time Isobel has taken care of an injured member.

“It’s been a long night, ladies, so I’m going to sleep in the guest room. If anything happens, don’t hesitate to wake me.”

Sin’s filthy. I won’t let him lie in dirty, bloody clothing. “He needs to be bathed. Will you help me get him out of his clothes?”

“It’s probably easiest tae cut them off,” Isobel suggests.

“Agreed.” No way I’m attempting to launder anything on his body. I may even have a small bonfire out back.

Isobel returns with a pair of kitchen shears and holds them out for me. I start at the hem of his pant leg, working my way up. I hear her sharp intake of breath when I expose his prosthesis. “My God. His leg has been amputated.”

I stop and look at her. Her hand is over her mouth.

“You didn’t know?” I had no idea this would come as a surprise. She’s his mother. How could she not be aware of such an important thing?

“No one told me.” She walks to the bedside and strokes the top of his hair. “I had no idea anything like that had happened tae ma boy.”

“He lost it when he was shot six years ago.”

“I was told he was away having extensive physical therapy.”

“He was, but it was because he’d lost his leg.” She’s crying—something I know Sin wouldn’t want her to do. “It’s okay. He’s adjusted well. It’s not an issue the way you might imagine. He’s normal in every possible way.”

“It’s a secret they’ve kept well but he chose tae share it with you. That tells me how much he trusts ye.”

“He knows I will never betray his secret.”

I continue my work, slicing through the pants. I cover his groin with the sheet before moving on to the removal of his underwear. Once I’m finished cutting away his remaining clothing, I bathe every inch of his body.

He’s in bad shape—countless cuts, bruises, and abrasions. He grimaces when I wash his side so I suspect he has broken ribs as well. One of his shoulders is disfigured so I’m guessing it’s dislocated. “I don’t think Jamie saw this. He’s going to have to pop it back into place.”

“Should I wake him?” she asks.

“Not yet. I’ll give him the morphine at eight and we’ll wait for it to work before we inflict any more pain on him.” I’m convinced Sin would have faired far better had he been in a head-on collision.

Eight o’clock arrives and it’s time for Sin’s morphine injection. I wipe his hip with alcohol and make the V like Jamie showed me, looking at my target. The thought of driving this needle into his flesh nauseates me. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m normally not squeamish.”

“It’s the thought of sticking something intae the muscle. It’ll pass after ye do it.” She places a supportive hand on my shoulder. “When he wakes, he’ll be proud of the way ye’ve cared for him.”

I get it. This is my service to him. By doing this, I’m showing him how grateful I am for what he’s done for me. His act was one of love and so is this.

“Breck. It’s Bleu. I’m going to give you a shot of pain medicine in your hip.” I have no idea if he can hear me. I highly doubt it but it doesn’t seem right to jab hi

m without telling him what’s coming.

I pop the needle into his skin, down into his muscle, but he doesn’t flinch, still sedated from the morphine Jamie gave him earlier. Good. “Sleep well, my Breck.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

Sinclair Breckenridge

I ache from the top of my head down to the tips of my toes as I shift in the bed. I open my eyes—or eye, since it seems my left one is swollen shut—and lift my head, causing my brain to throb. I recognize it as rebound pain from the narcotic. That shit does it to me every time.

I look at my surroundings and discover I was brought home and placed in my own bed. Good. It’s the only place I want to be right now.

It’s likely late evening based on the amount of sunlight in the room. That means I’ve slept a long time but it’s not surprising. I’m sure Jamie shot me up with plenty of narcotics.

Bleu is sleeping next to me, curled into the fetal position. I can’t resist touching her so I reach out and stroke the back of my hand down her face. “I love you, Bleu MacAllister. I’ll always do what it takes to keep you safe, no matter the extreme.”

She stirs in her sleep so I stroke her face again. I’m aware of how selfish I’m being for waking her but I can’t help myself. “Bonny.”

She stretches and turns on her side to face me, eyes wide open. She reaches out to touch my face and the sensation is peculiar. It feels fat and numb, from the swelling I suppose. “Breck. You’re awake.”

“Only just now.” She scoots closer, careful to not come too near. As much as I love her touch, I don’t think I can stand it. Everything hurts. “Opeing my eyes to see you lying next to me … there isn’t a more beautiful sight to look upon when waking.” I wouldn’t mind it being this way every morning of our lives.

“You left here last night on your way to a meeting with The Fellowship council. How in the hell did it escalate to this?”

I recount the events of last night for Bleu. “So clearly, it didn’t go the way anyone expected.”

“Obviously,” she says.

“Abram is very displeased.” That’s an understatement. He’s mad as hell.