Sin & Suffer

“But, Art …,” Cleo said.

I held up my hand, silencing her. She didn’t know the full story yet. Patience was always a virtue in these situations.

Wallstreet nodded as Grasshopper reluctantly slipped off his cut and yanked on the one labeled prez. He’d have to stitch over my name but it was official.

I was no longer a president. Just like that.

Grasshopper swallowed. “The position is yours, Kill. I’m content to remain your VP—”

“No, he can’t,” Wallstreet interrupted. “Kill can no longer be seen to be associated with this Club.”

“Why the hell not?” Cleo snarled. She moved forward, anger and unhappiness painting her face. I loved that she was pissed on my behalf, but this wasn’t a betrayal.

This was a favor.

“Because the next part of my life can’t mix underworld with glossy pages of newspapers.” I smiled. “I can’t be president and politician.”

How could I let her see that this was the sacrifice I was willing to make to ensure I found happiness? The Club had given me everything I needed: revenge and a home. But I’d made an oath when I was a kid and made Wallstreet promise the same.

I’d made him swear that if I did this for him, then he would do something for me.

I would run his Club. I would be his leader in his stead but when he was free, I wanted out. I’d been born into this lifestyle. But I didn’t intend to die in it.

I had too much more to experience to stay in one role forever.

That had been the final seal on our bargain: Wallstreet wanted a stand-in … I wanted a ready-made army. We both had higher goals that required sacrifices, both wanted the same thing.

Cleo’s eyes burned into me but I didn’t look at her. I would cherish and protect her. I would keep her in my heart always. But it was time for a change. It was time for something more.

“You’ll still see a lot of Kill,” Wallstreet said, smoothing ruffled feathers and concluding his upheaving speech. “He’s forever welcome in our homes, our hearts, our Club. He will always be a Pure, but privately not publically. We’re family and will always be family, just like Cleo will forever be one of us, too.” Wallstreet glanced at Cleo’s jacket. She’d slipped it on after we’d sneaked away. “You wear our emblem and oath, Ms. Price. I would never take that allegiance or home away from you. I know your past. I know the loneliness of being stripped of friends and love.” He placed his hand on his heart. “You have my ultimate word your ranking within Pure Corruption will not change. Killian will always be respected and listened to but from now on, we will no longer call him prez … with time and luck we’ll hopefully be calling him senator and he’ll be ruler to thousands.”

The gruffness and authority in his tone melted into love and pride. “Kill will give others what he’s given us. And that is a fucking hero in my book.” Opening his arms, he embraced me like a son and friend.

I hugged him back, feeling the weight of the past eight years fizzing away with every heartbeat. This was what I’d been searching for.

I knew the goals of becoming a true senator would be hard—if not impossible. Every aspect of my past would be used against me. The newspapers would have a fucking lifetime of ammunition with my background—but it wouldn’t stop me from trying. I didn’t need the title to become a leader in politics.

I liked the unknown—the upcoming trials.

One challenge defeated and another new to conquer.

Freedom.

Power.

A blank slate where the past no longer dictated my future and a present where I could be eternally happy.

“You gave me back my will to live, Cyrus.”

He kissed my cheek. “You gave me an empire in return.”

We broke apart, clasping hands like equals. We were no longer mentor and student.

We were family.

And that was all I ever fucking wanted.

Epilogue

Cleo

One year later …

For a long time, I was a stranger to my life, my past, my family.

But now I was home. I’d found peace. I’d found joy.

Arthur was finally mine—like I always known he would be. We were happy—like I’d always known we could be. And we were safe—like I’d always hoped.

Our scars were still healing, our futures still evolving. But we were together and that was all that mattered. —Cleo, today

Life had a way of tearing someone apart before granting their utmost dreams.

The tribulations we had endured in order to be triumphant made everything so much brighter, intense, and precious.

So damn precious.

Sitting up in bed, I looked over at the man who held my heart.

My heart fisted and leapt like it did every morning. It was so easy to forget his radiant force when sleep carried us off into different worlds. But every time I woke in his arms, I was reminded of his dangerous power. His immense force of will.

No wonder he’d had such success in front of the cameras.

No wonder people flocked to him and listened—truly listened—to his ideals and suggestions.

With reverent fingers, I brushed aside the inky strands of hair from his cheek. Twelve months had wiped away lines that’d graced his eyes and washed away the stress from his face.

Being cast from the lifestyle we’d always known turned out to be the best thing that’d ever happened to us.

Not only did we visit Pure Corruption regularly, but I’d also become best friends with Melanie and Molly. Only a few days would go by without me seeing them, and our phones would ring constantly—asking Arthur’s opinion, shooting the breeze, and generally being the best family I’d ever had.