Lessons in Sin

Perry led me through the ballroom with my hand tucked inside his elbow. I felt the floor through the soles of my heels. I heard the orchestra music flowing around me. But I wasn’t really here. I was a ghost. Nothing more.

The air felt like water, bogging down my steps and drowning me in a sea of indifference.

“I want to go back to my room.” I squeezed Perry’s arm.

“Stay an hour.” He stopped and rested a knuckle beneath my chin, his expression creased with understanding. “Mom needs to see you making an effort with Tucker. Then you can leave. Okay?”

“Okay.” I felt numb.

“Here he comes. I’ll be within earshot.”

He strolled away, but I wasn’t alone. Galen’s strong presence hovered behind my elbow, my constant shadow always within arm’s reach.

Tucker sauntered right into my space, wearing a tailored black tux and his usual cocky smile.

“Jesus, Tinsley.” He prowled around me, soaking in my white lacy gown and releasing a low whistle. “You look fucking amazing.”

The dress clung to my body from chest to ankles. My mother commissioned all my fancy clothes in shades of white as if she were trying to convince the world I was innocent and pure. Perhaps trying to convince herself. As if she didn’t have photos of me getting wall-banged by my teacher.

The memory rose with a vengeance, catching me off guard. The feel of Magnus’s expert hands, the scratch of his whiskers, the dark, seductive scent of his skin—he was embedded in my senses.

My lungs burned for oxygen. I needed fresh air. My feet were already moving before I was aware.

“Where are you going?” Tucker chased after me, oblivious.

Minutes later, I stood outside on the vacant veranda, gripping the railing and burning up, despite the cool April evening.

Galen was silent behind me, but I knew he was there.

Tucker leaned a hip against the banister, staring out at the beautifully manicured lawn and twinkling lights of the mansions dotting the hillside below.

“Nevada Hildebrand was expelled.” He met my eyes.

“Big surprise.” I usually avoided all conversations about Sion Academy with him, but I couldn’t stop myself from asking, “Did she get caught with pills again?”

“No. She got caught with Father Magnus.”

A whooshing sound erupted in my ears. Bile surged to my throat, and my legs lost strength, buckling my knees. I swayed, wobbled, and Galen’s hand caught my arm, holding me upright.

“What’s wrong with you?” Tucker’s brows dipped into a V.

“I didn’t eat today.” I shrugged away from Galen’s grip, ignoring his disapproving glare. “Makes me lightheaded.”

“Let’s sit down.” Tucker motioned toward a nearby bench.

I didn’t want to sit anywhere with him, but my trembling legs took the choice away. I followed him to the seat.

“So I guess Nevada tried to fuck your old teacher.” He lowered beside me and stretched out his legs. “She gave him a little strip show and put her hands down his pants. Crazy, right? I mean, he’s a priest. That’s like so wrong on so many levels.”

A splinter wedged itself into my chest. “Sounds like a dumb rumor.”

“She sent texts about it to her friends, describing the whole thing in detail. He expelled her of course. I guess she lost her shit when she went home, tried to overdose on a bunch of opiates, and now she’s in a psychiatric hospital.”

Maybe I should’ve felt bad for her, offered up some prayers, and hoped for a quick recovery. But I didn’t. I couldn’t. I felt nothing.

Nevada was the reason my mother found out about my relationship with Magnus. She was selfish and vindictive, and karma had come for her.

Tucker droned on about his friends at school and the few short weeks he had left until graduation. My thoughts drifted to Magnus, replaying our time together in the mountains, surrounded by trees and snow in our microcosm of happiness.

I would never feel that depth of joy again, but I was so grateful for the memories. They’d carried me through four months of hell and given me escape when I needed it most.

Fingers slid over my lace-covered thigh, pulling me back to the present. Tucker rested his arm along the bench behind me as he glided his hand toward the apex of my legs.

I reached down to smack away his touch, but Galen beat me to it. With his hands fisting the lapels of Tucker’s tuxedo, he dragged Tucker off the bench and shoved him across the veranda.

“What the fuck?” Tucker threw his arms in the air. “Don’t fucking touch me!”

“You”—Galen thrust a finger at Tucker—“will not fucking touch her.”

“She’s going to be my wife. I’ll touch her if I damn well please. As a matter of fact…” Tucker stood taller. “Get out of here. There’s no reason for you to be here when I’m around. I’ll protect her.”

Galen stepped behind me, returning to his post without comment. I appreciated that. Even though I could take care of myself, it felt good to have him at my back.