The Affair (The Evolution of Sin 1)

He shook his head but didn’t look at me. A muscle in his jaw spasmed and I watched his fists clench and unclench as he fought to remain calm. For some reason, the sight of him made me want to weep.

“Do it now, Candace,” he ordered before turning around and striding over to the conversation with the police.

Candy turned to me, her angry eyes dulling with empathy as she took in the miserable sight of me. With a gusty sigh, she placed an arm around my shoulders. “Come on, Elle. Let’s go back.”

We were silent in the cab but she held my hand the entire time. I didn’t cry but my body was weak with the effort to hold in the tears and my left foot throbbed brutally from a deep slice on my instep. The stupid incident coupled with Sinclair’s continued hot and cold attitude, the fact that I was leaving tomorrow and he would go back to his darling girlfriend, sent the careful walls compartmentalizing my live crumbling down.

When we reached Sinclair’s suite, I hesitated in the doorway. He had ordered Candy to take me home and my heart throbbed as his words echoed in my head.

“Come on, I’ll make you some tea while you take a shower, okay?” Candy placed a hand on my back and I winced when she pressed into tender skin from where I had fallen backwards on the stairs.

My head and heart pulsed in painful tandem and I was grateful to her for leaving me to my own chaotic thoughts.

“You don’t have to stay,” I still offered.

She looked at me like a Head Mistress, her expression deeply at odds with the tight blue dress I had encouraged her to wear. “Don’t be selfish. I want to be here with you.”

I ducked my head and nodded, warmed and shamed by her gesture. I quickly made my way to the bathroom and shucked my clothes, waiting until the temperature was close to scalding before stepping into the spray. I let the water pound the thoughts out of my head and pressed my cheek to the tiles as sobs finally wracked my aching frame.

I didn’t know where Sinclair was or why he hadn’t taken me back to the resort. He could have been angry with me for disappearing alone, and I wouldn’t have blamed him, it was incredibly stupid of me. It was our last night together and I had ruined it.

Otherwise, my encounter with the drunken horn dog at the club didn’t disturb me as much at it might have. I was used to men taking what they wanted and their aggression didn’t surprise me anymore. Which was why, I think, I was so deeply enthralled with Sinclair. He was such a contradiction to the little I knew about men. He struggled to do the right thing, to remain in control and logical despite the desires that burned brightly within him. He was a deeply passionate man beneath the calm resolve and I admired him for it even though I was the one to take that calm from him. The pain increased in my chest when I thought about what I was doing to the woman who loved him back home and to the man Sinclair struggled so hard to be – a good man with morals.

Self-loathing bloomed in my chest until I almost couldn’t breath. Everything awful that I had done in my short life welled up from my memory banks and flooded me. It is a strange and bone numbing feeling to realize that you are the villain of your own life story.

Later, after I had finally expelled all my tears and the water had beaten my body and psyche free of all hurt, I lay in the king sized bed with Candy sound asleep beside me. She had insisted on staying until Sinclair came home but he had been gone for over two hours now. I turned my head to look at the glowing face of the alarm clock: 2:43am. I sighed, bone tired but unable to sleep.

I bolted upright when the door to the suite opened and closed a few minutes later. The sound of male conversation wafted in through the open door and I strained to make out what they were saying.

Candy stirred beside me and I quickly turned on my side, my heart galloping as I feigned sleep. I felt her sit up and the gentle scratch of her gaze on my face before she slipped out of bed to join the commotion in the living room. As soon as she had gently closed the door behind her, I was up and at the door, cracking it open noiselessly for better audio.

“It was fucking stupid, Sin,” Cage was saying as he took a seat on the couch.

“And you know when Cage says something is stupid it’s really idiotic,” Candy added drily as she curled up sleepily on the couch.

“It was fucking necessary,” Sinclair snapped as he poured himself a snifter of brandy from the bar. “You know the police wouldn’t have done anything.”

Cage shrugged as he snagged the drink from Sinclair, who promptly poured himself another, but his voice was tight when he said, “You didn’t need to beat the guy to a bloody pulp.”

“And you didn’t need to help.”

I covered my mouth to muffle my gasp.

Sinclair poured more brandy into his now empty glass and prepared another one for Candy before he went to sit beside her. She waved her hand at the glass, dismissing it as she uncurled from her position.

“This is a talk between men, I think.” She placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed tightly. “Not a long one I hope, it’s late and that girl in there needs you.”

She smiled with her mouth closed tightly over her teeth as she moved towards the door. Her hand was on the handle, gently swinging it closed behind her, when she muttered, “And don’t underestimate how much you need her too.”

Sinclair’s back was to me as he stared after her and I had the pleasure of watching him peel off his blood soaked shirt and throw it onto a nearby chair, every movement jerky with anger. I had never seen him so thrown off and despite myself attraction sizzled over my skin as his naked back came into sight.

After a few moments of silence, Cage leaned back against the cushions, his leather pants creaking, and slanted his friend a look. “We have a problem here.”

I watched Sinclair’s jaw work as he chewed his thoughts over. Finally, he tipped his glass back and drained the scorching liquor. He placed it on the table and braced his hands on his thighs.

“I know.”

“What are you going to do about it?”