Page 11 of Sinful King
Oisin meant little deer.
My grandfather had one tattooed on his back as did my father. And when I turned twenty-one, the same would be inked into my skin to keep the tradition going.
Deer symbolized longevity, the makings of a solid empire, criminal or otherwise. My brothers and I shared the name for a reason.
“I’m grateful for you,” I muttered into her ear as this undeniable feeling spread throughout my chest. “In any capacity I’m allowed to have you, beautiful goddess.”
Blair was right.
We were too fucking young to feel this way.
FIVE
blair
“Why’dyou force my hand, Amoy?”
I’d gotten good at pretending to be sleep as a kid. Sometimes Sean caught on, but last night he’d been tired. I heard the exhaustion in his voice.
Felt it in my bones as if we were one.
When he fell asleep, I savored his skin against mine for as long as I could keep myself awake.
I missed him so much it ached; we’d been so busy lately, hardly able to talk or see one another. Something told me he felt like I did this because of that, for his attention. I hadn’t.
Rolling over onto my stomach, I rested my head inside my arms and stared at the empty space beside me.
It was morning now and Sean had left without waking me or saying a word other than his question from last night.
But since he assumed I was sleep, it didn’t count.
He’d gotten his fill then went on his way, leaving me with a heavy heart.
The silent treatment would hurt but I had to endure. I had to stay the course, for myself and him.
“Hellooooo! Blair? Are you awake yet?”
I scrambled into a sitting position and frowned.
Was I allowed guest now?
Yesterday, Sean’s security had turned away anyone who wanted to see me, including Esi.
My mother entered my room a second later, her gaze bouncing around before landing on me.
“I’ve been here for an hour and you’re still in this bed,” she fussed, pressing a button on the mounted power pad to lift my blinds. “We have an appointment on the books and its nonnegotiable. I need you dressed and ready to leave in an hour.”
He sent my mother to deal with me.
“Ma, have you talked to Sean?”
She stopped short of walking into my closet and turned to look at me over her shoulder.
“I have. Why?”
I frowned.
“Are you mad at me, too?”
