The Sinner (The St. Clair Brothers 1)

I let out an unamused chuckle. It was highly likely Rémy called as a distraction so he wouldn’t give in to his compulsion. That didn’t upset me. I was more than willing to be his distraction if that’s what he needed. If he wanted a distraction…

“Hey,” I said. “You probably won't believe me, but not only do I have a date, but I'm bringing her back here.”

“Really? To your place?” Despite Rémy being caught in a tangled, bleak, web of darkness, a myriad of nightmares fought against invisible foes that existed only in my brother’s mind, he sounded shocked. I laughed at his incredu

lity.

“Yeah. There's a first for everything.”

“Umm, I guess so?”

I checked the time. If I didn't leave, I'd be late picking up Kylie. Shit. I didn’t know what to do. Rémy made the decision for me.

“Go on your, uh, date, Seb. I'm fine, I promise.” I hesitated, and he called me out on it. “Seriously. I’m gonna call Jankowski and see what he's up to.”

Though I was reluctant to hang up, I didn’t have a choice. We were separated by hundreds of miles, plus Rémy wanted to deal with his own issues, not to mention I promised to butt out. My hands were tied, and not in a good way. I huffed loudly to make it known I wasn’t going down easy.

“All right. But you call me if anything happens. If you even think about it. You got that?”

“Yeah, yeah. I got it. And Seb?”

“Ouais?”

My eyes stung and an invisible band cinched around my chest. To this day, Rémy doesn’t know to what lengths I would go—what lengths I had already gone—to shelter him from reality.

“I swear, I'm doing a lot better.” Rémy tried to sound confident, but I know him too well to fall for it.

How was it I had zero remorse for doing what I did back then, but when my brother attempted to be brave so I wouldn’t worry, I turned into a sloppy, emotional wreck?

“Good.” My voice cracked.

“Talk to you later,” Rémy said, effectively ending the conversation. I scrubbed a hand over the back of my neck.

“Okay. Tu me manques, mon frère.”

“Miss you, too. Au revoir.”

The call ended. I snatched my keys out of the glass dish next to the door and hurried for the elevator before I changed my mind and booked a flight to Charlotte. I clutched the steering wheel, knuckles blanched, and body tense. It took the entire fifteen-minutes to calm down from my agitated state. Normally, I’d be wound up and pissed all night. It just so happened I was highly motivated. If I didn't rein it in, Kylie would bolt the second she laid eyes on me. I didn't need the rearview mirror to know I looked half-crazed, which pretty much summarized how I felt.

Dear old dad. No longer around and still shitting all over his sons’ lives.

I stopped in front of Kylie's building, a sleek, modern skyscraper of luxury condos. Not cheap. And not the kind of place you lived if you needed a roommate. I briefly wondered what Kylie did for a living. She had to make decent cash if she could afford a place in the high-rise, even at half the rent. Maybe she came from money, not that I was about to ask. I might have the tact of a bulldog on meth, but questioning someone's financial status is pretty fucking rude, even for me. Plus, I just didn’t give enough of a shit to bother.

After sending a quick text to let Kylie know I was outside, I dropped the phone into a cup holder and cranked up the beats. The loud thumping bass provided perfect cover for so I could shout at the top of my lungs and punch the steering wheel over and over until my hands were red and swollen and my throat was raw, without anyone hearing me lose my shit.

“Fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuuck!”

I struggled to breathe, and it felt like my head was going to explode like my blender. Instead of chocolate, brains would jet out and splatter the interior of my Ford. Mid-shout, I spotted Kylie trotting down the short flight of stairs to the street. I gulped down air and willed my body to relax so she wouldn’t witness the remnants of my tantrum.

Once I got the fury strapped in, I turned down the music and hopped out, then circled the truck to open the passenger door. Damn. Her beauty breathed life into my stagnant lungs and a gentle wave of calm soothed the ends of my frazzled nerves.

“Hey,” I said as I raked my greedy eyes up and down her body. Fucking gorgeous. Neither my memories nor my fantasies did her justice.

“Hi.”

Kylie smiled and just like that, I was fucking putty in her hands. For the first time in my life, the perpetual distress I felt concerning my brother got shoved to the back burner. Pushed out of my head by the enticing sight of Kylie’s full lips, white teeth, and glittering brown eyes. The light scent of citrus tickled my nose and all of my synapses fired at once, every cell in my body ultra-aware of Kylie's presence.

I held out a hand. She raised a brow, but accepted it. The minimal physical contact of our entwined fingers, that tiny bit of skin on skin, sent a shiver down my spine. I smothered the urge to grope her ass as I helped her into the tall cab.