Sinners & Saints (Sinners & Saints #1) (2 page)

“You like your room?”

I jump and turn around and see the
person with the voice who startled me. It’s her. The girl from the funeral with
the rose colored lips. I open my mouth but nothing is coming out. I’m rendered
speechless. She looks me up and down, studying me carefully. She has this
calmness that comes out of her. She seems like a girl of no worries and I am
envious of that. Her confidence is at a high level too. She knows she’s sexy.
God, is she sexy and as a fifteen-year-old boy, well my Johnson has already
fallen madly in love with her.

“Does it speak?”
My Johnson?
She had her eyes on it for a split second. I swear it
on my now dead brother’s grave.

“Yes!” I yell too loudly, getting my
mind out the gutter. “I mean,” I clear my throat. “Yes, it does
—
I mean, I do speak and yes I do like the
room.”

“Yeah, I always loved it in here.” She
looks around, a sly grin on her face before walking away. I follow her out and
take up space on the red Victorian couch that is located on the other side of
the room from the bed. I try very hard not to stare at her legs. I love legs,
next to breasts they’re one of my favorite body parts of the female body. She
looks me up and down again and I hope to God my face isn’t red.

“You really do look like him,” she says
softly. “Gabriel. August, of course, given he is your twin brother, but you look
a lot like Gabriel. The way you stand and that nervous look on your face.” Her
tone is serious but slightly amused.

“Is that a good thing?” I ask.

“Yes. You’re quite handsome, just like
he was.”

 
“Were you Gabriel’s friend?”

“Yeah. Something like that.”

“What do you mean?” I press for more
detail. “Were you his girlfriend?”

She giggles in this sexy cool way. God!
Everything about her screams sex.

“Oh, no. I was not that.” She gets up
and walks toward the vintage brown writing desk against the wall. She opens up
the top drawer and reaches in, pulling a bottle of whiskey
—
I think
—
out of it. “Gabriel didn’t have girlfriends. Want a drink?”

“Uh, yeah sure.”

She takes a swig out of the bottle
before handing it to me. The fact that I am coming close to feeling the touch
of her lips by this bottle is exhilarating. I press my lips against the bottle.
Closing my eyes, savoring the warmth her lips left, I drink the burning flavored
liquid that causes me to cough.

“You don’t drink much, do you?” The
question sounds more like a statement as she watches me, amused by my reaction.

“No, not really. I mean we snuck some
stuff at the school, but I didn’t really drink like that.”

“That’s cute.”

She bites her lip and looks me up and
down again, except less observant and more flirtatious curiosity.

“You’re fifteen?” she asks, her eyes
squinting a little.

“Yeah. I’ll be sixteen next year in
July.” Like that is any better. It’s clear that Scarlett is much older than me.

“I just turned eighteen.”

“Happy belated birthday,” I say with
enthusiasm. I sound like a spaz.

“Thank you.” Unexpectedly, she kisses me
on the cheek. I flinch on the inside as her soft lips brush against my skin. Pulling
away, she just stares at me. Her eyes glisten and it’s like she sees inside my
soul. She passes me back the whiskey bottle and stands up.

“Well, I have to go out of town tonight.
I’m going to Rome for two weeks.” My heart drops at this sudden announcement. “So,
I guess I’ll see you when I get back.” I’m depressed. I don’t want her to go
anywhere. I just found her.

“Yeah.” I try to act unbothered,
shrugging it off.

“I look forward to returning back here,
Hugo.” She gives me one last smile before leaving out.

“Hey,” I stop her, suddenly remembering.
“What’s your name?”

“Scarlett. Scarlett Brayson.” She
doesn’t look back, just answers and leaves me in my puddle of overwhelm.

She just woke me up. One look from her
sultry eyes, one word from her tempting mouth, one touch from her painted lips
woke something in me that I’ve only heard of. A man’s true carnal desire, as my
grandfather once put it, when it came to women. He stated that once in a while
a man would embark on a woman whom he so desperately needs to have and obtain
that his body will scream in agony for her. My body was howling for Scarlett.

SCARLETT

When they’re that impressionable, you
should always leave them waiting and wanting. It’s the oldest trick in the
book. Everyone thinks I have some sort of huge philosophy when it comes to my
bullshit, but it’s the simple things. You just have to have confidence while
not being too overly confident. Maybe I’m not making sense, but of course if
you’re not like me, you won’t get it.
 

           
“What
are you doing, Scarlett?” Noel appears downstairs from Hugo and August’s rooms.

           
“What
do you want, Noel?” I keep walking past him.

           
“I
want out of this fucked up group of people.”

           
“Well,
no one is forcing you to stay.” I turn around and face him once we reach my
room. “Oops. Sorry, your trailer park bayou gold digging mommy is.”

           
“Not
anymore,” he says adamantly. “My uncle is letting me stay with him. My mother
agreed without a fuss, obviously due to recent events.”

           
“Oh,
well.” I shrug and notice the disappointment in his eyes. “God, don’t tell me
you expected me to become sad over your upcoming departure?”

           
He
grunts in amusement. “You really don’t feel anything for anyone, do you?”

           
“I
felt something for Gabriel.”

           
“Yes,
but even he failed you.” He raises his hands mocking me. “Who now could ever
measure up to your wonderful Gabriel?”

