Sinful: A Dark Asylum Bully Romance (The Boys of Chapel Crest Book 5)
Sinful: Chapter 52

Church came downstairs a half hour after he took Sirena away from us. We’d sat in silence, awaiting his return. The good news was I didn’t see any blood on him aside from a little on his knuckles, which meant he’d definitely punched Sin at least once.

We looked to Church as he sat in his chair, his silence making me uneasy.

“Is he dead?” Stitches finally asked.

“No,” Church replied, staring back at us. “He’s currently at the lake on his knees. Praying for Sirena since that’s what he said he was doing.”

“Why? What did you do to her?” I got to my feet, the thought of trusting him with her never making me falter until that moment.

“Relax.” Church waved me off. “She’s sleeping. Sin is alive. For now.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Stitches demanded.

I glared at Church, really hoping he wasn’t going to piss me off more tonight. I had no idea he’d bugged the damn house. It was an invasion of privacy that we’d get to soon enough once we got the Sin thing sorted.

“Well, he said he’d beg on his knees until he was forgiven. So he’s on his knees. In the morning, I expect you to go to him and let him beg you to forgive him.”

“It’s fucking freezing outside. He’ll die,” I snapped at him. “What the fuck is your problem, Dante? Huh? You do realize the world doesn’t revolve around you and your wants, right?”

He got to his feet when I got to mine.

“Her world revolves around me, and I intend to keep every motherfucker who intends on hurting her out. If he wants in, he can fucking beg.”

I shook my head in disgust at him.

“We’re going to get him tonight.”

“We aren’t. He’s working on his prayers—”

I got in Church’s face, my chest heaving with anger.

“So help me, Dante, I will burn this motherfucking house down with you inside it if I have to. Don’t fucking push me on it. Sirena loves him. She wants him. It’s her fucking choice. Not yours. You don’t get to decide. She. Fucking. Chooses!” I shoved him in the chest before storming past him and grabbing my jacket.

I thought he’d fight me on it. Instead, he pulled his phone out and made a call.

“I need you to watch Sirena while we go out. No. That’s fine. Be quick.” He hung up, and Stitches got to his feet.

“Asylum is on his way. He’s going to watch her while we’re gone—” The words weren’t out of his mouth before there was a knock on our door.

I pulled it open to replace Asylum on our front step, his black beanie pulled low and his cheeks rosy.

Or Mirage, judging by his white rabbit mask.

“What the fuck. You fly here, witchcraft?” Stitches muttered at him.

Mirage smirked at him. “I had a feeling I’d be needed. So here I am.”

I sighed and rolled my eyes. Church was cool keeping Asylum/Mirage around, the guy who tried to die with her in a coffin, but had issues with Sin. His logic baffled me.

“I’m a good guy, Asher. You know that.” Mirage winked at me. “We want the same things.”

“Are you Mirage or Asylum today? I’d like to know so I don’t piss you off and have you correcting me every few minutes,” I said.

“I’m Mirage,” he answered, cocking his head to the right. “Asylum can be a pain, can’t he?”

“You’re a pain. Keep an eye on Sirena. Church drugged her and knocked her out. Don’t fucking touch her,” I warned.

“Of course. Fucking the unconscious is Church’s thing, not mine. At least not usually. I’ll be a good little nutcase and stay downstairs. The cameras are watching.” He pointed to various spots in the room. “Am I right, Dante? That’s where they are?”

“Some of them,” Church commented, grabbing his jacket and shrugging it on.

“Up the stairs. Down the stairs. In the rooms. Even watches while you brush your hair. Or hairs?” Mirage cocked his head to the right again. “Ah, well. Time is wasting. Run to little Sin by the lake before he freezes to death. Sirena, nor Asylum, would not like that.”

I crinkled my brows at him.

“You’re so fucking weird,” I muttered, wondering why he was speaking in the third person. I’d never figure it out, so the point was moot. Instead, I stepped outside, Church and Stitches behind me, and headed off to Sin’s favorite spot at the lake.

Sin was on his knees facing the lake when we came upon him. He clearly hadn’t moved. I admired that, but I knew he had to be freezing.

“Hey,” Stitches said, going to step in front of him.

“H-hey,” Sin answered, trembling from the cold.

“You should come inside. It’s cold out here.”

“No.” Sin’s voice shook as he shivered. “I’ve not paid my penance. I’ve not begged. I’m not forgiven. I don’t expect to be. Let me die at my spot. Tell Sirena. . . Tell her I’m sorry.”

Stitches let out an exasperated sigh.

“Man, come on. Let’s go.”

“No.” Sin shook again but remained on his knees.

“Sinclair,” I called out.

“Asher, I’m not leaving. Stop, OK? I accept my fate.”

I looked to Church, who frowned in Sin’s direction. We all knew Sin struggled with his emotions, and understanding love and all that. This was just one of those instances he struggled to wrap his head around. Everything always had to be so damn complicated with him.

“Sin, please. We can talk at home,” I pressed, shivering as the cold wind blew in. If his ass didn’t come inside, he’d be dead by morning. There was no way he’d survive these temps in nothing but his jacket. He didn’t even have a damn hat or gloves on. He simply stayed on his knees in his jacket and jeans, his fingers running along the rosary he held.

“Take care of my snake,” he said, his teeth chattering. “Sirena named him William Snakespeare. He means a lot in more ways than you can imagine. I want her to learn to not-not be afraid anymore. I think Bill will help with that.”

“Sin—”

“Asher, please. Just leave me.”

I let out a sigh of frustration. I didn’t want to knock his ass out and drag him home, but I definitely would if it came down to it.

