A Necessary Sin: The Sin Trilogy: Book I

I’m struggling with my decision. Not because I care anything about Thane. My conflict is spurred by my feelings for Sin. I hate the thought of destroying his world, especially so soon after his brush with death. But I’m forced to choose who comes first–him or Harry.

I can’t continue to stay. Time is my other enemy. I must do this and get home so I can be with my dying father. I’ve already lost more time than I intended.

I need to hear Harry’s reassuring voice one last time before I go through with this. I use my burner phone to place the call and he answers on the first ring. “Hey, girlie.”

“I’m calling about the status of my account.” I spout off a phony number.

Harry and I have our own language no one else is privy to. Each line has been carefully chosen to signify something distinct. We do this because my voice could be heard through a planted bug. “I’m withdrawing the entire balance so I’ll be closing the account today.”

“You’re inside Thane’s?”

“Yes.”

“You’re proceeding tonight?” I have to. I’m not sure when I’ll have another opportunity.

“That’s right.”

“Be careful, girlie. You’re a lamb in the lion’s den. There’s no room for error.” He’s right. One false move and I’m dead. Game over.

“Of course.”

“In devoting your life to making this right, it would be a shame to get it wrong. Take your time. Don’t rush the kill.” I’ve vested my entire existence around this moment. I’ve lived and breathed for it. I won’t ruin it now.

“Everything appears to be correct.”

“I expect a follow-up call as soon as you’re able,” Harry reminds me.

“I’ll phone back to confirm everything was in order.”

“I love you.” We didn’t cipher anything for this one.

“Thank you.” I want to tell him how much I love him but this will have to do.

I return the untraceable burner phone to its hidden compartment within my bag. I walk the guest room floor as I go over my plan in my head one last time. Thane’s working late in his office. He drinks bourbon, at least three, every night so his reflexes and mental status are sluggish. I’m going to knock and enter. He’ll be on low alert, not expecting me to have any motive other than a request to talk. I’m going to tell him who I am before I kill him. I’ll recount all the details about that night—how I heard the fired shots while I was hiding beneath my bed, the devastation of watching him kill my beloved dog, and how frightened I was as he held a pillow over my face. When I finish, I’m going to order him to his knees. I hope he begs me to not kill him when I place the barrel of my gun to his temple.

Time to do this.

I walk the hall and do just as I’ve strategized. I knock and listen for him to tell me to enter.

It’s while I’m standing there waiting for Thane to respond that I realize I’ve traded my life and all I love for this moment. My entire existence has been dedicated to this execution and I’m suddenly overcome by emotions I don’t understand. My purpose in life is ending. What will I possibly do once this is over? This is the close of a lifelong mission—the death of my dream. I should be happy, or at least satisfied, but I’m not.

There’s no reply from within so I knock again, still without an answer. I open the door and go inside to find a sleeping Thane on his sofa. Correction: a passed-out Thane since he reeks of bourbon.

He’s making his extermination too easy for me. But this isn’t the way I want it. Killing an incoherent Thane will be less than satisfying. I need him to be looking into the eyes of the little girl he wronged as he dies. It’s how I’ve envisioned it my entire life and I don’t think anything less will fulfill me.

“Wake up, Thane.” I nudge his shoulder but he doesn’t budge. “Wake up. I want to see fear in your eyes when I put a bullet in your head.”

He stirs and a photograph falls from his hand face down onto the floor. I pick it up—what does a man like him hold dear? What does he clench to his heart while drinking until he passes out?

It’s him with my mother. They’re embracing, smiling, in front of the entrance to a casino. They look … happy. In love.

Why is he clutching this photograph? Perhaps his actions have plagued him for the last eighteen years. I hope so.

I place the barrel of my gun against his temple, just the way I’ve planned all these years. I hesitate, something I didn’t anticipate, and it has everything to do with Sinclair.

If I kill Thane, the mission is over and there’ll be no reason to stay. My time with Sin will be over—the last grain of sand will fall through our hourglass. I’m suddenly aware of how unprepared I am to walk away from him.

I can’t do this—not yet. I haven’t had all the time I want with Sin.

“Dammit to hell!” I take my gun away from Thane’s head. “This is your lucky day.” Only because I love your son.

I’m standing over Thane, gun in hand, when the door opens.