All We Are (8th Sin Book 2) Read online

  “Cooking is one of those things you either know or you don’t.”

  “You don’t think it has to do with learning a skill?”

  He shakes his head. “Some things can’t be taught. I need a knife. I hope you have onions and tomatoes or we are going to have to run to the store.”

  I sift through the refrigerator. “Sophie is vegan, that’s mostly all we have in this house. The only meat she eats…” I stop the sentence before I go there.

  “Is what?” he is smirking. I hand over the tomato and organic onion.

  “I was going to say man meat. And then I thought against it.”

  He starts laughing at me. Which makes me feel just ridiculous. It’s a good look on him—laughter.

  “Funny shit.” He starts chopping away at the onion really impressing me with his knife skills.

  “Is there anything you can’t do?” I raise an eyebrow.

  “I’ve been told a few things.”

  I hand over a small glass bowl for the onions. “Like what? I can’t imagine there being anything.”

  “Making anyone happy. Being a good boyfriend. Son.” He continues. “Not give a girl an orgasm.”

  I nearly choke at the last part. “Oh, you’re too much. Don’t let all women fool you. It doesn’t always happen.”

  “It happened the other night.” He picks up the tomato squeezing it. “And might I add I could have got the job done with just my hand. That’s how much you were into me.”

  I laugh, snorting. And when he looks at me with a look of amusement, I cover my mouth in horror. “Who says these things? Where is your humility?”

  “I say these things. I say what I want to say when I feel something.” He slowly slices into the tomatoes and looks back up at me. “Things like I still can’t get the thought of being inside of you out of my head. And I think that is just fucking weird.”

  I force myself to blink, my heart fluttering in my chest. “God.” I gush.

  “No, it’s Nash.” He smirks, going back to the chopping.

  “Why do you think that is weird? And why does that sadly have me thrilled?” Shit.

  “Because I am not the kind of guy that enjoys anyone I sleep with for more than in that moment.”

  Who’d have thought the girl he saved could be the one to make him feel that way?

  He turns on the stove and starts on the hamburger. I watch his arms move as he works on the food.

  He has a nice ass. I don’t know what part to enjoy more the front of him or the back of him.

  I take a seat at the bar. “Did you ever think you would see me again?”

  He doesn’t turn around. “I’ve seen you my whole life.”

  “What…what are you saying?”

  “I’ve bounced around this town my entire life. But there was one person who kept bringing us back together.” He turns down the burner and turns around. “Lee.”

  I raise an eyebrow, not understanding. “He was a big part of my family and always looking out for me. And when I was around him he never stopped talking about you or showing me pictures. He was proud of you and he didn’t even know much about you.”

  This is all news to me. “You said pictures. What kind of pictures?”

  “School pictures. Family pictures. He got them every few months.”

  This surprises me. “My parents never told me that.” I was under the impression that Lee was cut out of my life soon after my mother died.

  Nash shakes his head because he has nothing to offer to help with this.

  I set the table and we share a nice dinner together in the comfort of my apartment. It’s nice talking about nothing with someone. It’s nice feeling normal.

  He’s a good cook and terribly honest about everything he says and feels. He’s a lot deeper than I ever imagined him to be. And the more I learn about Nash the more I enjoy being around him.

  I find myself not wanting the night to be over.

  Thirty Three

  I can smell breakfast as soon as I walk through the door of my parent’s house.

  They’re all at the table, even my brother.

  “Well hello stranger,” he says around a mouthful of toast.

  I sit my purse down on the counter and fix a plate of French toast and bacon. And I take the seat next to him.

  My father looks up from his paper. “How’s the job going?”

  I look away for a second. “I got a new one.”

  “What do you mean you got a new one? Where?”

  “Things weren’t working out at Jackson’s office anymore. It was best if I left.” I pick up a fork and poke at my French toast. I know where this is headed.

  The reason I hate coming back.

  “You mean you and him broke up and you don’t feel comfortable working for him is what you mean,” he tells me. “God damnit, Savy. You didn’t even tell us you left this place.”

  “I’m not twelve. I can function in the world without your help.”

  He drops his paper. “Then what’s the hold up in telling us where you’re working?”

  I concentrate on the syrup because I know what he is about to say next. “I’m working at a bar. I am a shot girl, I hand out shots to customers. And it actually pays very well.”

  We all jump when he slams his hand down on the table.

  My brother interrupts. “Those places have bouncers, security there is tighter than the Whitehouse.” He offers me a smile.

  “I want you back in school.” He stands up like it’s the way of the world and I will just agree to whatever he is demanding.

  I sit my fork down. “Maybe I shouldn’t have come.”

  My mom grabs my arm. “Arnie, you can’t treat her like this every time you don’t like her choices. Can we sit down and have a conversation?”

  He doesn’t give her even a second thought, he is gone, he’s the most stubborn man I have ever known.

  “He’ll come around,” she assures me. “So tell me what have you been up to besides work?”

