The Next Sin (The Sin Trilogy 2)

“I want to be there to help you.”

There’s nothing I want more. “I know. I wish you could be here too.”

“I’m going to find a way to be there with you.”

She isn’t going to let this go. “Ellison. You have a life and it’s not in Scotland. I don’t expect you to drop everything to come here.”

“Dad’s gone. You left. I’m alone.”

Damn. How do I handle this? I can’t act as though I don’t want her here. That will send up a flaming red flag. “It would be wonderful to have you with me when the babies come.”

“I’m going to be there.”

“I’m very early along. We have plenty of time to talk it over and work something out.” And figure out a way to keep her away.

* * *

My phone wakes me from my nap. It’s Debra. She doesn’t call unless she has news so I definitely want to take this call.

“What do you have for me?”

“Cameron Ewart came through for us.”

I bolt up. “Holy shit! Verbal confirmation or photograph?”

“Both.” There’s a second-long hesitation before she continues and my heart pounds out of my chest. This could be it. “Abram Breckenridge doesn’t have the scar you’re looking for.”

I’m flooded with an emotion I can’t label.

“This is good. We get to mark another suspect off the list.”

She’s right. Each suspect we eliminate brings us one step closer to finding the real killer.

“Absolutely. Let’s schedule a follow-up meeting soon.”

I end my call with Debra and note the time. Shit. It’s after three. I’ve been asleep for three hours. I sit on the edge of the couch giving myself a minute before getting up. Changing positions too quickly makes me dizzy.

I have four hours until my in-laws arrive for dinner. That means I have to get my ass into gear if I’m going to make it to the market and back in time to prepare dinner.

I do everyone at the market a favor and freshen up. Before leaving, I go to the kitchen to take inventory. I type into the grocery list app on my phone, grab my purse, and head for the front door. I open it, surprised to find three unfamiliar faces staring back at me.

“Hello, Mrs. Sinclair Breckenridge. I’m Broden. Mr. Grieve sent me.”

Oh fuck. Torrence Grieve is leader of The Order.

I unsuccessfully attempt to slam the door. The three men push their way into our flat. I back away and make an attempt to run to the bedroom. There’s a gun in the top drawer of both nightstands. His and hers.

I’m grabbed by my hair and yanked backward. One of the men roughly pushes me to the couch. The man who calls himself Broden gets in my face. “Mr. Grieve is extraordinarily upset with your husband for more than one reason.”

Sin killed Grieve’s son and led the raid that took The Order’s explosives. They’ve not yet retaliated for either. Until now.

Broden sits on my cocktail table and leans forward so we’re face to face. His breath is nasty. “You’re going to pass along a little message from us.” He takes a knife from his coat pocket and slashes my palm. “In your own blood.”

He puts his hand around mine, forming a cup. “Like this, dear. You’re going to dip your finger into the blood pooling in your hand. Using it, you’ll write the message I’m going to dictate on the wall. Are you ready?”

I nod. I have no choice but to cooperate. “Yes.”

“Good. This is what you’ll write. ‘You took something special from them and now they’re taking something special from you. Me.’ Then sign your name.”

Oh God. They’re planning to take me.

“Do it. Now!” he yells.

I dip my index finger into the blood in the palm of my hand and begin writing on the wall.

“When Sinclair married outside The Fellowship, I knew it was for love. That’s good for me. Do you know why, Mrs. Breckenridge?”

In this kind of life, it’s a general belief that love leaves you vulnerable. It’s the reason leaders tend to avoid it.

I know it’s what he’s thinking but I won’t admit it. “I don’t.”

“Love makes you weak. And desperate.”

Not true. Love makes a person stronger. “I don’t agree with that.”

“You will when I’m done with you—and your husband will as well. The things I’m going to do to you will bring him to his knees. He won’t be able to look at you without thinking of me when we’re finished.”

I can’t let them take me from the flat. If they move me to a second location, I’m as good as dead.

Sin has guns hidden all over the house. The closest is in the drawer of the end table. I have to get to it. My life, and the lives of our babies, depend on it.

I finish smearing the first half of the message on the wall before making a dash for the gun. I yank the drawer and find it empty.

