Sins of Mine - Mary E. Twomey Page 0,35
the blood in my veins.
I hold up my finger to the others, then wave them over. Obviously, when my father’s number blinks up at me from Arlanna’s phone, I can’t not answer.
Why is he calling her? Does he do this often?
Jen and Gray take the seats on either side of me, their troubled expressions mirroring my own when I tell them who is calling.
“Answer it,” Jen instructs. “I’ll be Arly.”
That’s the only nudge I need.
I swipe to accept the call, and Jen says in a chipper voice, “Hello?”
Though the call isn’t on speaker, I can hear my father’s voice just fine. My father, who hasn’t called me once after I broke out of the prison he sent me to.
“Arlanna Scarlett Valentine, I didn’t think you’d answer. You’ve been ignoring my calls.”
He’s been calling Arlanna? Why didn’t she tell me?
“What do you want?” Jen asks, trying to mimic Arlanna’s crisp tone.
“It’s more what you want that I have.”
My stomach roils at the suggestive nature of his reply.
When Jen doesn’t take the bait, Father presses on. “Your Commune of Sinners grows in popularity every day. You demand funding, and you get it from people without question. I wonder why that is.”
“Maybe they’re just as sick of you as I am. Maybe they know the thing to do with a guilty conscience is try to make the world better for those you’ve crushed.”
Father chortles, and my toes bunch in my shoes. “Maybe so. Or perhaps you’re playing with an unfair advantage. But that hardly matters, because you’re about to back down. This is how this is going to work: I’ll hold to the asylum I’ve granted you fugitives, and in exchange, you’ll back down. You’re stirring up hatred for my Sins of the Father bill, which is still in effect. I’ve no plans to change the system. I’ve freed you, but you’ll not strong-arm me into throwing out a bill I crafted. We’ll start over, adding one prisoner at a time, like we did in the beginning. I want you to go to your Commune of Sinners and stop causing problems for me with your little speeches on my front steps. Take your win and go.”
Jen snorts. “You’re delusional.”
Father’s tone remains cool. “Then I guess you’ll be short one guard until you come to see reason. Sloan will remain with me until you agree to back down.”
I close my eyes through Jen’s heartbroken gasp.
“Every day that I see your face on my television demanding the Sins of the Father bill be overthrown is a day I’ll forget to feed my new prisoner.” When Father’s threats are met with silence, I can hear his wicked grin through the phone. “Make it clear to the press that you support your king, go back to your Commune of Sinners, and I’ll send Sloan back to you in however many pieces still remain. Be my good girl.”
Rage curdles my stomach. I wonder how many times in Arlanna’s life she’s been told some variation of that load of shite. “Be a good girl” isn’t something a grown woman ever needs to hear. She is the finest woman I know, and my father is trying to back her into a cage, calling the confinement “good.”
“Send Sloan back now!” Jen rages. Her cheeks are red and her grip on the phone so tight, I’m afraid she might shatter the case.
“If you want Sloan returned, then you’ll give me what I want. And since you’ve been so belligerent, I think I’ll require something to level the playing field.”
Jen’s nose scrunches. “What are you talking about?”
The line goes quiet for a few beats. “You’ve worn my patience thin. I want a braid from your head. Not a measly few hairs. I want a fat braid to boost my magic. Give me that, and I’ll give you back your nursemaid. In fact, if I don’t have your braid in my hand in twenty-four hours, I’ll send your guard back in pieces.”
Jen’s eyes close, and she ends the call. She makes to throw the phone across the lobby, but I catch her arm before she can launch it. My arms go around her as she sobs angrily into my shoulder. Her red painted fingernails grip my skin through my shirt, probably drawing blood.
Gray is on his feet, running to the elevator and punching the button to get to Arlanna as quick as possible. Twenty-four hours isn’t that much time, so we need to make every minute count.
I cup the back of Jen’s head. “I