“Hurry along. I don’t want you to be late.” Elli shoos them away.
Heading back to the kitchen, I follow her. “If she went to get coffee, where was it?” I ask my wife.
She gives me a pointed look. “Calm down. You worry too much.”
“She’s eighteen,” I point out. About to graduate high school. I don’t trust the boys she hangs out with.
She pats my chest. “It’s fine.”
“Mornin’。”
My wife pulls away to look at our son. His eyes are barely open, he’s got red marks down the side of his face where he’s been sleeping. His hair a messy mop on top of his head and hanging in his eyes. “This is what a teenager is supposed to look like in the morning,” I point out.
Our kids couldn’t be more different in every way. People who don’t know our family think they’re twins. But what do you expect when they’re the same age?
By the time they were old enough to talk, they’d tell people they were twins. We never corrected them. They know the truth, but to them they are brother and sister. Elli is Mom and I’m Dad and anyone who can’t understand or accept that can go fuck themselves.
“Hungry?” she asks him.
“Starving,” Brexton answers through a yawn.
“Up late?” I wonder.
“Yeah, was studying for a final.” Laying his face down on the countertop, he closes his blue eyes.
I hear the front door open and close again, and seconds later my father-in-law enters the kitchen. “Good morning.” He greets everyone with a bright smile.
“Dad, what are you doing here?” Elli asks, giving him a hug.
“Thought I’d drive you to work,” he offers. “We’re still doing lunch today, right?”
Elli’s been a licensed sex therapist since the kids were five. I told her she didn’t have to work but she wanted to. She chose to have a practice outside of the house. She didn’t want patients coming in and out for sessions. I understood and supported that.
“Of course,” she answers him.
Annaleigh enters with her friend and hits her brother on the back of the head. “Wake up.”
He sits up, rubbing the spot and narrowing his eyes on hers. “Some of us actually care about our grades and study.”
She laughs him off but doesn’t argue.
“Brex, want to do some shooting after school today?” Nicholas asks him.
“Sure,” he answers with a shrug.
“What about you Anna? Want to join us?” he asks her.
“No thanks. I’ve got plans.”
“What are you doing?” I wonder.
“Study group,” she responds without even looking up from her cell while typing away. “Graduation is in three weeks. Have to prep for finals.” Her brother snorts as if he doesn’t believe her.
I have to agree with him, but my wife speaks before I can. “With whom?”
“Ryann.”
At least I can confirm that. All it’ll take is a text. I’m quite close with a few Lords that I wasn’t back when attending Barrington. That’s what happens when you have kids the same age who go to school together.
“She’s not a senior,” Brexton argues.
“She’s in advanced classes.” Annaleigh rolls her eyes at him and adds, “You should let her help you. She’d probably teach you a few things.”
His face hardens. He opens his mouth like he’s going to say something that’ll just piss her off even more but decides against it. Picking up his cell, he walks out of the kitchen.
“You didn’t eat your breakfast,” Elli calls out, but he doesn’t respond. “Anna—”
“What?” She grabs a piece of bacon from her brother’s plate. “It’s no secret he has a crush on her. I’m just trying to help him out.” The smile she gives her mother says something entirely different. “If he’s going to be a Lord, he needs to grow some balls.”
“Annaleigh!” her mother scolds her.
She ignores her mother’s tone and turns to her grandfather. “I’m free tomorrow, though. I need to practice on throwing my knives.”
Like I said. She’s my twin. I’m not sure Brexton could shoot anyone unless his life depended on it. But Annaleigh? I have no doubt she’d stab someone multiple times if you try and tell her how to drive. Then she’d hide the body while setting up a search party.
“Absolutely,” Nicholas tells her with a proud smile.
“We’re off to school.” She then turns and rushes out of the kitchen. Her friend quickly following, waving bye.
“I’ll wait for you in the car,” Nicholas tells my wife. “Easton, I’ll see you at work.” He nods and leaves us alone.
“Finally.” I reach out and pull her into me. Cupping her face, I lower my lips to hers and kiss her, needing her taste to get me through the day. I’d love to drag her downstairs and keep her tied up in our basement until tomorrow, but I know that won’t be happening.
She pulls away and opens her ice-blue eyes to look up at me. “I know what you’re doing, and I don’t have time.”
“I’ll be quick.”
She gives a rough laugh. “Yeah, right. We both know that’s a lie.” Wrapping her arms around my neck, she presses her chest into mine. “But the kids won’t be home this weekend. They’re going on their senior year camping trip. You know what that means?”
I groan. “Means I’m going to have you to myself.” The thoughts of what I’ll do to her are endless. “We’re going to spend the entire weekend down in the basement.” I will forever love my wife, but she’ll always be my little demon that loves to be used. And I will always be her devil that will give her whatever she wants.
THE END
Thank you for taking the time to read The Sinner. Did you enjoy it? See where it all began with The Ritual.
More books based in the Lords’ world.
Sabotage
The Sacrifice
Carnage
Want to know more about Tyson? Continue on to read a sneak peek of The Sacrifice （Tyson’s book）
LAIKYN
YOUR WEDDING DAY is supposed to be one of the most exciting days of your life. Just like my mother, I’m about to marry a man that I didn’t choose. That I don’t love. I actually despise him, and everything that he represents—money, greed, and power are just a few of them.
My mother hates my father, but there was nothing either one of them could do. Their fate was decided, their destiny sealed. Same as mine. Same as my children’s. And my grandchildren’s. We are bred for the sole purpose of power. Control in numbers.
Fuck that!
Women in my world—the secret society of the Lords—should not reproduce. I don’t want children. The cycle will end with me. It has to. The Lords will only find a way to use its members. They marry us off to ensure we add to their army. The next generation of Lords and Ladies will help them take over the world.
I stand in the middle of the room, overlooking the white dress in the mirrored wall, running my hand down the mulberry silk—some of the finest silk available in the world. I take in a deep breath. It cost a whopping two million. Two million dollars? For a fucking dress? My soon-to-be husband had it custom-made by a designer in France. I know this because my mother reminds me every chance she gets.