  I’ve been up to a lot. I look at both of them, unsure if they are willing to hear what I have to say. They are living in this world where none of the stuff from the past ever happened.

  But it did. And I am slowly remembering every piece of it.

  “There’s something I need to ask you.” I tell her.

  My brother stops eating, he’s just as interested as she is now. They both are staring at me waiting.

  “Did you guys keep contact with my mother’s family all my life?” Maybe up until the accident, I am not sure.

  But when her eyes falter and she looks away from me, I know something is wrong.

  “Were you letting Lee know how I was and sharing my life with him?” It made sense that they would I was a part of their lives for a couple of years.

  As Lee got older he got sick and clearly wasn’t in his right mind, but one thing rang true—he still recognized me. I reminded him of his daughter, my mother.

  My brother starts clearing plates.

  “You’re father wanted to cut them off completely. But that man…there was just this emptiness in him and I couldn’t bare to raise his granddaughter and never allow him to have a glimpse into your life. He loved you.”

  “Did Dad know you were doing this?” She looks down ashamed.

  “He wasn’t happy when he found out. And you know you’re father, he wants things his way. And it would have ended on his terms if it weren’t for the accident. When you woke up and didn’t remember much of anything that had to do with your past we chose to forget any of it ever happened.”

  I’m sure that devastated Lee.

  “I need to use the bathroom,” I say, excusing myself before I say something I regret.

  I go down the hall. And the door to my dad’s office is open, but he isn’t in there. Curiosity gets the best of me and I am standing in the middle of his office.

  Any other time looking at his office wouldn’t make any difference to me. But today, things make more sense.

&nb
sp; I walk over to the portrait on the wall. It’s an old picture of me when I was about five. He’s never taken it down.

  I tug the bottom of it and just like I expected it comes away from the wall hiding something I never expected to see, but in the back of my mind I feel like I have always known it was here.

  It’s a safe. I spin it around, remembering the numbers I found in that box. It’s not coincidence. It’s the date that she died—my mother.

  I pull out the sweater, wrapped in plastic. It’s preserved perfectly.

  I shut the office door and lock it.

  I pull the sweater out of the plastic. It’s torn, and there’s blood on it. That’s not the only thing in the plastic. A man’s shirt, and it too has blood on it.

  My stomach hurts. I drop both of them down on the ground and force myself to look in the safe.

  I cover my mouth and cry when I see the deed to Lee’s business nestled in the bottom of the safe. My father took everything from this man.

  My father is not the person I thought he was.

  I fold up the bloody shirts and carefully put them back just the way I found them. They are hidden for a reason.

  The thought that my own father was the one responsible for my mother’s death doesn’t sit well with me.

  He’s an evil man, with a heart full of hate to have ever done what he has done. Not only to me but my mother and grandfather.

  I come back into the kitchen. Nothing looks the same anymore. It’s like I am seeing everything in a new light.

  She’s at the sink washing the dishes.

  “What happened to my mother?”

  She looks at me, searching my eyes for any clue of what I am talking about. “I’m not really sure about that. They found her at the lake.”

  She’s not lying. And this makes me feel even worse.

  “What could have happened to make someone want to hurt her?”

  “There are only a few people in this world who know what happened. I am not one of them, sweetheart.” She squeezes my arm and I kiss her on the cheek.

  “I’m going to go.”

  I can’t stay here another minute knowing what I know. Knowing that my mother has lived in denial for decades. That she would tolerate someone so awful because of whatever reason. It goes against everything I ever thought she was.

  All we are is a bunch of fools, a bunch of people willing to shove it all under the rug.

  All we are, is one big lie.

  And I don’t want any part of this lie anymore.

  Thirty Four

  It’s not shocking that I have slept like shit since discovering my dad’s little secret hidden in his safe.

  Or that I have taken three days to read every journal entry that my mother made from front to back.

  “She wasn’t in love with my father,” I tell Nash. “She was the furthest thing from love at the end.”

  He’s at the bar waiting for me to get off work. Ever since the guy in the parking lot, he refuses to let me go home alone. I don’t mind because I enjoy seeing him.

  And I think I might be growing on him as well.

  “You figured that out from reading a couple diaries?” He lifts his beer and takes a swig. He’s been nursing the same one since he got here.

  “Yeah. She wrote it down. They were two different people and she felt he didn’t understand her. She was in love with your father.” This was one part of my reading that I enjoyed diving into.

  The way she talked about Nash’s father was the exact way I imagined falling in love felt.

  She described love like the rain—sometimes it sucked and ruined everything. But in the end it was there for a purpose.

  I want a love like that.

  Nash watches me wipe down the table, lifting his beer out of the way. “He’s never loved anyone like he loved her. He still loves her.”

  I think it makes Nash feel good to know that another person sees what he does about his father. That he isn’t the one responsible for what happened to her.

  If I could just get the words out about what I know, I am pretty sure I can put him and his father at ease.

  But sadly I don’t know the first thing about admittance when it comes to something like this.

  “Are you hungry?”

