Black Hearts (Sins Duet #1)

“Not at all,” I say emphatically, though the article quickly crosses my mind.

“All right. Well,” he says, hands cupping my face as he kisses me softly on the mouth. My eyes flutter closed and I sink into the kiss, the feel of his tongue brushing against mine, sending champagne bubbles down my spine. God, I want to go back to his hotel with him and make everything go away. No more thoughts, no more worries.

Just his body and mine.

“See you tomorrow, mirlo,” he whispers as he pulls away. He gives my hand a squeeze and then he’s walking down the street. I stand on the bottom step and wait until his tall figure disappears.

Then I slowly trudge up the stairs and back into the house.





Chapter Twelve





Ellie




A mother’s worst nightmare.

No, Ellie thinks, slamming back the glass of wine. My worst nightmare.

She doesn’t know what to think, how to act. She knows she might be going crazy.

Like, fucking crazy.

In a way that her anti-anxiety medication can’t handle.

Because there is no way in hell that that’s Javier’s son.

It can’t be. There’s no reason for that to be him.

She doesn’t even know if Javier has a goddamn son.

And yet, she looked into those eyes and that’s all she saw.

A ghost from her past in another form. A specter with a glowing amber gaze.

The front door slams, making Ellie jump. Violet has come back inside.

She knows that she was a total bitch to him and that Violet is angry. She has every right to be.

I’m a fucking terrible mother, she thinks. The first time in forever she brings a guy home, a guy she’s happy about, and this is how I act?

Why does it have to be someone that reminds me of Javier?

She has to push past this.

“Vi,” she says to her, patting the space beside her. “Come here.”

Her daughter glares at her in that way she does so well. She knows she’s hurting inside at the way she acted. Violet gets bruised so easily.

Yet another reason why she has to be careful.

Ellie needs to talk to Camden before she loses her mind.

“Mom,” Violet says, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall. “I can’t believe you.”

If only you could see what I see.

“I’m sorry,” Ellie says, because it’s what she has to say. Everything she says next is what she needs to say in order to make everything okay again. “I’m…”

“Yeah, you said you needed new meds. But what am I supposed to tell him?”

“Other than the fact you just told him I needed new meds?” she says snidely, because yeah, she’s pissed off about that too. This isn’t a family where everyone throws each other under the bus.

“Look, you were being a bitch.”

“Violet,” she says, but she’s too tired to yell. And fuck, she was being a bitch. She has to own that.

She takes in a deep breath, feeling all too fragile. “I’m sorry. This caught me off guard. I wasn’t feeling well and you came home with this guy, and I guess he just reminded me of someone.”

“Mr. Smooth Moves.”

Smooth Moves? She almost laughs. Smooth never quite explained it. But he had moves all right.

That thought makes her feel like dirt on the inside.

“Mom?”

Her daughter is eyeing her in a strange way. Concerned. Ellie doesn’t know what’s showing on her face. She straightens up and shoves a handful of popcorn into her mouth, chewing while she gathers her thoughts.

“So why were you and Dad in Mexico?” Violet asks over her shoulder as she heads to the kitchen. Ellie can hear her rifling through the fridge, and when she comes back, she has another bottle of wine.

It’s an expensive one but she’s not complaining. She needs this and she’s sure Violet does too. She watches her daughter as she unscrews the cap and fills both their glasses before settling down in the armchair. She’s watching her with such wariness that Ellie feels like a caged animal.

“Well? Why? I never heard you mention it before?” Violet is as stubborn as her mom. Ellie would normally feel a twinge of pride, but right now it’s hindering to be put on the spot like this.

You used to be so good at lying.

“As I said, it was a long time ago.”

“Like, how long? 2013”

That gets Ellie’s attention. How did she guess the year so exactly?

She watches Violet.

Violet watches back.

Goddamn it, she’s becoming wary of her own daughter now.

She’s ashamed at that. Her daughter is everything to her, has been everything. Violet doesn’t deserve this.

Ever since she found that letter telling Camden that his father had died, she’s been on a razor-thin edge. She still doesn’t know who sent the damn thing or what it means.

Camden doesn’t know either.

He wants to believe that it’s someone he knew, maybe an old client, someone still in the community of Palm Valley that somehow found out where they lived and wanted to let them know what happened.

Anonymously.

Of course, Ellie isn’t too sure.

“Around then. That’s a good guess,” she says carefully.

Violet shrugs. “Well, you said Ben was three…”

Ellie relaxes a little. Violet’s mode of deduction is fast. She’s always been quick.

God, she’s proud of her daughter.

“Me and your father went to Veracruz to see an old friend of ours. Ben stayed with your Grandpa Gus in Gualala.”

She hates having to lie like this, but it’s better than the truth.

The truth that Ellie and Camden have spent their children’s lives trying to protect them from.

The fact that they aren’t who their children think they are.

They’re bad people.

Criminals.

Especially Ellie. Camden only did what he had to do in the past to protect Ben, then later to protect her. Camden has always been the good one.

Ellie has always been the bad one.

A wounded animal that can’t stop biting back.

But that’s not who you are anymore, she reminds herself as she sips the wine, ever so grateful for the numbing affect. The person you were is long gone.

She has to remind herself of that.

Often.

And when the memories become too much, when the past creeps into her veins and blackens her heart, that’s when the medication kicks in.