The Sinners of Saint Amos - Logan Fox Page 0,112

every right.”

I lean back from him, my fingers sliding down my face. He cups my face with one hand, the other at his side, a half-finished cigarette dangling from his fingers. His touch causes my legs to lose their strength. I throw my arms over Gabriel’s shoulders, holding onto him to keep myself upright.

“I drank too much,” I tell him.

“I know, but this can’t wait anymore. If you don’t remember in the morning, then I’ll tell you again. I’ll keep telling you, until you find it in your heart to make sense of it.”

His words are starting to run together.

Shit! He’s about to lay some heavy fucking shit on me, but what. If. I. Don’t. Remember?

“Tell me.” I grab the front of his shirt, tugging at him. “Tell me what you did.”

Tell me about Zachary. About Reuben. Apollo.

Tell me what the fuck you did to Cass.

Tell me everything, you sick, perverted—

“Trinity. Child. Look at me.” He uses his hand to lift my head. Then he grips my chin and squeezes. The brief pressure brings me back from lolling off into a violent booze-induced daydream where he’s crucified at the stake like Jesus, and the Brotherhood are the ones piercing him with spears.

“I had an affair with your father.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Trinity

I’m on hands and knees. Technically, elbows and knees. I’d staggered out of Gabriel’s room what feels like centuries ago, despite him begging me to stay and talk. I might have told him I was too drunk, too pissed off, too over his shit to stay.

I dunno. I just hope I didn’t swear too much. Feels wrong, swearing at a priest.

That’s not important. This is important. I hold up the drive and study it with narrowed eyes. Have to give this back.

But it doesn’t fit under the door.

My plan failed because this stupid thing is too big.

I slit my eyes and concentrate on wedging the slim drive beneath the door.

“What are you doing?”

I look up and then sit back on my haunches in front of Reuben like a puppy begging for treats. How’d he know I’d be here? Coincidence…or had he been following me?

I hold up the drive. “Givin’ this back.”

Reuben watches me for a second and then reaches past me to unlock his door. Grabbing my elbow, he hauls me up and drags me inside his room. The door closes silently behind us.

I open up my hand, the drive on my palm. “Here.”

Reuben barely touches me when he picks it up, and then immediately walks away. “What, no thank you?” I call after him.

I frown and glance around his apartment as he disappears into his bedroom with the drive.

I start nosing around again, but there’s not much to see. The single drawer by the coffee station has instant coffee sachets and spoons in it. The microwave is empty. There’s a cell phone charging next to the kettle, but when I try and turn it on, it asks for a pin. I try a few random numbers before a massive hand reaches around me, removes the phone from my fingers, and then wraps over my hand.

“You’ve been drinking,” Reuben says.

“And?”

I flex my fingers inside his fist, marveling at how big it is. He could crush my hand without putting any real effort into it.

I hope he doesn’t. I like my hand.

“Why would you get drunk around him? Or have you forgotten how dangerous he is?”

I laugh and arch into Reuben. “Hold me,” I say, and then try to maneuver his other arm around my waist. But it’s too heavy and unwieldy, especially since he’s not helping.

“Tell me what happened.”

“We spoke. He left.” I hold up a finger and glance at Reuben over my shoulder. “That was you guys, right? You did something? He shot right the fuck out of there. I had more than enough time to copy everything.”

I have no idea if that’s the truth, but I’m not sure how long Reuben will let me hang around if he thinks I’m a failure. He might even send me back to Gabriel.

I flinch at the thought.

Never. I will never go back there. Never speak to him again.

He had an affair with my father.

“You’re shaking.”

“It’s cold,” I say, and try to make myself stop. Then I turn around, ending up facing him with his arm around my waist, still holding my hand. “But you can keep me warm.”

His eyes drop to my mouth, then my throat, then my breasts. Every place they pause, the skin there begins to pulse.

“You can’t be here,” he