  I nod. “I could use a good meal.” I admit.

  “We can go get a pizza downtown when you’re off.”

  I study him. Letting out a sigh. “What makes you stick around here?”

  “You.” He isn’t shy with his answers. I ask and he gives. It’s a really easy arrangement between two human beings. He isn’t complication, or worrying. He’s just this really sincere person that for some reason wants to protect me.

  “When we first ran into each other you hated me,” I tell him.

  “I hate nothing. And I never hated you, I just know a liar when I see one.” We lock eyes and I stare him down for calling me that god awful word again. “And no I don’t think you are a liar anymore.”

  “Good.” I rake a hand through my hair. “I am going to get my stuff out of my locker and I will be right back.” I touch his arm in passing and hurry down the hallway to the locker room.

  ***

  I’ve always imagined having a date downtown by the water and here I am with Nash of all people.

  “So what’s the deal with you and Luckman?” He folds his pizza in half like they do on the cooking shows I watch sometimes and looks at me waiting for an answer.

  I shake my shoulders. “Honestly, I thought I had feelings for him.” I wipe my mouth with a napkin. “Feelings I didn’t want to admit. And then like life, he showed who he really was and now it’s over.”

  He takes a bite, chews for a couple of seconds and then responds. “Why didn’t you want to admit your feelings?”

  “Fear. What else would it be?”

  “I guess you’re right.”

  “What about you? Why aren’t you involved with anyone?”

  He shrugs. “It’s not fear. It’s more like I haven’t found someone I could see growing old with and being able to stand to be around the rest of my life.”

  I laugh. That is an absurd answer if I ever heard one. “Is it only sex with you?”

  “That was the first time I had sex in a year.”

  I laugh again but this time because I can’t believe the absurdity in the answer he has just gave me. “What?”

  “Yeah. It’s been a year.”

  “When’s the last time you were in a serious relationship?”

  He drops his crust on his plate. “I’ve never been in a serious relationship. I’ve been either fucking someone or fighting with them that’s about it. Sometimes the fighting happens after I fuck them. And sometimes it happens before and then we fuck after.”

  This makes me feel all warm and dirty on the inside. I shake my head. “This is really refreshing to hear.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “I have relationship issues. And hearing yours makes me feel a lot less…

  “Slutty?” He smirks, standing up.

  He takes our plates to the trash and looks back at me. “Want to walk?”

  “Sure.” I stand up and follow him. “And I’m not a slut because I don’t know what I want. I am just trying to find it.”

  “With your vagina,” he adds.

  “Okay, Mr. Perfect. If you are so saintly, why did you fuck me on the side of the bar? After a year I might add.”

  He concentrates on the boardwalk. “I was thanking you.”

  I shove him, he barely budges and keeps right on walking. “You thank everyone with your penis?”

  “It depends on what they’ve done.” He throws his arm around me. “Still haven’t forgotten about thanking you either.”

  “That’s probably because you haven’t thanked anyone in so long.”

  “Could be.” He shrugs, stopping on the boardwalk. He peers over the edge looking down at the water. “Or maybe we worked well together and you just don’t want to admit it.”
/>   A flutter of excitement takes over my insides. Of course I agree with what he is thinking, I have been thinking our chemistry is up there with—lava.

  “There is definitely something going on between us,” I admit. “Attraction, lust, science…”

  “Science,” he says, moving around the old couple walking their equally old dog. I go the other way and meet back up once the pooch is a few feet away from us.

  “Do you think your dad and my mom felt this way about each other?”

  He shakes his head, giving me a look of disgust. “This is not the conversation I need to be having with you right now.”

  I smirk. “But reading her journals has been the most satisfying bit of romance I have ever read in my life.” And I read a lot of romance novels. “You are his son. Maybe he taught you a thing or two.”

  “He wasn’t around a lot. He taught me patience because I was always waiting for him to come back to get me.” He flexes his jaw. “What about you. What did any of what your parents did in your life teach you?”

  “Do you really want to know that?”

  “Yes, I want to know that.”

  I sit down on the bench and study the water and let out a sigh. “My parents always had me under lock and key my whole life and I never knew why until I found out about my mother. Now it all makes sense.”

  He leans against the railing. “Is that why you were dying to find out more about the 8th sin?”

  I nod, raising an eyebrow.

  “Very stupid way of going about doing that by the way. And I am sure you have a head filled with all sorts of ideas about what being a part of the 8th sin is all about. Which is an even bigger reason why you should have stayed away.” He crosses his arms. “At one time being a part of the 8th sin was an honor. It wasn’t until I was about thirteen when a bunch of guys came along trying to turn it into something it shouldn’t be.”

  “Like what?”

  “Violence and intimidation. They want control and power. They want to be able to do what they want and not suffer any consequences.”

  “And do they?”

  “Just like any other group of people that want to be above the law—they manage for the most part. The stupid ones fall through the cracks and end up in the penitentiary or dead.” He sits down. “The smart ones manage to get away with murder.”