Page 52 of Perfect Sin
15
Visitation
Sin
This isthe part I love the most, the anticipation. No matter how much I try and shove this part of me down to the depths of my being, it claws its way back to the surface. It hungers for chaos and feeds on fear.
Tired of sitting in the dark, I pull the string on the lamp, casting a glow on the immediate area. My gun makes a loud clank when I set in on the nightstand.
“What the hell!”
My target jolts upright in bed, and my heart beats a staccato rhythm. I lay my hand on the gun to draw his attention to it. “We need to talk.”
“Jackson, what are you doing in our room?”
“I just told you,Father, we need to talk.”
“I’m glad you’re home, but honestly this can wait until the morning. You’re scaring your mother.”
“Only her?” I ask, spinning the gun on top of the slick wood surface.
“We aren’t doing this right now. I’ll talk to you in the morning,” he says as if he has the power in this conversation.
“Yeah, see that isn’t going to work for me, because I don’t plan to be here in the morning. This conversation has to happen now.”
Arthur reaches for his phone. I grab the gun and signal for him to put it down. “I really don’t think you want to do that. Think of all the negative publicity. That’s why you want me here, right? ‘Long lost son returns’ would have been good press, but when that son turns up married to the daughter of your political rival, that’s a problem.”
“So you understand. The sooner we get you on board and you stop cavorting with the Blackthornes the better.”
The other light comes on with a click. “Now, that’s not going to work for me,” Lucien says, startling Carina awake.
She screams, and Lucien smiles. “I’ve missed this,” he says to me.
“Just shut her up,” I order him.
His smile grows, and he rips a length of tape off a roll of duct tape. This only causes her to scream louder. He smooths the tape across her mouth, muffling her screeching.
“I don’t know how else to drive this point home. You will not interfere in my marriage. And there’s still the fact that you sent a rapist after my wife.”
Lucien leans forward, his gun hanging casually from his hand. “My sister has never done anything to hurt anyone. Well, except for Kyle.”
“And those men your father sent after us,” I remind him.
“Right, and them. But otherwise, she’s never hurt a fly.”
“What?” Arthur asks, grasping at his blankets. “What happened to Kyle?”
Lucien grimaces. “Knife to the eye. I guess she is more of a Blackthorne than I gave her credit for.”
Arthur sputters, “What! Oh, that poor boy. Is he in the hospital?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. Is the morgue in the hospital?”
“Morgue? He’s dead?”
“Knife. To. The. Eye. How did you think that would end up?” Lucien asks sarcastically.
“Oh—”