Convict (Sin City Salvation 2)

I didn’t want it to be true.

The things I’d read about Huck William Fallon did not fit the idealism of him in my own mind. He couldn’t be the embodiment of all my worst fears. He couldn’t be like the men I hated so much.

The door to the confessional booth swung open, and I heard the soft click as it shut. My attention remained on the floor beneath me as the soft footfalls headed in my direction.

He sat down next to me, and neither of us spoke for a while. I didn’t know where to begin, and maybe he didn’t either. I’d never particularly cared for Lucian. When he forced his way into our lives and blackmailed my sister, he swiftly became enemy number one. I was certain she’d probably kill him by the time their contract had ended, but instead, she fell in love.

Now I knew enough about him that I could respect him. But I would always be wary, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Because in our world, fairy tales didn’t really exist.

“Ace is going out of his mind looking for you.” Lucian’s deep timbre reverberated off the walls around us.

My head dipped further, and my fingers gripped the edge of the pew. “Is it true? Did he murder that girl?”

Lucian sighed, and I held my breath, waiting for a response. Ace was his closest confidant. Knowing Lucian, he would probably take the high road and tell me I needed to ask him about it myself. It was what I expected. But I guess I didn’t know as much as I thought about this man after all.

“He has a complicated past,” Lucian murmured.

“Don’t we all?” My heels drummed against the tiled floor, a nervous habit.

“Not like this.”

The weight of Lucian’s statement held so much anguish, I couldn’t help but look at him. The pain was etched so deeply into his features, it looked as though he was recalling pieces of his own past.

“Tell me,” I pleaded.

Lucian turned to me, pinching his brows together. “How do I know you won’t use it against him?”

My eyes narrowed as the accusation even though I probably deserved it. “Have I ever?”

“Not Ace,” he conceded. “But everyone else—”

“I wouldn’t do that to him.” My words came out sharper than I intended. I didn’t care if people called me a con, a liar, and a trickster. But even I had my hard limits, and Ace was one of them.

Satisfied with my response, Lucian leaned back against the pew and closed his eyes as he folded his hands together. “He’ll never tell you himself. As long as I’ve known him, even I’ve only managed to get bits and pieces over the years. The rest came from his files.”

“What files?” I asked.

“I don’t typically make it my business to tell anyone what isn’t my story to tell since I’m legally bound to confidentiality. However, in this case, I’m also morally bound to do what I believe is right. Gypsy feels that you are safest with him, and I’m inclined to agree. But I understand with your background, you would need answers to these questions.”

“Please don’t talk about me like you know me.” I glowered. “Or anything about my life.”

Lucian shrugged unapologetically. He was married to my sister, and though I was certain she’d probably given him intimate details of our childhood, I didn’t intend to discuss it with him.

“You can’t hide what happened to you forever,” he noted. “It’s only fair that if I tell you about Ace, you show him the same courtesy. Take it from a man who learned the hard way, there is nothing to be gained by hiding our demons.”

A ball of tension bobbed in my throat. I had no intentions of opening up to Ace or anyone else, but Lucian didn’t need to know that.

He stood and walked to the row of candles, his back turned to me as he observed the burning flames. “Huck was the child of a couple who belonged to a radical sect of the Baptist church,” he began. “Most people refer to them as a cult, and I’d have to agree that’s more accurate. His father was a preacher, and his mother was… by all accounts… a mentally unstable woman who believed she could abolish evil through sexual rituals. It was during one of these rituals, with a man who wasn’t her husband, that Huck came to be conceived.”

“Wow,” I murmured. “That’s awful.”

“His mother died from complications during childbirth, but Huck survived. As you can probably imagine, his non-biological father Ed wasn’t at all pleased by this development.”

Acid heaved up my throat, threatening to spill out as bitterness coated my tongue. “Did he blame Huck?”

Lucian glanced at me, considering his words carefully before he answered. “He did more than blame him. He beat him, burned him, and mutilated him. All under the guise that Huck was evil, and it was the only way to cure him. His body is a testament to the abuse he suffered in his childhood. But it’s the scars in his mind that damaged him the most. When he was eight years old, Ed sewed his mouth shut and told him he was never allowed to speak again. And for seventeen years, he didn’t.”