A Necessary Sin

  Leith rubs his chin. “Damn, Bleu.”

  “Knee and elbow strikes are permitted.” Bleu darts to Leith’s side and spins before delivering a well-placed elbow strike to his ribs, sending him to his knees. “Just so you know … he isn’t paying me to be his whore. He’s claimed me.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Bleu MacAllister

  One night together and he asks me to move in? I suppose my virginity was a bigger asset than I anticipated. Who knew it would be so easy? But I won’t mistake confidence for trust. Sinclair Breckenridge shared his secret because he would have no qualms about killing me if I even thought of talking.

  I feel bad about what I did to Leith. But in my defense, he called me a whore. He shouldn’t have done that. I’m certain it’s a mistake he won’t be making again. All ended well between us, though. He apologized, and I accepted. Water under the bridge as far as I’m concerned.

  Sin looks at me frequently during the drive to his house. Sometimes it’s my face but mostly my body. He has a hungry look in his eyes. It’s the same one I’ve seen each time my tenacious side has made an appearance. A strong woman turns him on. That means I know what we’ll be doing when we get back.

  We barely make it through the front door before he pulls me into his arms. His mouth crashes into mine and it isn’t gentle. He’s made love to the virgin and now he wants to fuck the fighter.

  I move my mouth down his neck and taste the salt. “God, you’re sweaty.”

  “I was last night as well but I don’t recall you minding.”

  He’s shirtless, his saturated with red, and he has small traces of blood still around his nose and upper lip. “And you’re bloody.”

  “So were you last night but I don’t recall me holding it against you.” He snickers.

  “That was crude … and true.”

  He urges me to the sofa, forcing me to fall on it when he pushes me backward. “Who are you and where did you come from?” He’s wearing a seductive grin so I know I’m safe. “I have a hard time believing a typical small-town girl from Tennessee would be a grand master in Muay Thai.”

  Rule number one: lies are like boomerangs. You better throw them out as hard and far as you can because they always eventually come back. “My uncle is an instructor.”

  He lowers himself to the sofa so he’s lying on top of me. His mouth immediately goes for my neck. “He taught you well. You delivered that elbow strike with extraordinary precision. I was very proud.” He’s hard. I feel it pressed against my stomach.

  “And very turned on.”

  “You can tell, aye?” He hovers above me and moves his mouth down my cheek. He puts his hand between my legs and rubs my crotch through my yoga pants.

  I want to do it again but I haven’t emotionally dealt with the actuality of what I’ve done with Sinclair. I loved every touch and sensation my body experienced last night—and then again early this morning after my nightmare.

  When I awoke to him comforting me, I’d been dreaming of that night. He held me and stroked my hair, whispering in my ear, “I have you, Bonny. You’re safe. It was just a bad dream.”

  He makes me feel feminine and desired. No other man has ever done that so I couldn’t help myself. I had to have him again, so I was the one to initiate sex. And it was magnificent.

  This is messed up. Sinclair isn’t just any petty criminal; he’s a killer. And a monster. He didn’t kill my mother but he’s the spawn of the man who did. I’m supposed to be sickened by his touch, so why am I desperate to have more of it?

  Something must be terribly wrong with me.

  We hear the sound of a shutting car door and look at one another. “Seems you have a visitor.” We rise to a sitting position as a knock sounds on the door.

  “Aye, and whoever it is decided to come at a very inconvenient time,” he groans. He goes to the window and draws the drape for a look. “This can’t be good.”

  “Who is it?”

  “My father.”

  Holy shit. I’m about to come face to face with Thane Breckenridge. “I can’t be introduced to your dad looking like this.” I won’t meet him wearing yoga pants and a ponytail. I grab my bag from the floor and run toward the stairs. “I just need ten minutes.”

  He calls out my name but I don’t acknowledge it. I’m afraid he’ll tell me I can’t meet Thane. “Okay. Make that fifteen.”

