The Sinners of Saint Amos - Logan Fox Page 0,260

that if she had listened we’d all still be broken and ruined.

There’s a crunch as Zach falls to his knees.

My gaze rips away from Trinity’s crestfallen face. I watch, comatose, as Zachary puts his hands on the snow and inches them toward the coat Trinity is trampling with her bare, blue-tinged feet.

He makes a sound that could have been a sob or a curse or anything in-between, and then drops his head, letting it hang.

“Please, Trinity. Just…let me go.”

Trinity sniffs.

My gaze climbs up her shapely legs, to the shaved V between her legs, to her little belly and plump breasts, to her bobbing throat. “No,” she whispers, voice rough and trembling. “You’re not leaving us. You’re not leaving me.”

She bends down and puts her finger under Zach’s chin, lifting his head and forcing him to look at her.

“You’re not leaving him.”

Zachary’s head sags when she takes her finger away and straightens, and then Trinity slides her hands over her stomach, cupping the tiny baby bump rounding out her pale, blood-streaked skin.

“Because if you do, you’re dead to us, Mason. Dead to Apollo. Dead to Rueben. Dead to Cass. Dead to me, and dead to your son.”

Zach slides as if he lost strength in his arms, but then he’s grabbing the coat and trying to tug it out from under Trinity’s feet without tipping her over.

“Please,” he murmurs. “Please, just put on the fucking coat. Put it on, and I’ll leave. I’ll never—”

“Feel love again.” Trinity’s voice is as cold as the air around us. A violent shiver races through her, then she kicks away Zach’s hand. “You need us,” she says. “And we need you. That’s how it’s always been. That’s how it will be, from now until the end of time.”

When we found out Trinity was pregnant, our family rejoiced. Even Zachary lit up like a house on fire. Trinity didn’t want to do a paternity test—she told us straight up the child was ours. Each of ours. Boy or girl, she would have four fathers, and even if she had Cass’s blue eyes, or Apollo’s blond hair, or my build, or Zachary’s dimple…she was ours.

But we voted. We wanted to know.

Because we were determined to each have a child with her. Yes, they’d all be ours, but that’s what we wanted.

Even Zachary.

And he has the devil’s own luck, because the firstborn son is his.

Little Malachi is this family’s first child, and Zachary is putting his life in danger because the fucking prick won’t agree to stop killing people.

Typical Mason.

Trinity shivers again, her teeth clattering. Apollo surges forward, but she sticks out a finger at him, and he stops with a grimace that looks as painful as the stab of concern that shoots through me.

Zachary sits back on his heels, his head falling back. Eyes closed, mouth a line, he looks tormented, like Satan himself is inside that twisted mind of his, handling the reins like he has so many of us.

“Okay,” Zachary bursts out. He clambers to his feet, making to grab Trinity’s shoulders. She steps back deftly, shaking her head. “Okay, you win! It’s over.” Zach rakes fingers through his hair, his eyes falling to her belly. “You win.”

“This isn’t a competition,” Trinity says.

Zach shares a quick look with Cass and Apollo. Then he cuts his eyes to me, and relief floods my body.

We’ve learned to speak volumes in utter silence, and tonight is no different.

As soon as Zachary steps forward and cups Trinity’s face in his hands, Apollo and Cass duck and drag the coat up to her shoulders. She’s still squealing with displeasure when I surge forward and scoop her off the ground, already bundling her against my chest as I make a run for the cabin.

Three sets of feet race after me. Cass sprints ahead, throwing open the cabin door and flattening himself as I shoulder past him and drop to the bare floor in front of the crackling fire.

The door closes quietly behind me. There’s the briefest scuffle of feet as if they tried to keep Zachary out, but I guess he forces his way in because the next moment he’s beside me, reaching for Trinity’s face.

I growl at him, and he stops.

I’m not looking at him—my eyes are locked on the fire. I’m willing it to blaze hotter, to warm the chilled flesh in my hands. But I can see when Zach in my peripheries as he strips off his coat and wraps it around Trinity’s legs. Two more coats appear, covering