“Really, Mrs. Breckenridge? Do you think we wouldn’t do a sweep of your flat and clear it of your husband’s weapons?”

I pull the drawer free and swing it around, clipping the closest man in the face. I make a dash for the front door. I open it and scream at the top of my lungs as I run out. “Fire! Fire! Fire!”

Screaming “fire” tends to gain the attention and assistance of people faster than yelling for help. But it gains no one’s attention. It’s three o’clock so everyone is still at work.

I’m shoved back into our flat and held by one of the men while Broden punches my face. I’m instantly dazed and fall backward onto the couch. “Get up and finish writing the message on the wall for your husband. Now!”

My eye socket stings and tingles. I trained in Muay enough to know the sensation is a sure sign it’s well on its way to swelling. He hit me hard. I’m guessing it’ll swell shut.

I write slowly as I consider my next move. I don’t have much of a choice now. I’m afraid and outnumbered by fists and firearms.

Reality is beginning to sink in. I’m going to be forced to go with them. And there’s nothing I can do. I’m pregnant. I can’t take the same chances I would have six weeks ago. I have to consider the safety of the babies.

“Very nice job, Mrs. Breckenridge.”

Broden takes my bloody palm and presses it to the wall before dragging it downward, leaving a large red smear in its path. I grit my teeth to fight the scream threatening to escape. It would bring them too much pleasure.

“Now you’re going to walk out that door with us and get into the car without a sound. One peep out of you and he puts a bullet in your head. Do you understand?”

I nod. “Yes.”

“I’m glad.” He reaches out and strokes the back of his fingers down my cheek. “You’re much too beautiful for that.”

I shrink away from his touch. He grabs my chin and holds my face so I’m forced to look at him. “If I want to touch you, I will do so and you won’t object. Don’t forget it.”

He leans forward and kisses my mouth hard. I press my lips together to keep his tongue out of my mouth. I’m successful but I still want to vomit.

He releases me and stares into my eyes. “There’ll be more of that later but it’s time to go now, dear.”

I’m led to a black sedan and forced into the back seat between Broden and the tall man while the short one drives. “Where are you taking me?”

“You want me to ruin the surprise by telling you?” He pats the top of my knee while laughing. “We can’t have that.”

I study the streets, trying to memorize our route but I become confused once we’re no longer within the city. I’m in a place I don’t know. The worst thing I can do at this point is panic. Yet it’s all I feel like doing.

Chapter Twenty

/> Sinclair Breckenridge

I ignored the legal matters in need of my attention so I could make Bleu’s appointment at the clinic. Being with her was worth every bit of catch-up I’ve had to deal with this evening, even if it’s causing me to run late for dinner. I’m certain my wife will forgive me. I have ways of convincing her.

I expect to find Bleu and my parents sitting around the table waiting for me but that’s not what I discover.

My father’s car is in front of my flat, exhaust billowing in the cold. That’s not right. Something is going on.

My parents step out of their car the same time as I do. “Why haven’t you gone into the house?”

“Bleu didn’t come tae the door when we rang. Maybe she had tae run back tae the market for something,” my mother says.

I don’t think she would’ve left so close to dinnertime without telling one of us. She wouldn’t have wanted my parents to arrive to an empty house.

She often listens to music while she cooks. I’m guessing that’s the case tonight. “She’s probably wearing earbuds. Did you try the door?”

“You’re out of your mind if you think I’m going into the home of a special agent and risk startling her.”

He’s right. No one should sneak in on Bleu Breckenridge unless they’re looking to get throat punched.

The door is unlocked. It shouldn’t be. Bleu knows better than that.

I’m instantly annoyed.

I enter the foyer and drop my briefcase onto the floor. I thumb through the mail lying on the table. “Bonny, you left the front door unlocked. You know you shouldn’t do that.” I look at my parents. “Damn woman thinks she’s invincible.”

Still no answer.

She left the door unlocked and can’t hear me calling out for her. That’s an unsafe mix. I’m irritated she’s been so careless. She knows we’re awaiting retaliation from The Order.

“She refuses to have guards in the house so I had the best security system known to man installed. What does she do? She forgets to turn it on when I leave.”