The Sinner's Club [18+] Complete

chapter fourteen.

THE SHRILL RINGING of my phone wakes me.

Blinking blearily, I lean over to my bedside table and wince at the ache deep inside me, between my legs.

It's an unknown number. I hit answer and flop back down onto my pillow.

"Hello?" It is way too early for phone calls.

"Wren, what's wrong?"

I bolt upright, suddenly completely awake. Nathaniel's voice is just about the last thing I was expecting to hear.

"I..." have no words. "Why are you calling me at six AM?" Confusion briefly overshadows my shock.

"I was out all night and wasn't able to have my phone on me. I only just got back to the club and saw that you're sick. What's wrong?"

Is he...worried about me? No, worried about his investment, more likely. How can he collect his debt if I die of pneumonia?

"I'm fine, I was just...I was sick, but now I'm fine..." Lying is not my strong suit. I cringe, scratching my forehead. "It must've been like a twenty-four hour bug. I feel better now."

"Does this have something to do with whoever is threatening you?" He demands.

"No," I sigh, sinking back into bed. "It has nothing to do with that. LIke I said, I was a bit sick. Now I'm not. Don't worry, I'll be at the club tonight. I'm not skipping out on repaying you or anything." I sound far more bitter than I ought to. "No need to send an assassin after me."

"Is that what you think I'm worried about?" He snaps. "The fucking money?"

"What else would it be?" Before I can think about the doors that question opens, it's out of my mouth.

I clutch the phone tighter in my hand, listening to the dead silence on the other end of the line.

"Be here tonight by seven," he bites out after a long moment and then promptly hangs up.

I throw my phone down onto my bed and groan.

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Elodie walks ahead of Reaper and I, her head bent down. She's been quiet the entire day; even her teacher mentioned something when I collected her from school this afternoon.

She's upset I wouldn't let her spend time with her father. I wish I could explain it to her, explain the horrific things he did to our mom and to me before Elodie was even alive and when she was too young to remember. But at the same time, I don't ever want her to know any of it.

Reaper is silent as well, back to his stoic, aloof self. From the way he maintains a foot of distance between us, one would never know he was fucking me deep with his fingers in my mouth less than twenty-four hours ago.

When we reach our apartment building, he opts to wait out with his car, telling me he'll drive me to the club when I'm ready in a gruff voice.

I take Elodie up and spend the afternoon with her, drawing and reading and coaxing her out of her self-imposed shell of misery.

By the time Miss Magnolia arrives, my sister is almost back to her normal self.

The walk across the darkened footpath to where Reaper waits by his car for me is long because I feel like he is both devouring me and enshrining me in ice with his glare.

He pulls open the passenger side door for me without a word and I slide inside.

After about five minutes of driving in dead silence, I can't take it anymore.