  I burst into Sin’s bedroom and look at what I have in my bag. Not much. I could put on the dress I brought for tonight. That would catch his attention but it’s not what I’m looking to do. I need Thane to look at me and see my mother. I want him to be reminded of what he did to Amanda Lawrence.

  It won’t be difficult to jog his memory. I have my mother’s … everything. Thick chestnut hair, identical shade of steel-blue eyes. I got nothing from my biological father. I’m sure everyone would comment on how similar we look if she were still living. But she isn’t. Thane made her an angel in the ground.

  I completely expect him to be confused when he looks at me and sees my mother’s face. He’ll try to work it out in his head—how a young woman can look so much like a person he killed. Even if he suspected I was her daughter, Stella Lawrence is dead according to the forged death certificate.

  The world wasn’t so technologically advanced eighteen years ago. It was pretty easy to have me declared dead on paper since Harry knew all the right people to make it happen. He took extreme measures for my protection, going as far as having a headstone placed next to my mother’s, so her killer would never return for me.

  I’m still rummaging through my bag for something to wear when Sin comes into his bedroom. “Bonny, you can’t meet my father.”

  “Why not?”

  “I told you that The Fellowship won’t approve of us being involved with one another because you aren’t one of us.”

  “Oh.” I shrug and fold the blouse I was considering and return it to my bag. “I didn’t think of that.”

  “I don’t know how long I’ll be. Perhaps you’d like to read in the study while I’m tied up. It’s well stocked.”

  “I guess I can do that.” I could, but I won’t. I’ll be formulating a plan to get to Thane. There’s no way I’m going to be in the same house as my target and miss being introduced to him.

  “Are you always so agreeable?” He embraces me and places a featherlight kiss on my temple.

  “Never. I guess you just have a way with me.” I return his embrace, my arms around his middle squeezing tightly. “I’ll be here waiting when you’re finished.”

  “We might have to take a rain check on spending the rest of the day together. It depends on what we decide to do about our problem.”

  Perfect. I know exactly how this will play out. “Do what you must.”

  I wait forty minutes and decide to put my plan into action. I place my bag on my shoulder and make my way toward Sin’s office. I knock softly, waiting for him to tell me to enter, but he doesn’t. Instead, he opens the door and stares at me. I did this knowing I was risking his wrath. Well, I think I have it. He looks furious.

  “I’m sorry to be interrupting but I can see that you’re very busy,” I whisper. “I’m gonna go. We can do this another day when you aren’t tied up with business.”

  “I don’t want you to go,” he murmurs. “I need another thirty minutes. Maybe forty-five.”

  His large frame is blocking my view of Thane but I hear him. “Sin, you didn’t tell me you had a visitor. I’d like to meet your guest, son.” His voice makes the hair stand up on the back of my neck.

  Sin says nothing and opens the door the rest of the way so I may enter. Thane rises and turns to greet me. The shocked expression he’s wearing sends chills down my spine.

  He holds out his hand and I place mine inside his. I’m touching the finger that pulled the trigger of the gun that killed my mother. This hand is one of two that held a pillow over my face until I could no longer breathe. “I’m Thane Breckenridge.”

  I see w
here Sin gets his good looks. Father and son are very similar. I didn’t realize that until now. I can imagine a younger Thane looking very much the way his son does today. For the first time ever, I can consider the reason my mother might have been having a relationship with this man. Despite the gray hair at his temples and crow’s-feet around his eyes, he’s very handsome. “It’s a pleasure, Mr. Breckenridge. I’m Bleu MacAllister.”

  “Bleu,” he whispers while studying my face. “You’re American.”

  “Yes. I’m in Edinburgh to settle my late aunt’s estate and final arrangements.” He’s blatantly staring at me. It’s unnerving. “Is something wrong, Mr. Breckenridge?”

  “You remind me of someone I once knew. The resemblance is uncanny.” Perfect. He’s seeing me just as I hoped he would.

  “You know what they say—everyone has a twin somewhere.”

