The Sinners of Saint Amos - Logan Fox Page 0,143

don’t know where I summon the courage, but perhaps it’s because I’ve managed to convince myself that this is the lesser of two evils.

I move the belt to the side. “You can use your hand.”

Surprise or irritation flickers in Zachary’s eyes. He rips the belt out of my hand and grabs the front of my throat.

“You get the belt, or Cass gets the belt. It’s that fucking simple.”

He’s not choking me, else I’d have fought him. Maybe I can still reason with him. “What did he do to you?” I murmur, trying to keep my voice for Zachary’s ears alone. “Why do you have to hurt him?”

But this place is too small, because Cass hears me.

“What did I do?” Cass says.

Unwilling, my eyes drop to where he’s still kneeling a few feet beside me. And no matter how hard I try, I can’t look away.

It’s not just that he’s beautiful. And I mean, holy hell, he’s the kind of handsome where if you saw him in a movie or in a magazine, you’d spend a good few minutes wondering about him. What his life was like, where he lived, if he had a dog, how much he was paid and whether that was a lot of money to someone like him.

Even naked, bruised, and wearing a condescending smirk, my stomach flips over at the thought that someone as gorgeous as him is speaking to me.

Me.

Trinity Malone.

A no-fucking-body.

Somehow, I hold his gaze. Hell, I even manage to study him a little.

Countless circular scars dot what would have been perfect abs. Pale, nearly invisible scars along his ribs and thighs. More burn marks there. Most so old and faded, it’s no wonder I didn’t notice them that day in the shower when they—

“I sinned,” he says and sits back on his haunches, stretching his arms like a cat getting up from a nap.

Thankfully, he doesn’t stand, else I’d have been able to see everything. Instead, his dick is hidden in the shadows pooling his lap.

“Sinned how?” I ask.

“I touched you without your permission. More than once.” Cass’s smirk transforms into a smile that’s anything but repenting. “Apparently, I should be punished for shit like that.”

My skin suddenly feels two sizes too small. I can’t turn my head, so instead I swivel my eyes to look at Apollo. “You told them?”

He shrugs as he takes another pull on the joint. Smoke billows from his mouth, clearing to reveal a Joker-like smile. “We tell each other everything.”

“I didn’t mean—”

“Fuck it,” Zachary growls. “Offer’s just expired.”

He rips the belt out of my hand and shoulders me aside. Grabbing the back of Cass’s neck, he pushes the top half of his body onto Reuben’s lap.

I stumble back before I can catch my balance. I don’t know who would win in a fight between Cass and Zachary and I never want to find out. But there must be some unspoken agreement between them, because although Cass’s muscles go taut as if he’s resisting Zachary, he ends up right where Zachary wants him.

Which is when Reuben grabs hold of him again, holding him still.

“No, Zachary, please!” I reach for Zachary, but I’m too scared to grab him in case he does turn that belt on me.

“You had your chance,” Zachary hisses.

Cass tenses when the belt whistles through the air. The crack of it meeting his flesh is too loud. Too violent.

My heart breaks when Cass’s entire body ripples with pain. He’s gritting his teeth—spittle dotting his lips as he grunts through the blow—

Crack!

And the next.

“Zachary!”

And the next.

“Stop!” I grab Zachary’s elbow, but he shakes me off with a growl.

Crack!

“Enough!” I yell.

My brain is obviously misfiring, because then I do the most idiotic thing in the world. I slip between Zachary and Cass, turning my arms up so the belt would land on my forearms and not on my face.

Zachary freezes, arm upraised, a wild snarl on his face. “Move,” he says.

“No! That’s enough!”

When Zachary doesn’t move, when no one tries to get me out of the way, I start babbling in self-defense. “I’m the one who said he has to pay, right? Well, it’s enough. I forgive him. For everything. Okay? So…enough. It’s enough.”

Zachary slowly lowers the belt. “You don’t get to decide the sentence.”

“Of course I do.” I straighten, reluctantly dropping my arms. “I’m the one who charged him.”

“This isn’t a fucking court, girl.”

“I don’t care.”

Hooded green eyes study me for a long moment. “There’re still two lashes left.” His voice is rough, but his face is