The Sinners of Saint Amos - Logan Fox Page 0,174

been at Saint Amos.

All I need to know is which parish keeps her records.

I hop around the Internet, finding bits of information to add to my search.

Someone shoves a cup of coffee my way. I drink it down without tasting it, but fully appreciating the jolt of caffeine. A plate of food arrives, and it smells damn tempting, but I’m already down the rabbit hole so it grows cold beside me.

The light changes. Hues shift. Streetlights come on. The temperature drops.

And then I have it.

An address.

I look up. Cass and Rube are staring at me. “Well?” Cass says. “Tell us.”

“It’s not much.” I grab a fry off my plate, swallow it down despite how cold it is. “But it’s a start.”

Chapter Eleven

Zach

I’m driving down the I-44—going too fast and giving way too few fucks. The joint I’m smoking helps. The bottle of whiskey in the glove compartment I sip at every now then, that helps most of all.

I never thought it would be this hard walking away from them. Or, in my case, driving away. Never thought I’d feel compelled to go back to them. To her.

But I am. And it is.

I hit the joint again. Tasteless. But I guess that happens if you keep smoking the same shit over and over.

No it doesn’t.

I could have stopped Gabriel. If I didn’t want to get my hands dirty, I could have called my brothers, warned them. They could have stopped him.

But I didn’t.

They said they’ll never forgive me for that.

Fuck—I’ll never forgive myself for that.

A part of me was grateful he was leaving. And that part of me managed to take control long enough to sit back and let him walk away. But the rest of me? Numb, because it felt like I was losing something more important than my charred and blackened soul.

“That’s because I am more important.”

I glance in the rear-view mirror. A jolt goes through me when I see Trinity sitting in the back seat.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” I peer at her over my shoulder.

She’s wearing the same lacy white thing she did when we took her virginity. Except now it’s freshly laundered and her curls bounce around her shoulders like she’s just come out of the salon.

And her lips are red.

Like the Whore of Babylon.

“You should watch the road,” she says, an easy smile tugging at those cherry-red lips.

I smile back, glance at the road.

And almost lose control of the car as I swerve out for a truck. It blares its horn at me, the near miss rocking my now stationery rental like Trin and me are fucking in the back seat.

I turn around. She’s not there anymore.

When I straighten and look ahead, she’s standing by the hood of the car with her back to me. A gust of wind toys with her curls as she looks over her shoulder and beckons me with a crook of her finger.

I fumble for the car door, my composure shattered by the fact that I almost died. That I almost got Trinity killed.

Impossible. She’s with Gabriel.

But that doesn’t change the fact that when I walk up to her, when I grab her arm, when I turn her to face me, she’s as real as I am.

I press her against my body, testing the theory. But there’s no mistaking the way her hips press into the tops of my thighs. Her breasts into my ribs. And she makes a sound, a protest to my manhandling, as if I’m hurting her.

So delicate, like a dandelion. One breath and she’ll scatter.

But I won’t let her. Not again. The parts of my brain that held me frozen on Saint Amos’s front steps aren’t here right now. Maybe they clocked out after the deed, I don’t know.

I grab the back of her neck and I kiss her right then and there on the side of the road.

Hard.

Relentless.

Forgetting how easy it was to break her. How much I enjoyed it.

“Here?” she murmurs against my mouth. “Right here?”

I don’t know what she’s talking about until she pulls back and climbs onto the hood. Spreads her legs.

Black underwear, which is wrong, because that’s not what she was wearing. But maybe she changed, right? Girls like her don’t go around commando.

My dick’s out a second later. Too eager, but I can’t help myself. I have to be inside her again. Feel her suffocating me. Milking me.

I thrust into her pussy with enough force to make her cry out.

Her fingers bite into my shoulders. “Harder,” she says.

Her