The Consequences of Sin Page 21

  I studied him, my heart nearly beating out of my chest. I wanted Reid more than he knew. I loved Wesley without a doubt, but it was a different kind of love compared to how I felt with Reid. Reid completed me. He made me whole. He was what I’d been missing for so long.

  “I want that. I want all of it,” I whispered.

  “Then, stay with me—here, in Dallas. I know how I treated you was wrong, and I understand if you’re angry with me because of it. I deserve nothing less, but damn it, Bree, I feel like I’ve barely scratched the surface with you. I need to know more. I want to know more. I just want you.”

  “You had every right to react the way you did, Reid. I’m not angry with you because of it. I never was. I’m just afraid that you only feel this way because everything is still so fresh in your mind. I don’t want you to be with me because of what happened. I want you to want me for me.”

  “I do! I want you. No matter what happens, I will always want you. Please, will you give me a chance to be with you?”

  I set the envelope and papers aside as I turned to Reid. I lifted my hand and cupped his cheek. “If you break my heart later, I’ll shoot you.”

  It wasn’t the most romantic thing to say, especially after his speech, but it was all I could muster up in that moment. I wanted to be with Reid. I’d known that all along, but I’d assumed that he would leave me the moment we were free. To know that he truly wanted to be with me, to give us a proper chance, was mind-blowing.

  Reid grinned. “I promise, I’ll give you no reason to shoot me.”

  He leaned forward and captured my lips with his. He deeply kissed me, showing just how much he cared for and wanted me.

  This was our beginning, our true beginning. We still had so much to learn about each other, but for the first time in my life, the world was at my fingertips. We could go anywhere, be anything—together. Fear would no longer hold me back. My past would no longer darken my future.

  Reid and I were just beginning.

  Wesley

  Wesley checked to make sure the door was locked before walking to his desk and sitting down. He always checked it twice, terrified that someone would walk in while he was logged on to the email account that connected to Bree.

  When he had returned to London, he’d stuck to the story he’d fabricated with Bree. After showing them the photographs of Oliver dead due to a single gunshot wound, they had believed his story. Bree was considered dead, and the organization had moved on to more important matters—such as deciding who would take Nico’s and Oliver’s places.

  They had chosen Wesley to lead them. It had surprised him, especially since most of the others were older and more experienced than him, but he’d accepted. How could he not? With him in control, no one would dare question whether or not he had told the truth about Oliver’s and Bree’s deaths.

  If Bree knew what kind of man he really was, she would never contact him again. He knew that. He’d always known. While she’d constantly battled with herself over the things they did, he’d never had a problem with it.

  Killing didn’t bother him. In fact, it was quite the opposite. He loved it. He relished in the thought of being the one in control. He loved playing God to the men and women who were killed by his hands or his orders.

  No, Bree would never know that side of him. She would never know how easy it had been for him to let her go and return to London. No matter how much he cared for her, this was who he was.

  She was his weakness, and she didn’t even realize it.

  He sighed as he logged into his account and clicked on the only email on the screen. It had been over a year since he last saw her, but they’d kept in contact, emailing at least once a month since then. Over time, he’d learned how to let her go, no matter how desperately he wanted her. He would always love her, that much he knew, but he no longer let his feelings for her control him. He’d pushed them away, determined to forget them.

  Wes,

  I hope you’re well. It’s hot here, hotter than I’m comfortable with. I miss London’s weather so much, but I think I’m finally getting used to Texas and its miserable heat. I suppose I should be used to it after all this time.

  How have you been? You didn’t say much in your last email. I hope everything is okay. You know how I worry about you.

  Everything is going great here. Classes are back in session, and they’re keeping Reid and me both busy. I don’t know how Reid handles working and school at once. I don’t think I could do it. He doesn’t seem to mind though.

  Do you remember me telling you about his nightmares? It seems they’ve finally lessened. He hasn’t had one in almost four months. I haven’t mentioned it to him, but I’ve kept an eye on him. It only takes getting whacked across the face once in the middle of the night for me to start paying attention. I’m glad that he’s doing better. After everything that happened, I feared that he’d never really get over things, but it seems that he has.

  I have, too. I stopped looking over my shoulder long ago. To say that is more freeing than you could possibly imagine.

  I feel…normal now. Reid once told me that he wanted to live every moment instead of just cruising through life. That’s what we are both doing now. We’re living. It’s incredible, Wes. I only wish that you were here with us. That would make it so much better.

  I love him. I can feel it in every fiber of my being. He’s told me for ages that he loves me, but I was never sure if what I felt was love or not. Now, I know it is. I just don’t know if I can say the words out loud—at least, not yet. You were the only one I ever trusted enough to say them to. I knew you’d never break me. I don’t think he will either, but I just can’t bring myself to say those words. The thought of loving him terrifies and excites me all at once. I never thought I’d find real love like this. To have it in my grasp is so surreal, much like the past year of my life.

  Look at me now—assassin turned college student. I should write a book about my life. Kidding. Don’t send an army to take me out. Ha!

  Anyway, I just thought I would check in with you. Please, be safe.

