Page 1 of Sin (Salvation #1)

Sin

Three Years Ago

I can hear Cassidy gasping for breath in the next room, and all I can see is the box of asthma medicine on the desk directly in front of where my father is sitting.

I could grab it and make a run for it—get to Cassidy and administer it to him, but, knowing my father, the box is empty, and then I’ve shown my hand.

He’ll torture me. Make me beg for the medicine.

Which I would. For Cassidy, I’d do anything.

But my begging wouldn’t ensure Cassidy lives.

Once my father knows how far I’d go to save him, he might let Cassidy die just to break me.

Or he’d let me have the medicine and then use Cassidy against me.

He’d hurt him to keep me in line. Cassidy won’t turn eighteen for almost three years.

Until then he’ll be at my father’s mercy, and he’d torture Cassidy ever day of those three years just to see my pain.

No. To win this game with my father, I have to play it cool.

“Are you going to do something about him?” I ask like I’m talking about the weather. “Mercer is coming over, and it’s gonna be awkward to explain why I have a dying brother on the floor.”

My father studies me like I’m a bug under a microscope. “Doesn’t it bother you seeing him like that? It seemed you two grew close this summer while Sheila and I were on our honeymoon.”

I want to punch myself. I screwed up. I let down my guard while he was gone, and let my father’s spies see Cassidy and me laughing and having fun together. I let them see how much he mattered to me.

I shrug. “I thought I’d try playing at being a brother.”

“And how was it?” he asks, watching me carefully.

I give him a cold-eyed stare. “Kinda boring. I want to go back to being an only child.”

He smiles, which always sends a slithering shot of fear up my spine. His smile is like a snake’s rattle. It means he’s at his most evil and dangerous.

Everyone else sees the fiery Sunday morning preacher who screams and cries against sin. To some, he’s their savior. To some, he’s a joke; an over-the-top, pay-for-prayer, evangelical scammer. When I look at him, I see the Devil.

“In that case, this asthma attack is good timing for you.”

“Yeah,” I agree, “except the whole Mercer thing.” I shrug again. “I’ll just head over to his house instead,” I say and start to walk out of the study, desperately hoping with each step I’ve passed the test.

Just as I’m about to turn on my heels, drop to my knees, and beg for the albuterol, he calls me back.

“Sin.”

I close my eyes in relief. “What?” I huff in irritation as I turn back toward him.

He throws the inhaler at me, and I catch it. Wanting nothing more than to run to Cassidy, who is still violently struggling for breath, I force my feet to stay where they are. This game isn’t over yet.

“I still want him gone,” I tell my father.

He nods at the inhaler, “Guess that’s your call now, son.”

I don’t take the time to marvel at his callousness. “Nah, too messy. I’ll let the nerd live another day to read another book, but I want him gone. I’m sick of sharing my space. Send him away to school.”

“I could always send him to my friend Jefferson’s charter school that he started.” My father’s face breaks into another snake rattle of a grin. “It would do Cassidy good. Make a man out of him.”

Over my dead body. I’ve heard horror stories about what happens at that place.

“Not far enough away,” I object. “I want him at one of those wonky, intellectual schools on the East Coast where he only gets shipped home during the summer. He’s such a nerd, you probably wouldn’t even have to pay for it. He probably qualifies for a merit-based scholarship.”

I can tell he likes that idea. The cheap bastard.

“What do I get out of it? If I send the brat away, I’ll be losing out on using him as a marketing tool for my stance on family values.”

I don’t mention that seconds ago he was willing to let him die, because now that we’re at the negotiations part of this sick test, I know I’ve won. I don’t have time to negotiate terms, though, so I give him what I know he really wants.

“If you get rid of him to the East Coast, I’ll extend your management of the trust that controls the house and the land the Citadel is built on for three years.”

Just enough time for Cassidy to turn eighteen. Then I can set my other plans in motion.

My father tries to play it cool, but he practically drools at the offer.

He nods. “I’ll have it settled by tomorrow.” In the distance, Cassidy fights for breath. My father points to the inhaler. “Better go use that thing. He’s not sounding so good.”

I salute him and stroll out the door. Once it’s shut, I start running to help Cassidy.

Cassidy comes down the stairs dressed in his new school uniform and carrying a suitcase. Both Gideon and his mother have already left to have an early dinner with one of the deacons of the Citadel. Which means I’m the only one left to see him off and say goodbye.

He puts his suitcase down and doesn’t bother looking around for his mother. At fifteen, he’s used to her disappointing him.

I study him. It’s been two days since his asthma attack, and he still looks too pale to me, and there’s a rasp to his breathing I don’t like. I need to make sure that Bellmore gets his medical records.

I come up to stand in front of him, and he looks up at me, raw hurt in his blue-flecked hazel eyes. He knows it was me who made my father send him away. He just doesn’t know why.

It’s better this way. Cassidy is smart. Prodigy smart. He’ll enjoy Bellmore, and he’ll be far away from this pit of vipers, which I know I’m one of.

The car horn honks, signaling that it’s time for him to leave.

He looks up at me desperately. “Please don’t make me leave.” His hand reaches out to touch my arm, “You’re all that I have.”

Ignoring his words, I pick up his suitcase and begin carrying it out the door.

“Sin,” he begs me, “if you don’t make me go, I’ll be better, I promise. I won’t follow you around anymore. I’ll try not to have any more asthma attacks, I’ll stop ? —”

“I never wanted a stepbrother, and I never wanted you.”

Not able to look at the tears forming in his eyes, I walk his suitcase over to Hal—who is driving Cassidy to the airport—and stand back as Cassidy gives me one last heartbroken look and climbs in the sedan.

I watch them drive out the private gates heading to the highway. Then, all alone, I walk back inside.