           
“I
don’t know.” I tilt my head in wonder. “Little brother Hugo might be able to
step up to the task.”

           
Noel
steps closer to me, his eyes penetrating my smug grin. “Don’t do it, Scarlett.
Don’t ruin that kid’s life like you did ours… like you did Gabriel’s.”

           
“I
didn’t ruin your life. You are just a crybaby mama’s boy who can’t stand up for
himself. And Gabriel? He ruined his life. He got weak.”

           
“All
because he felt guilty?” He looks at me with disgust. “Jesus Christ, Scarlett!
How can you not feel guilty?! For all of it! What we did was…” His eyes start
to tear up. His voice becomes calm. “What we did was terrible. We fucked up.”

           
“No,”
I shake my head and point my index finger at him. “You fucked up. Gabriel
fucked up. Chad always fucks up, but at least he owns up to his irrational
behavior along with his sadistic tendencies.”

           
“You
are a cold-hearted bitch.”

           
I
come closer to him, matching his stance. “Yes, I am and don’t you forget that
this cold-hearted bitch has everything on you. So go ahead, move on with your
life. Reform yourself, but if you say one word, I will make it my personal
mission to destroy you. I will let everyone know what you did.”

           
“Don’t
worry, I want to forget about everything that went on here as much as Gabriel
did.”

           
“Oh,
then do please grab a revolver and blow the memories away.” I twirl my hand and
fingers up like a splash of water in his face.

           
He
shakes his head. “What if he’s too noble for you, Scarlett? His little brother
—
what if he’s nothing like Gabriel?”

           
I
arch my brow at him, grinning. I lean up and press my lips firmly against his.
One last kiss for the road. Noel is replaceable, but I will miss that
effervescent tongue of his. Quick note, mama’s boys are good at oral sex. His
breath quickens and his pulse races. It never matters how many times they call
me a bitch or what they threaten me with. They are all still madly in love with
me.

           
I
whisper against his lips, staring up his contorted face, combing my fingers
through his light brown, wavy hair. “Aphra Behn once said that there is no
sinner like a young saint. You know why? Because the younger they are… the more
curious… and stupid. I learned that by turning you out.” I pull back and head
over to my Louie Vuitton luggage that had already been placed on my bed by
Luisa the maid. “No one is too noble for me, Noel. Now, if you don’t mind, I
need to pack.”

           
 
“Have a nice life, Scarlett.” I hear his
teeth grinding.

           
 
“You too.” Without looking, I wave my
hand as he walks out.

HUGO

It has been the longest two weeks of my
life. Scarlett was gone and I think she took my balls and my dignity with her.
Then again maybe they’re one in the same when it comes to being a guy. I miss
her. I miss her so much that I feel sick to my stomach sometimes thinking about
it.

 
“Hugo, are you feeling alright?” Ms.
Eleanor asks me during dinner.

“Yes, mam.”

“You haven’t eaten anything. Do you want
me to ask Chef to fix something else?”

I shake my head. “I’m fine. It’s just
everything.”

“Of course, darling. In due time it will
get bearable. The wind always blows.” I never get what Ms. Eleanor means. Is
she forcing herself to come up with wisdom or is that her natural thing? All I
know is that she wears colorful clothes and loves Bloody Mary’s. Her hair is
bright ginger with grey mixed on the sides and the front bang. She wears a lot
of old jewelry, including two of her wedding rings from past marriages. None of
them match along with her clothes and hell her home. Her furniture comes from
different designers and different time periods. I kind of like it, how
disproportioned she is in every way. She’s still a beautiful woman at
sixty-three.

“Hugo didn’t eat. I’m not
–
I’m not gonna eat,” my brother August declares, scratching
the back of his head with his shoulders hunched.

“No, it’s good, August. Eat,” I say to
him. Slowly he picks up his fork and begins picking at his food trying to
figure out where he should start first. He always eats in a pattern. He never
moves on to the next portion in a dish until the other is finished. He doesn’t
believe in moving on to something before finishing the other, no matter if it’s
with food or with one of the mazes he always draws. He won’t be right until he
finishes what he started.

My brother also doesn’t like when his
food touches. This fucktard, Chad Michelson, obviously finds it funny. He takes
his fork and moves the mashed potatoes on August’s plate over the steak.
August’s eyes enlarge. Cue to the panic.

“Arghhhh!” He drops his fork and moans
in agony at the ruin in front of him.

“Why’d you do that?” I lean up in my
seat, glowering at the flagrant Chad.

He smiles at me, sniffing his nose and
clearing his throat. “Because your brother is a retard and I like to fuck with
him.”

I push up from my seat, the chair
knocking down. I grip the edge of the table, ready to launch myself over it and
beat the living shit out of him.

“Chad!” Ms. Eleanor snaps.

Chad wipes the corner of his mouth with
the black dinner napkin and stands up from his seat. “I’m full. I think I’ll
retire to my room now.”

“I’m calling your father tomorrow to
give him a report about this,” Ms. Eleanor threatens him, but he isn’t fazed by
it. “I’m so sorry, Hugo,” she apologizes as I go to my brother to comfort him.
I begin rubbing his head, combing my fingers through his hair. It always seems
to calm him down. With the palm of his hand he begins hitting his forehead. I
grab his wrist and force it down on the table.

“Stop it! It’s okay,” I say and he
begins to cry.