  “True, but it’s more than your appearance. Your voice sounds just like hers. The accent is a dead ringer.”

  “She must have been southern.” I laugh. “I hope I’ve spurred happy memories.”

  “Aye. I loved her very much.” He could’ve said anything but that. He didn’t love my mother. If he did, he wouldn’t have killed her.

  “It’s good to know I don’t bring up bad recollections for you.” I adjust my bag on my shoulder. “My apologies, again. I didn’t mean to interrupt your meeting.” I look at Sin. “We’ll try this again at a more convenient time.”

  I’ve planted the seed in Thane’s mind. His head must be spinning about who I am and where I came from.

  “Stay, Miss MacAllister.” There’s no request in the tone of Thane’s voice. It’s a demand. “Go change into something suitable for dining out. I’m taking you to lunch. I want to get to know the young lady in my son’s life.”

  I look to Sin, as if to ask permission. He nods, not really able to go against his father’s request. “I’d like that very much.”

  I turn to leave but stop because a picture frame captures my attention. It’s the photo of me, the one he took from my apartment. It’s sitting on the corner of his desk facing his chair—staring right at him while he works. He was telling the truth.

  * * *

  I’ve finished showering and I’m applying makeup when Sin comes into the bathroom and stands behind me. I line my eyes and smudge it, not looking up. “I’m not at all pleased with you. I specifically said you couldn’t meet my father. I explained why and you ignored what I said.”

  I knew this was coming. I’ve made a huge problem for myself and now I must fix it. “I’m really sorry. I was going to quietly slip away but I was afraid you’d get angry if you found me gone without a goodbye.”

  “I need you to understand that there are boundaries you don’t cross with The Fellowship. I’m pissing all over one of the most important ones by being with you.”

  “Do you want me to leave?” I try to look pouty since it seems to have struck his soft spot when I did it before.

  “Of course not, but I need you to listen and do as I ask.”

  “You should know now I’m not very good at that.”

  “Then become good at it.”

  “I can do that for you.” I turn and wrap my arms around his shoulders. I kiss him hard so he’ll forget our quarrel.

  He nips my bottom lip and pulls back just enough to look at my face. “I think I’ve figured out what you are.”

  I watch his eyes for any sign of my cover being blown. “And what have you decided?”

  He’s grinning so I relax. “A sorceress. You must be because you’ve enchanted my father.”

  I couldn’t ask for better news. “How did I manage that? You were there and heard our conversation. I said nothing of consequence.”

  “Despite what you said, or didn’t say, he’s quite taken with you—as am I.” He laughs. “If he wasn’t waiting for us, I’d take you back to bed right now.” He smiles before placing a kiss on the top of my head. “But he is.”

  I lift a brow, giving him a seductive look. “He won’t be later.”

  “I’ll remember that when we get home.”

  * * *

  “I’m in the mood for a romantic tale. Tell me more about your American.” My elbow is propped on top of the table. My chin is resting on my palm and I attempt to appear dreamy-eyed.

  He’s grinning, as though his head is filled with fond memories. “Oh … it was many years ago.”

  I’m not letting it go that easily. I want to hear what he has to say about my mother. “Let me guess. Your American girl came to Edinburgh as a tourist and you had a whirlwind romance before she returned home.”

  “No, it was nothing like that.” He shakes his head. “I met her in the US while I was on business.”

  “Was your first meeting a romantic one?”

  “It was anything but. She was my blackjack dealer. The pretty lass took me for twenty thousand dollars during a span of thirty minutes.”

  That can’t be the reason he killed her. If so, she wouldn’t have been having him over at our apartment on her nights off. “Wow, I bet that stung.”

  “It was the opposite. She mesmerized me. No other dealer had ever been capable of taking that amount of money from me. I wanted her to come to work for me.”

  “But she didn’t?”

  “No. She had a daughter she didn’t want to uproot. A beautiful little girl named Stella.” Until the day you yanked me from beneath my bed and pressed a pillow into my face.

