Sinners Anonymous (Sinners Anonymous, #1)

by Somme Sketcher

Meanwhile, the sinful truth is buried six feet underneath them. No matter what romantic prose is chiseled into a marble headstone, true love doesn’t exist. It’s nothing but hope in a different form. A concept for the poor and the powerless to latch onto when there’s nothing else.

Mama is lowered first and I find myself sinking with her; the only woman I’ll ever get on my knees for.

Rafe crouches next to me, brings his fist up to his mouth, and blows. With a flick of his wrist, a pair of dice scatters across the lid, rolling off the curve and falling into the gap between the coffin and the soil.

“For my Lady Luck,” he rasps, running a hand through his hair. “Good luck up there, Mama.”

Mama believed in fate as much as she believed in God. But while she was content having never seen or heard the big man in the sky, she constantly sought out proof that fate existed. She searched for it everywhere. Five-dollar tarot readings by fortune tellers at the fair, the little eight-ball key ring attached to her house keys.

The death of my father marks a new era for the Cosa Nostra, and it starts with me. The new capo of Devil’s Dip.

“At first, I used just one finger, but then…” I trail off, flustering. His shoulders hitch. “But then?” “I realized one of your fingers is equal to two of mine.” “Fuck, Aurora.” When he turns around, his eyes are as wild. Hungry. “You’re my uncle’s fiancee. I can’t touch you.” “Who are you trying to convince—me or yourself?”

“Does it feel good, baby?”

“You like atoning for your sins, don’t you, baby?”

I hate that “look but don’t touch” is a hard and fast rule. It has to be, because I know the moment I taste those lips—either set of them—there’s no way I can go back to London.

“Because seeing you in your engagement dress is hard enough. But seeing you in your wedding dress?” A growl vibrates deep within me. I tighten my grip. “That’ll be fucking torture.”

I should have told him that it won’t come to that. He won’t have to choose because we drew a line in the sand. But that’s the thing about lines in the sand. Eventually, they wash away, and you can’t remember where you drew them.

“You know, I think I have the matching bra somewhere,” I say dryly. “Uh, yeah. Can I, um, get it back?” “No, it’s a souvenir.” “Of what?” she whispers thickly. “Of the time I almost fucked the hottest girl I’ve ever met.”

Something catches the corner of my eye. It’s pink and lacy, slung over the center stick. It takes me a few seconds to realize what it is. Underneath, there’s a note scribbled on the flight log in loopy, girly handwriting. To add to your collection. Shaking my head in disbelief, I fist Aurora’s panties and bring them up to my lips. They are still warm and wet. I inhale deeply, filling my soul with the scent of a girl that will never be mine.

Angelo Visconti isn’t a knight in shining armor, he’s a monster in an Armani suit.

“If you think I’m letting you go back there and be man-handled by that drunken cunt, you must be smoking crack.”

“Rory?” His thumb pad carves a trail over my jawline. It stops at the corner of my mouth, but I turn my head to catch it between my lips. He lets out a soft moan, watching me, eyes half-lidded with lust, as I slowly lick it. “Yes?” Danger sparking in his eyes, he pushes his thumb further into my mouth, and with wetness pooling between my thighs, I open my mouth wider to take him all in. “Out of all my sins, you’re my favorite.”

swear to God, Rory. You better know how to fly, because if you fall, I’m coming with you.”

“Remember how you told me to think like a businessman, not a thug?” I nod. His jaw muscles flex as his eyes drop to my hand pressed flat against his chest. His slips his over mine, fingering the ring on my finger. Then he tugs it off, rough and fast. “What are you—?” The diamond glints against the gloomy sky as he hurls it, hard, over the edge of the cliff. When he looks back at me, his gaze clashes with mine, the word vicious flashing across his eyes like a warning sign. “Sorry, Magpie. I’m a thug through and through.”

“What’s going on?!” I gasp, dizzy from the sudden movement and the feeling of him touching me. “I’m taking what’s mine” “Yours?”

“Yeah. A capo needs a wife. Guess I choose you.”

“I’m old enough to be your father. How does that make you feel?” Heart thumping, I feign boredom. Look up at him through my lashes. “Does that mean I can call you daddy now?”

My belt leaves my slacks with a loud thwap. “I’ll show you exactly what type of man I am, baby.”

Seek hope where the air is salty and the cliffs are steep. That’s what the fortune cookie said. The one I brought from the chick in San Francisco’s Chinatown. It held the exact same fortune that convinced my mom to move here all those years ago. Sure, they are all made in the same factories; a coincidence rather than fate. But it led me to Rory, and I like to think my mom had something to do with that.

“The Angels of Devil’s Dip, back together again. Fuck man, this is all I’ve ever wanted.”

“Shut up, Rory. He left his entire life in England and came back to Devil’s Dip for you. He’s so in love with you that it makes me sick.” “She’s right, I am.”

“What I want, is for you to be happy.”

“Not just regular happy. I mean really fucking happy,” he growls into my mouth, palming my ass to pull me on top of him. “Can’t stop fucking smiling, don’t want to go to sleep because reality is better than your dreams kind of happy. I want to make you so damn happy that you shit sunshine and piss rainbows and people think you’re as high as a kite when you walk into a room.” He nips my lower lip in mild frustration, and his fingers dig deep into the back of my thighs as he slides me up to his groin. “If you want to be mine, I’ll make you that happy, Rory.”

“I’ll show you what it looks like. Now, be a good girl and moan my name while I worship you.”

“You don’t have to do bad things anymore, baby girl. I’ll do them for you.”

“I love you,” I breathe into the placket of his shirt. “I love you so much.” It suddenly occurs to me: it’s ironic that Angelo calls me “Magpie.” Because I’m not attracted to the shiny things, I’m attracted to the darkness. And now, I can feel his darkness radiating against mine, a gentle hum under the surface of his tanned skin. A few moments pass, and then his hand finds the back of my skull, winding itself into my hair and tilting my face to him. “I love you too, baby.”

“You know, my mom always said the good always canceled out the bad.” He swallows, the Adam’s apple bobbing in the trunk of his throat. “But what happens if you’re both bad? Both the same side of the coin?” I graze my nose against his, smiling. “Magic happens, baby.”

“Mama always believed in fate. It was a fortune cookie that brought her to the Coast in the first place, and the exact same fucking fortune brought me back here, too. I thought it was to find the cunt that killed her, but now, I realize it wasn’t. It was to lead me to Rory. This is Mama’s way of telling me she’s here today.”

“You ready to go to war, baby?” A cocktail of lust and adrenaline trickles down my spine. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”