Page 99 of Sinner's Sacrifice

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Page 99 of Sinner's Sacrifice

“How so?” his aunt asked, surprise widening her eyes.

“He once told me his position in his family was as the babysitter.”

Shit. He closed his eyes and covered his face with one hand. His aunt was going to murder him.

“You don’t agree?” his aunt asked.

“No, he’s the peacekeeper.”

A peace—what now?

His aunt laughed in complete disbelief.

Even Baz chuckled.

Sam glanced around, taking in everyone’s reaction, even his. “You’re all blind to it, of course,” she said. “But he’s the one who keeps the lot of you calm and thinking about options, rather than killing everything you see. He’s the one whose people clean up behind you when you do make a mess. And make those messes disappear.”

She kept going. “He’s the one who has escape plans A, B, C, D, and all the way through the alphabet to keep his people safe or get them out of harm’s way. He’s the one who fosters loyalty with his employees, so even when things get weird, they stay and do their jobs.”

She moved her glare from face to face. “None of you would be here, alive and not in jail, without him.”

No one said anything.

“And you treat him like crap.” She threw the words into the room like they were hand grenades.

Sam turned, looked at him, then strode up and grabbed his necktie. “I have some things to say to you.” She spun him around, her fingers looped through his tie, and pulled him back toward his bedroom.

“Samantha,” he half-protested. “I need to deal with the police.”

“They can wait a few minutes,” she said, guiding him through the doorway, then shutting the door behind them. “I’m done with waiting.”

She locked the door.

Now was his moment, his opportunity to tell her who he was, his entire murdering, bloody, horrible story. But, now that the time had come, he didn’t know what to say that might convince her to stay. Convince her he wasn’t a danger to her. Convince her he valued her for her and not her genetics.

“Sam, I—”

“Shut up,” she barked, glaring at him. She thrust a finger under his nose and shook it. “You are going to stop letting your family treat you like shit.”

He sighed. “Baz doesn’t treat me that way. Mason and Magnus don’t either.”

“You’re too good for the whole damned bunch of them.”

“Sam, I—”

“Shut up,” she said. Her gaze flicked across his face, as if examining him for injury. Her breathing became heavy and fast. “I saw you get bashed on the head with some kind of club. I thought you were going to die. You should have died.” Tears trickled out of the corners of her eyes and down her face. “I don’t understand all the voodoo bullshit going on with you and your family, but...” she let go of his tie to grab his lapels with both hands. “You are not allowed to put yourself in danger like that again.”

“Samantha, I have responsibilities to—”

“No.”

“But—”

She gave him a shake. “Shut up and kiss me.”

He froze. He could not have heard her right.

“Now?” He angled his thumb over his shoulder toward the door. “There are a bunch of people out there, and I didn’t think you’d be...I mean...now?”




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