Sins of Mine - Mary E. Twomey Page 0,21
in the softest lace. The matching silk pants give me a hint of sensuality without giving my body away completely. Comfort mixed with daring.
I love it.
As my hair dries, I take my time brushing out my chocolate waves. Memories of the mornings Sloan forced me to sit still while he sprayed my hair with detangler flood my brain. He tested the limits of both of our patience when he brushed out the tangles, back when I was a little girl.
I haven’t been a little girl in a long time.
I don’t remember my mum brushing my hair. I wonder if she ever did. I wonder if she wanted to, or if time with me was just a nuisance to be delegated to the staff.
I push that sadness out of my mind as quick as I can.
I am not a little girl. I’m a woman. A captain.
It’s strange to look at my reflection. There weren’t any mirrors at Prigham’s. I remember spending far too much time examining my pores in the mirror before my incarceration. Things I once thought so important now seem silly.
“Gray? Brother, you’re… What happened?” Paxton’s concern hits me like a smack to my senses.
And just like that, I’m on my feet, racing down the steps with Everly Ann at my heels. “Gray? You’re home?”
Before my foot hits the last step, a gasp flings out and stops me short.
He’s been beaten. My sweet boyfriend who doesn’t like conflict is sporting a black eye. He’s holding his weight to the right, as if his hip hurts him. There’s blood on his shoulder, soaking through the t-shirt he was wearing four days ago, when last I saw him.
Everly Ann barks, as if demanding to know who did this.
Gray gives her a short whistle, and she responds by licking his pant leg.
Those two understand each other.
“What happened to you?”
He shrugs. “I’m fine.”
I’ve just about had it with his disappearing act, on top of the evasiveness. A coldness drapes over me, frustration blooming where there should be a connection. “Why are you here?”
Paxton gapes at me. “He lives here, Arlanna.”
“Does he?” I fix Gray with an ambivalence I wish I actually felt. It would be far easier if I felt nothing for this ghost, who’s been drifting in and out without warning. “People who live here actually live here.”
Okay, not my best communication, but I’m trying not to appear flustered and unhappy with the way of things. I’ve been busting my butt since we escaped, trying to make sure everyone had everything they needed. Meanwhile, Gray’s been gone.
I hold my stature as proudly as I can. “You can sleep on the couch tonight, and I’ll help you find a tent tomorrow. I’ll gather up your spare clothes, so you have something to change into. I suppose you’ll want a shower.”
Gray turns his entire hulking body to me, his brows pushing together. “Are you mad at me?”
I scoff. “Are you serious? You take off for days at a time, not telling me or Paxton where you’re going, and you think you have a place to come home to? If you want a home, you invest in it. You invest in the people here. Wherever you’ve been spending your time…” I shake my head. “They can have you.”
Gray rears back. “What exactly do you think I’ve been doing?”
“Not a clue. Not the faintest clue, because you’ve told me bloody nothing.”
“I’ve been killing myself, trying to find a pack that might take us in! I’ve been doing all of this for you!”
“All of what? Trying to get me to be accepted by a race who doesn’t like mine? Why?”
He looks to Paxton incredulously. “Because we need a place to live!”
I gesture around us, motioning to the living room I decorated myself. “Look around you, pal. This is where we live. We don’t need the fae community to accept us, and I’ve never thought for a second that shifters were magically more enlightened. You skipped out on us while I’ve been building a place for us. You could have been helping, but you’ve been out chasing a dream that doesn’t exist.” I shake my head at him. “Go back to your people. Your fae girlfriend won’t be there to muck things up, so you’ll fit right in with them.”
Paxton holds his hands up, ever the peacekeeper. “Let’s all take this down a notch. We’re not going to get anywhere, fuming like this.”
He says “we,” but he means “me,” which is infuriating.
Paxton reaches out and holds my hand