  Lots of love,

  Bree

  Wesley logged out of his email and turned off his monitor. He leaned back in his chair and stared at the wall across from him.

  Bree was happy. That was all he’d ever wanted. She’d finally moved on from the life that had terrified her, the one she hated. He was glad that he’d been able to give her that.

  He shook his head as he stood. Bree was free. He was not.

  And he had work to do.

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  Keep reading for the first chapter of Deception by K.A. Robinson!

  My feet were killing me. All I wanted to do was go home, take a shower, and crawl into bed.

  Work had been brutal tonight. I’d been working at the same diner for almost two years, but up until last week, I’d only been part-time. The day after I’d graduated from Morgantown High School, I’d switched to full-time.

  I didn’t really mind waitressing, but my body was still getting used to being on the move constantly. The diner, a small family-owned business, was always busy with the same customers. Most of them knew me by now and usually tipped well. A few college kids would come in from time to time, but they usually went to one of the more popular spots in Morgantown. I didn’t mind though because they were normally the ones who would leave crappy tips.

  I pulled into the driveway of my foster parents’ house and yawned. I hoped they were asleep. My foster dad, Rick, was an asshole to me most of the time. The only reason he kept me and the other foster kids around was because of the nice checks he would receive for taking care of us. I knew my time here would be up soon. Today was my eighteenth birthday. Hopefully, my foster dad hadn’t remembered. I didn’t feel like getting kicked out of the only place I had to go tonight.

  My foster mom, Tammy, wasn’t as bad as Rick. She could ev
en be nice at times, but her fear of Rick’s temper would keep her from defending any of the kids. Rick wasn’t physically abusive, but when his temper got the best of him, he’d go on a rampage that rivaled a three-year-old’s. Tammy had learned long ago to lock up anything breakable.

  I’d been in twelve different foster homes since I was three. Tammy and Rick’s house wasn’t the best, but it definitely wasn’t the worst. I shuddered as I thought about my last two houses. Yeah, I could deal with Rick’s asshole ways. I didn’t give a gigglefuck about Rick’s temper as long as he wouldn’t try to touch me.

  I climbed out of my piece-of-shit car and headed for the house. My car was the only thing I truly owned. I’d saved every penny I could and purchased it two months ago. I’d paid six hundred dollars for a 1989 Chevy Impala, and I definitely got what I’d paid for. The body was rusted out in several places. The right rear fender was an ugly green color while the rest of the car was a faded red. It was the ugliest Christmas-themed car I’d ever seen. Actually, it was the ugliest car I’d ever seen—period. But it would get me from point A to point B most of the time. Sadly, it wasn’t even street legal, but I didn’t have the extra cash to get everything I needed to make it so.

  Once I reached the house, I stuck my key into the lock and turned it. I frowned when the door didn’t unlock. I pulled the key out, thinking that maybe I’d shoved it in the wrong way, and I tried again. Realization hit me when the lock still didn’t turn over. Rick had changed it while I was at work.

  I sighed in defeat before knocking loudly on the door. Lights turned on in the living room, and then I heard the door unlocking.

  Rick opened the door and frowned at me. “Yes?”

  “Um…the door wouldn’t open for me,” I said.

  “Probably not since I changed the lock.”

  “Why would you do that?” I asked even though I knew the answer.

  “You’re eighteen now, Claire. You’re no longer my problem.”

  I laughed humorlessly. “Seriously? You’re kicking me out on my birthday?”

  “Yeah, I guess I am,” he said without remorse.

  “Can I at least get my clothes and stuff?”

  He shrugged. “Make it quick.”

  He moved out of the way, and I hurried past him toward the room that I shared with Shelly.

  Shelly was a foster kid, too. She’d been here when I arrived. She was only ten, but I’d found myself gravitating toward her from the beginning. We would look out for each other. I hated to think about her being here alone. I was pretty sure I was the only person in this house who cared about her.

  I passed by the boys’ bedroom on the way to my room. Besides Shelly and me, two other foster kids lived here. Kevin was thirteen, and Jerimiah was eight. I wasn’t as close to them as I was to Shelly, but I’d still miss them as well.

  I opened the door to my room and flipped on the light switch. Shelly was sound asleep in the bottom bunk. I moved quietly around the room, shoving my clothes and personal items into the suitcase I’d carried around since I was first put into foster care. It didn’t take me long to pack. I had very few clothes and even less personal items.

  My eyes misted as I picked up the only thing I had left of my mom—a locket. I opened it up to see the tiny photo of her and me. I was only a few months old in the picture. My mom had been killed in a car accident right before I turned three. Her parents were also dead, and no one knew who my father was. With no family to take me in, I had been thrown into the foster system.

  I closed my eyes and tried to remember my mother. As always, nothing came to me, except for the way she’d smelled. All I knew about her was that she’d smelled like strawberries. I closed the locket and slipped it into my jeans pocket. Once it was safely tucked away, I closed my suitcase and glanced down at Shelly. I hated to wake her up, but I couldn’t leave without saying good-bye.