“Beg me,” Stitches broke in.

Sin looked up at him. “What?”

“Beg me to forgive you,” Stitches said. “I want to hear you say all the shit in your head to me. Beg me.”

Sin was quiet for a moment before he spoke, his voice soft.

“I’m sorry, Malachi. You’re one of my best friends in the entire world. You trusted me, and I broke that trust by letting my fear take over. I’m so fucking sorry. I don’t have enough breath in my-my lungs to tell you how sorry I am and always will be for what I did and what happened to you and Sirena. I-I don’t deserve to live. To be your friend. To be anything more than dust. But I swear to you, if I can come home, I’ll prove I’m worth it. That I’m loyal and love you all so damn much. You’re my family.” Tears rolled down his cheeks before freezing in place. “I want that again. I-I’m begging you to please forgive me. Give me another chance. Let me s-show you how much this means to me. How much you all mean to me. Let me prove what I’m willing to do to-to be a family again. You’re all I have in this world. You’re all I fucking have. I’m so goddamn sorry. Please, Malachi. Please. Forgive me. I-I’m begging on my knees for you to let me come home. I’ll do anything you ask of me. If death is your wish for me, then so be it. Just please. . . know how deeply I ache for my sins. I would take your place in an instant and go through that hell so it didn’t happen to you. Fuck, Malachi. I’m sorry. Goddamnit it! I’m sorry.” He let out a sob, his head bowed, his body shaking.

I swallowed the lump in my throat at his words, seriously hoping Stitches gave him the green light he desperately needed.

I glanced to Church to see him watching the scene, his face emotionless.

Stitches went to his knees in front of him and cradled his face in his hands.

“You fucked everything up, Sinclair,” he said fiercely. “Everything. Each night, when I sleep, I relive the nightmare of what happened. Of the forced. . . the way they forced themselves inside my body.” Stitches’s voice cracked. “But I don’t know want to lose you either. I’m angry at you for what you did. It may take me a long time to get over it. Not for me, but for what Sirena went through too. Because she suffers even now. She suffers because even going through it, she loved you. Your actions hurt and confused her. She trusted you too.”

“I know,” Sin choked out. “I know.”

“If you ever fucking think of hurting her again, I’ll kill you myself.”

Sin nodded, wordless.

“I forgive you. Brother.” Stitches reached out and hugged Sin to him, making Sin weep softly, his body shaking from his tears.

They stayed that way for a long time, holding one another. Finally, Stitches got to his feet and looked to Church.

“I’ve forgiven him,” he said evenly. “My part is done.”

Church nodded and looked to me.

I went and stood in front of Sin, who stared up at me, half the tears on his face a frozen mess.

“You hurt all of us. You know you did. I’ve seen the way you’ve changed in the last few weeks. You’re not the guy I knew. I hate that. I really do. I miss that grumpy fucker.” I went to my knees in front of him. “I forgave you long ago. I know what it’s like to hurt inside and be confused about it. I get it. I know how much you love Sirena and how much she loves you. I don’t want to take that from either of you. I want you to come home to us. OK?”

He nodded, more tears flowing.

I leaned in and kissed his forehead before getting to my feet and giving Church a pointed look.

He said nothing as he stepped around me and faced Sin.

“Beg,” he said softly.

“Please, Dante. Please, let me come home to my family. I beg you to give me a second chance. Please. I’m sorry for disappointing you. All of you guys. For all my sins. My mental shit. My-my mistakes. The watchers are my family, and you mean the world to me. I was so afraid of losing you that I didn’t stop to think that my actions would be the catalyst for my fears. I-I don’t know how to beg harder. What would you have me do?” Sin looked up at him, a plea to his voice. “I’ll do it. Anything you want.”

Church pulled his knife free from his boot and twirled it along his fingers.

“Make a blood vow to me,” Church said.

“Yes,” Sin agreed without hesitating.

I looked to Stitches, knowing exactly what a blood vow meant in our world. If you broke it, you died. There were no do-overs. No second, third, or fourth chances. One fuck up, and that was it. Game over.

Church signed his name in blood whenever he did a transaction with his father. Hell, whenever he did any meaningful transaction. It was just who he was.

“Repeat after me,” Church instructed. “I, Sinclair Priest, vow to give my life should I ever fuck up. Any misstep that would cause harm to Sirena or my brothers, and I will take a knife to the heart and die on its blade without protest. That I will do what is necessary to protect her from all pain and danger.”

Sin repeated his words, his voice quaking more from the cold.

“Hold out your hand,” Church said.

Sin did as he was told. I watched while Church cut his hand, the blood blossoming out. A moment later, he drew the knife over Sin’s palm.

Church slid his bloody hand against Sin’s.

“To the fucking grave, Sinclair. And then back again.”

“To the fucking grave, Dante. And then back again,” Sin repeated.

“And when we can’t breathe anymore?”

“We fucking do it anyway,” Sin answered.

“’Til the end, brother.”

“’Til the end,” Sin’s voice shook again, his and Church’s blood dripping onto the white snow.

“Welcome home, Sinclair,” Church said, pulling Sin to his feet. “Now, let’s get you home so I can properly punch you in the face.”

I let out a breath of relief before looking to Stitches, who looked how I felt.

“I’m still pissed at you,” Church continued.

“I know. And I’ll let you hit me again as many times as you want.”

“Be careful what you promise me. You know I’m a devil who collects.”

“I know,” Sin said as I steadied him. He shivered again, but at least the light was back in his eyes.

It was better than the darkness.

Way fucking better.