The Sinners of Saint Amos - Logan Fox Page 0,154

don’t dare wake the Brotherhood but I need to get the fuck out of here and figure things out.

Also, I need to pee.

I carefully slide out from under Reuben’s arm and creep naked into the living area of their lair. There I find my dress and slip into it as quietly as I can. Thank God Zachary didn’t decide to cut it off me along with my underwear.

I hunt around for my shoes. One of them ended up under the couch.

Having to go to the bathroom almost becomes a non-issue when I stand and see Zachary leaning against a nearby bookshelf, watching me.

“Christ,” I whisper, putting a hand on my pounding heart. “You scared me.”

“Leaving already?” he says, and goes over to a packet of cigarettes tossed on one of the empty shelves. There’s a metallic click. A puff of smoke. He still has his back to me.

“I need the bathroom,” I tell him. Then I hesitate. “I’ll be back after.”

Tobacco ignites with a faint crackle as Zachary inhales. “What makes you think we want you coming back?”

My heart stutters. “What did you say?”

“You all had your fun.” He turns, exhaling a plume of pale smoke. “It’s time for you to fuck off.” He comes closer while I’m still trying to process his words, and grabs my chin. That touch hurts more than it should—they bruised me all over last night.

“When the first bus to Mercy leaves this morning, you’ll be on it.”

I start to shake my head. “Why—?”

Zachary shoves his body against mine, driving me back.

A pained gasp rattles out of me when I thump into the bookshelf, but my lungs seize up a second later when something cold, sharp, and all too familiar pricks the side of my jaw. “Shake your head again, and this’ll go straight through your fucking cheek,” he says.

My body goes rigid. I swallow hard, my mind reeling as I try to think of something to say.

I thought I’d seen Zachary angry before, but the rage burning in his eyes has nothing on that.

The knife slides down the front of my throat, over the front of my dress. I squeeze my eyes shut when his hand goes up under my dress.

“Look at me, Malone.”

My eyes flutter as I reluctantly force them open. The tip of the knife scrapes the inside of my thigh as he brings his hand up…and up…and up. Then it’s touching the most sensitive part of me, a breath away from slicing me apart.

In sheer panic, I glance at the curtain separating this room from the next. If I screamed, would they—?

“I know what you’re thinking,” Zachary says. “But I’m in charge, not them. If I say you leave, they’ll agree.”

My skin tries to crawl off my body as I slowly pull my gaze back to Zachary. Cold, dead eyes watch me for a second.

“Why?” I murmur, not able to stop the tears welling in my eyes. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because you and that fucking priest take us for fools,” Zachary hisses. The knife pricks my skin, but doesn’t break the surface.

It doesn’t have to—I know Zachary wouldn’t hesitate to slice into me. I can see it in his eyes.

“I don’t understand,” I say.

I saw what Zachary did last night. He has to be bisexual to some extent to have done what he did last night. So why is my father and Gabriel’s relationship such a sticking point with him?”

I search his face, trying to find meaning in his words. “You can’t blame me for what my father did. It was his choice. I had nothing to do with it.”

Zachary’s eyes narrow to slits. “Back then, maybe. But now? You expect me to believe this is all a coincidence? You arriving here just before we’re ready to strike?”

I frown hard at him. “What does that have to do with—?”

He leans into me, snarling. “I know who you are. Nothing you say is going to change my mind, little girl.”

Who I am? He’s always known—

“If you’re not on that bus when it leaves, I’ll come find you, and I’ll make you bleed.”

He smiles.

Claps a hand over my mouth.

And drags the tip of the blade down the inside of my thigh as I whimper in sudden panic.

“Only this time, I’ll use my knife.”

Chapter Forty-Seven

Trinity

I barely have enough strength in my legs to drag me up the stairs, but somehow I make it all the way to the fourth floor of Saint Amos. It’s still early—the sun hasn’t even risen yet—but already I