Sinful Like Us (Like Us, #5)
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Read between March 16 - March 24, 2022
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“Come on, Jane.” My heart has been broken. Just recently. Torn to bleeding shreds, and I’m trying not to sit with these painful feelings. “You can withstand anything,” I murmur. “You’re a Cobalt.”
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“We’re still kerosene.” Flammable. Combustible. I smile. “Sounds disastrously right.”
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“Do you want to offer me a drink?” Connor asks, pulling my attention. “Water, lemonade, bourbon? You live here now, so I’m to assume you can act as a host.” Fuck all things to hell. I nod towards the fridge. “Would you like a drink?” I ask. “I can get whatever you want.” “Not right now. But I appreciate the offer, even delayed and obviously coerced.”
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“Respectfully, sir, I’m not going to apologize for following my heart. And Jane was just following hers.” His unreadable expression puts me on edge. He stands straighter and grabs his coffee. “You remind me of someone.”
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I’m head-deep, un-fucking-believably in love with this girl, and I would do anything for her.
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Do not fall into his lap like a bird without wings, Jane. You’re born from lions.
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As I raise my eyes, I linger on the stretched leather seat we share. “I was born right where you’re sitting,” I realize aloud, and my cheeks heat.
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Love is a violent emotion. Full of fortitude and might, and I’m going to be destroyed under ours, aren’t I?
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“Fuck it.” He’s a breath from my lips. “We’re switching places.” “What?” I shake my head, utterly confused. “Me and my brother. I’ll explain everything.”
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Moffy whispers, “did you talk to Thatcher about He Who Must Not Be Named?” Tony has reached Lord Voldemort levels of evil for Maximoff
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By the end, Farrow is grinning so wide that his smile reaches cheek-to-cheek. “Just say it,” Thatcher cuts in. “You like breaking the rules for her,” Farrow tells him matter-of-factly.
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I hold his neck, and our eyes sink into each other. As though the world falls hush around us, as though meeting the safety I’ve always craved has the power to stop time and grow impossible gardens. As though we’re Adam and Eve and whatever sinful deed we commit, we’ll commit together.
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Banks laughs. Sulli lands a fist in his arm too, and he hardly sways and just grins into a sip of beer. Akara smiles more and places his hands on her broad shoulders.
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Banks tips his head. “We’re just callin’ it like we see it, mermaid.” She huffs. “Yeah? And his cock is probably ten fucking times bigger than both of yours.” Akara and Banks try not to laugh, and then Banks says, “No way in hell.”
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The truth: Xander requested to stay home so he could go to therapy. He said it’s been helping lately, and he doesn’t want to miss a session.
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“Murder with the Cobalt fam,” Donnelly says through a mouthful of cheesecake. “Those who slay together, stay together.”
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First come the bodyguards. I count five. And then five famous faces bring up the rear. Charlie, Beckett, Eliot, Tom, and Ben. Every single one of my brothers. They’re all here, and they’re far too fixated on Thatcher like he’s tonight’s five-course meal.
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“Do not cower,” I coach quickly. “Do not avoid their eyes. Do not show fear. They’re little fiends that will chew you up like you’re nothing more than a three o’clock snack.”
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“Dude, it’s like a morgue in here.” Tom.
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But in this moment, he’s not a lead singer of an emo-punk band. He’s just my little brother. One who put toothpaste and shaving cream on our dad’s pillow, thinking he wouldn’t notice. (He did.) One who was so afraid of Jurassic Park as a child, he crawled into my bed for the whole month of July.
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Tom swings his head to Eliot with a laugh. “You think it’s us?” He means the dead quiet. Eliot grins. “If it’s not, I’d be offended.”
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His lips are noticeably downturned and face sullen. He locks eyes with Donnelly, his former bodyguard. I mutter under my breath, “It’s like a break-up.”
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Beckett is a heartbreaker, I’ve come to realize.
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The media talks about how we, Cobalts, are intelligent and witty. Poised and confident. But very few mention how deeply we feel.
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How Eliot can summon tears out of cold-hearted eyes. How Beckett can make your awed gasp feel like the last breath you’ll take. How Ben can harness your empathy so you do the right thing. How Tom can wake the dead things buried inside you. How Audrey can bottle love and romance like it’s life’s greatest necessity.
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And Charlie—everyone thinks he has no soul but his is just the darkest...
This highlight has been truncated due to consecutive passage length restrictions.
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I’m not even a lead anymore, and I just heard on comms that Winona and Ben got in a fight at Dalton Academy. She jumped on a senior’s back because he called Ben a crybaby pussy.
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“What are these?” I ask them. Charlie flashes a half-smile. “It’s a game called What Would You Do for Jane Cobalt?”
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Ben tells his brothers, “How would you like it if I cracked your ribcage and tore out your heart?” Charlie rips open the last buttons of his white shirt. Bare chest and toned abs in view. “Go ahead.”
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Charlie rolls his eyes in aggravation. “Maximoff can’t change this, Ben.” We’re heading towards a clusterfuck.
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“I trust you with all my heart, Audrey.” It sounds more than sincere. Like if she could, she’d die with those as her last words.
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“You can stay here and dance, but if you continue to use, then Charlie, Moffy, and I will force you on this trip.” Beckett freezes cold.
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“Fuck that,” Sulli cringes. “Jane is right. You didn’t tell me because I’m the one person who chose a sport over a childhood and I’m the one person who can tell you fuck your excuses.”
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Charlie rises, leaning his weight on a cane. “What have you learned, children?” This is a classic Cobalt word game. What have you learned, children? Whoever asks this directs the game to those younger than them.
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But quickly, I slip into the booth and hug Ben. He cries into my shoulder. “He’ll be okay, Pippy,” I whisper,
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It hurts even knowing that months ago Farrow was in this exact position. And I was the asshole on the other side, berating him. Karma—it’s got its hands wrapped around my windpipe. I want it to choke me.
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“Admit what you did was wrong.” “I can’t do that.” Flat-out. I can’t. Being with Jane is the most right thing I’ve ever done.
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Everyone on Epsilon feels like I betrayed their trust, their respect, but the person I betrayed the most is standing right there. And the look Akara gives me now—it cuts me open and spills
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I trust Farrow. I’ve always trusted him. And I need him.
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Farrow slides off his silver rings from his right hand. His smile grows. “Shit, this is not how I thought today would be going.”
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Xander opens his arms wide. “Exactly. 99% of the time, you’re protecting me inside my own damn room. And we both know that the threats are mostly just me.”
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I’ve seen Xander at some of the lowest points. I’ve tried to pull him up. I remember him at eleven. How he couldn’t get out of bed one morning. He was crying, sobbing, and could barely breathe as he said, “I don’t want to be here.”
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But Xander Hale has different demons that he needs us to fight off. It’s why I’m here. What I’m made to do.
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“I wish you were my little brother, but you’re someone else’s.” It kills me to say that out loud. “Maximoff and even Farrow will be there for you for the rest of your life when I can’t be.”
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and then Donnelly arrives with hot hoagies from Wawa.
poppy
The first time it's always unforgettable
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Donnelly inked every single one of Beckett’s tattoos, and all are flowers from roses to daisies to lilies and poppies, as homage to our mom and aunts.
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Beckett lies back down, smoothly like silk resting on an idle lake. Even in his anger, he’s graceful.
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I snap a fuzzy blue handcuff on his wrist, and the other end, I lock onto mine. “Congratulations, you’re now very much attached to me.”
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I have to remember what Charlie said, “He’s going to be an asshole. A real dick. Don’t listen to him.”
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I also have to remember—he’s a Cobalt.
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