  “Where do they live? I should look her up when I get home.”

  “I wish you could. Amanda and her daughter were murdered eighteen years ago. It’s still an unsolved case.”

  I gasp in horror. “That’s terrible.”

  I hope Thane loses sleep tonight remembering my mother. I curse him to go mad working out how I can look so much like his lost love. And just when he thinks he has it all sorted, I’ll be there holding the barrel of my gun to his temple. He’s going to die the same way my mother did. It’s only fitting.

  Chapter Twelve

  Sinclair Breckenridge

  Dad drops us at home after lunch and I feel I owe Bleu an explanation for my father’s bizarre behavior—except I don’t have one. I only know he’s completely taken with her. And this is good. It means he isn’t concentrating on her being an outsider, which triggers a thought in my mind. Dad was having an affair with a woman not within the circle of The Fellowship. Did the brothers know or did he keep it secret as I’m doing now?

  “I feel like I should apologize for the way my father conducted himself today. I’m not sure why he felt compelled to continually talk of his lover and her daughter. I’m sorry if it made you ill-at-ease.”

  “I probably encouraged him with my questions. I shouldn’t have pried, but I truly had no idea there was such a tragedy behind his love affair.”

  I remember how Dad would be in a pleasant mood when he came back from his trips to the US. I always assumed it was because business had gone well. Now that I know about this woman he loved, I’m guessing she was the reason. “I remember him grieving for her, the American.”

  “How so?”

  “He returned from one of his trips and went MIA for days. No one knew where he was—not even Abram. I remember the brothers going crazy. They thought an opposing adversary got to him so he was assumed dead. There was lots of talk but I didn’t know what to believe. I’ve never been so scared in all my life.”

  “Where did he go?”

  “I never knew. But he was different when he came back. His drive was gone.”

  “How old were you when that happened?”

  “Nine? Maybe ten?”

  Thane was a married man when he was seeing my mom. I don’t like the thought but I have to wonder if she knew he had a wife and children. “You don’t seem upset for your mother.”

  “They’ve never cared for each other. She wouldn’t be hurt by his relationship with another woman so why should I be?”

  “I guess I thought maybe deep dow
n, she loved him. Women can be that way.”

  She’s never met Isobel Breckenridge. “Not my mother. Loving my father would require emotion I don’t think she possesses.”

  “Those are strong words to say about one’s parent.”

  My mother can be very harsh. It was difficult growing up with her as a mum. “She’s indifferent to all of us—Dad, me, my brother, Mitch. The only person she ever cared for was my sister, Cara.”

  “You haven’t mentioned a sister.”

  “She’s gone.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.”

  I still nearly become sick every time I think of what happened to my baby sister. “She was five years old when someone came into her room and smothered her. To this day, we don’t know who.” They used her favorite stuffed animal, a leopard-print cat, a gift for her birthday. She loved that thing so much.

  Bleu suddenly becomes pale and fidgety. She seems heavily affected by hearing of Cara’s death. “Is child killing a common practice in your world?”

  I can’t believe she would even think that. “Never! No one in The Fellowship condones the killing of a child. We aren’t monsters, Bonny. None of us would harm a child. There’s no place for that in my brotherhood.”

  “What does The Fellowship value most? Do they hold anything dear?” I don’t care for her tone. It implies she believes we have no feelings or emotions.

  “Nothing means more to us than family and loyalty. We have codes concerning both that we don’t break.” Some believe our devotion is misguided because of the things we do and find acceptable, but I don’t question the trust I have in my brotherhood.

  “What would you do if you found out a comrade had harmed a child?”

  “I’d kill him.” No second thoughts.

  “You’d do that even if it was someone you loved dearly?”

  She has misjudged me. “We should become clear about one thing. I love no one dearly. But back to your question … I wouldn’t hesitate if the circumstances warranted. It’s my place to carry out swift justice.”