Sins & Needles (The Artists Trilogy #1)

Even if we weren’t together. Because we wouldn’t be together. I knew what I had to do, to give him his life back. And to right the wrongs in mine.

I pulled away, letting the last tear roll down my cheek. I nodded at the road in front of us, the brightly colored shops and groomed palm trees that lined Main Street like a beacon, all pointing us in the right direction. The only direction.

He studied me for a minute, as if memorizing every line on my face. I let him. And I did the same. His quirky full lips, expressive brows, those eyes that knew me, the real me, for everything that I was and everything that I had been. Everything I would be. Even through his reading glasses, he looked like the most handsome man I’d ever seen. I wished he’d gotten a chance to tattoo the back of my leg. I wish he’d made his mark everywhere. I wished everyone could see how much he’d imprinted himself on my heart.

We drove up to the shop and parked in front in visitor’s parking. It looked the same as it always did. His rock garden looked tidy, proof that it was the perfect garden for lazy people and fugitives. There was no one around. No other cars. Even the street seemed quiet for three in the afternoon.

He turned off the engine and handed me the keys.

“You might have to give this back now,” he said, attempting a joke. His hand closed over mine and we knew it wasn’t a joke at all.

I gave him the only smile I could muster. “Here we go.”

We stepped out of the car. As we did so, a black Denali SUV roared up beside us and idled on the side of the street. At the same time, the door to Sins & Needles opened and Javier stepped out. He was wearing a tight fitting white t-shirt that showed off his athletic build and grey jeans. He was going for the ‘don’t be afraid of me’ look which was pretty redundant when you were wearing shitkicker boots.

He raised his arms wide, like he was welcoming us to his home, a smile on his face that seemed to split his face in two.

“You made it,” he exclaimed and ran down the steps two at a time. He clapped his hands together as he walked over to Camden, rubbing them like he was about to eat him for dessert.

My eyes darted between the two men, Camden who was over six feet and looked ready to bash his head in, Javier who was 5’10” and as agile as a reptile on a really warm day. I’d been in love with one of them once, and the other now. I couldn’t believe the men in my life, and how, deep down, all three of us were kind of the same.

I met Camden in high school, a place that taught me kill or be killed better than my parents ever could. I met Javier after. He helped me perfect the skill.

“You must be Camden McQueen,” Javier said, grinning cordially. That was the thing about him. He was so charming, open and friendly, that you’d never see the strike coming. But Camden did. He’d played with enough snakes in his day. He wasn’t fooled for a second.

“Where’s my son?” he asked. I almost heard his teeth grinding.

Javier cocked his head. “Oh, you’re worried about them? Well they’re right up there.”

He jerked his head at the shop.

Camden looked but shook his head. “I’m not an idiot. I’m not going up there until I know they’re safe, until I can see them. You let them go.”

Javier rolled his eyes in an exaggerated motion. He stuck a thumb at him like ‘who’s this guy?’ while looking at me, exasperated. “Angel, you never told me he was such a stickler for details.”

“Do what he says, Javier,” I said, sounding a lot more confident than I felt.

He sighed, long and hard. “Fine.” He turned around and waved at the house. “Hey, let them out. Someone misses them.”

Raul appeared at the screen door and opened it. A petite woman with lovely curves and long dark hair came out. Sophia. The woman in Camden’s painting. Her face was bruised, but other than that, she looked okay. She was holding onto a chubby but incredibly cute little boy, quite a bit older from the art on Camden’s leg.

“Camden,” she cried out. I would be lying if I didn’t feel a pang in my heart at the sound of her calling his name.

He took off to them, running up the stairs. He scooped up the boy first, the boy who had maybe forgotten who his daddy was but still looked pleased to see him nonetheless. Seeing Ben in his arms also made my heart ache.

Javier was watching me and noticed this. He stepped closer and reached out, brushing my hair behind my ears, a disarming tenderness in his eyes. It took everything I had to keep from screaming, to keep from running.

But I was done running. This was the music I had to face.

It sounded a lot like Dire Straits.

“I have you now,” he whispered. “Now and forever.”

I raised my chin and looked at him. “You’re giving him the money.”

His lips snaked into a smile. “Of course.”

He turned around and looked at them on the porch. Camden was talking to Ben, who was now crying, trying to calm the boy down.

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