  I crouched down next to her and gently poked her a few times.

  Her eyes slowly opened, and she stared up at me. “Claire? What’s wrong?” she asked as she sat up.

  “I have to leave, kiddo. My time’s up,” I said as I tried to smile at her.

  “What? Why?” she asked, panic filling her voice.

  “Rick’s giving me the boot. I gotta go.”

  “He can’t do that!” she cried angrily.

  “I’m eighteen, so technically, he can.”

  Shelly’s eyes filled with tears as she sprang off the bed and wrapped her tiny arms around me. “I’m going to miss you so much.”

  I hugged her back tightly. “I’ll miss you, too. Take care of yourself, and keep out of trouble, okay?”

  “You know I will. Will I see you again?”

  I pulled away and cupped her cheek. “I don’t know. Maybe someday.”

  She nodded as her shoulders sagged in defeat. “Please be careful.”

  “Always. I love you.”

  “Love you, too,” she whispered.

  I pushed her back into bed and tucked her in. I kissed her forehead before pulling away. I stood and grabbed my suitcase off the floor. I gave her one last smile before I opened the door and slipped silently into the hallway.

  Rick was still standing by the front door when I walked into the living room.

  “Did you get everything?” he asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “Good, because you’re not welcome back here. Got me?”

  “Yeah, I got you.” I shoved past him.

  I didn’t look back as I walked to my car. I tossed my suitcase into the backseat before climbing behind the wheel. I backed out of the driveway and headed toward the main part of town. I couldn’t stop the tears from falling as I realized just how screwed I was.

  I had fifty bucks to my name until I would get paid next week. I just hoped that I could make decent tips until then, or I’d be living on air. There was no way I’d be able to afford an apartment, even a shitty one, for at least a few months. I had no money, no friends, no credit, nothing. I was completely alone. The only thing I did have was my car.

  I gently patted the dashboard. “Looks like it’s just you and me now, ugly Christmas car.”

  I drove back to work and parked behind the building. There was no way I would park on the street. With my luck, a cop would come by and notice that every sticker on my car was expired. I didn’t need a tow bill that I couldn’t pay for. I shut off the engine and reclined the seat back until I was looking up at the roof of the car.

  At least it’s not cold out, I thought to myself as I closed my eyes.

  My entire body was rigid as I tried to control the emotions raging inside me. I tried to find the positives, but aside from the fact that I wouldn’t have to deal with Rick anymore, there were none. I attempted to shut off my mind, so I could sleep.

  I would be working the morning shift tomorrow. I needed the money too much to oversleep and miss my shift. Plus, I wouldn’t want to do that to my boss, Bob. He was a really nice guy, too nice for his own good sometimes.

  I vowed to myself that I would figure things out when I woke up the next morning. I had no other choice. I had to make a plan, or I’d never survive.

  Days had passed since Rick kicked me out of his house. I’d accomplished nothing unless I counted the tips I’d made. I had been living off of dollar cheeseburgers and washing myself in the restroom sink at work. A Laundromat was nearby, so I at least had clean clothes.

  The first day, I’d left after my shift ended. I’d waited until the diner closed and everyone was gone before driving back and parking behind the building again. I’d made sure that I was up and gone before the diner opened the next morning since I was on night shift.

  The second day had gone much the same way. Hiding at the local library all day, I’d lost myself in the pages of not one, but two books. The first one was a paranormal book about angels and demons that I’d read a million times. I would use it to escape reality. My problems would seem so small when compared to the main character’s issues. So what if I was homel
ess? At least I didn’t have to worry about stopping a hoard of demons from taking over the earth and enslaving mankind. The second book was a romance. It was about a girl my age starting fresh in college and falling in love with a man who was no good for her. I couldn’t help but feel sad as I’d read it. There was no fresh start at college and no love in my future.

  It was the third day, and I was working the morning shift again. I was taking my daily sink bath in the restroom when one of my coworkers, Junie, walked in on me naked.

  “Oh my God!” I screamed as I tried to cover myself. Apparently, I’d forgotten to lock the restroom door.

  Junie looked like she wanted to die as she quickly mumbled an apology and slammed the door shut. After I dried off with paper towels, I walked back into the main part of the diner. I headed over to the coffee pots and started making both decaf and regular, praying that Junie wouldn’t mention what had happened. Naturally, she cornered me while I was dumping coffee grinds into the filter.

  “Claire, why were you taking a bath in the restroom?” she asked.

  I glanced up to see concern in her expression. Junie was older than me, probably in her late twenties or early thirties. With light-brown hair and brown eyes, she was pretty but plain. She’d recently gone through a nasty divorce and lost a lot of weight. I knew the stress from the divorce and trying to raise her two boys on her own had been taking a toll on her. I didn’t know much about what had happened, but I was pretty sure the bastard had cheated on her.

  “I didn’t get a chance to shower at my house this morning,” I lied.

  “Cut the crap, Claire. What is going on?” she asked.

  I debating on lying again, but I couldn’t do it. Junie was always nice to me, and I couldn’t lie right to her face again.