Sinner's Creed (Sinner's Creed #1)(96)

“What’s up, beautiful?” I ask, and her eyes sparkle at my words. I’ve told her she was beautiful many times, but I’ve never addressed her as if her name defined the word. Maybe I should have.

“Um.” Saylor smiles, forgetting what she was going to say. Her cheeks redden and she laughs, still stunned by my words. “I was wondering if I could borrow you a minute. You see, it seems that I have to pee.” I give her my best smile, and I know if she could, she would reach out and touch me. So I take her hand and put it on my cheek.

“You know me too well,” she says so only I can hear. I kiss her palm and shoot her a wink, then scoop her in my arms and lift her over the couch. “Well that was subtle.” She laughs, her head falling back as I carry her down the hall.

This is something I’ve delighted in, carrying her in my arms, and something she enjoys too. After all we’ve been through, there is no more room for embarrassment or shame. I just do what has to be done and she lets me. There is no sacrifice on my part when it comes to her. It’s my duty, and one I enjoy doing.

I deposit her back on the couch with a thud and Donnawayne frowns at me, but Saylor laughs.

“Oh, don’t be so serious, hon. I’m sure if you asked nicely he would do the same to you,” she tells him and everyone laughs. Everyone but me, of course.

I grab the popcorn, then lay on the couch between Saylor’s legs and place her hand in my hair where I know she wants it. I hear the click of the camera and I look over to find Carrie snapping a picture of the two of us together. Soon, we are all piled on the couch and since I have the longest arms, I’m instructed to take the picture. It takes three tries but, eventually, the selfie is approved by Saylor.

Later that evening, I look out at the scattered bodies that cover the mattresses on my living room floor while Saylor painstakingly writes in her diary. She and I are on the couch, and on the floor next to us lay Donnawayne, Jeffery, Carrie, Rookie, and Shady, on the end.

I wish there were more days like this, but I doubt there would be. It was a special day, for a special girl, and although she was deserving of more days like this, men like me and my brothers were lucky beyond measure to just experience one.

It was no secret that I believed in God, and it was no secret that I didn’t deem myself worthy of his love. But tonight, I tell him the words Saylor has longed for me to say. I tell him I know he exists because I see him in the eyes and feel him in the heart of my love. I tell him I’m sorry for all the things I’ve done and the people I’ve hurt. And then I thank him for giving me the gift of life. It didn’t happen when I was born, it happened the day I met her. And even if this was the last day I had, it was way more than I ever deserved.

Before I fell asleep that night, I told Saylor I loved her. And she told me back. And then she smiled at me, closing her left eye on a wink. It was the perfect ending to a perfect day for me, and a perfect ending to a beautiful life for Saylor Samson.





28


WE BURIED SAYLOR the following Sunday. I arranged to have the service in the evening, just as the sun was setting in the Nevada sky. The funeral was small with only our closest friends present.

Hardly anyone spoke, but there was no silence. I could hear Saylor all around me. I could hear her laughter in the birds that nested in the trees surrounding her grave. I could feel her in the wind that carried the slightest scent of citrus from a source I had yet to find. She was everywhere.

Before I met Saylor, I felt empty inside. I was surrounded by nothing but hate, greed, and power. I never missed her, because I never knew she existed. But now that I’ve had her and she is gone forever from my life, the emptiness is back, and it’s worse.

I’m void of any emotion. Nothing exists inside me. I feel no pain, no fear, no anger . . . nothing. It’s like I’m just here being a waste of space and sucking up air that could be better used by anybody other than me.

Yesterday, after the last shovel of dirt was placed on her grave, I wondered how I would move on. Saylor once told me that I was her reason and now that she had me, she wasn’t needed in this life anymore. So, if I was her purpose and she was mine, then why in the hell was I still here?

I can’t keep the saying the good die young from invading my thoughts. If that’s the case, I’ll live forever. But what is worse? Living a life here on earth without her, or living an eternity in hell without her? It didn’t matter. I knew my fate, and it was well deserved.

—

“We delivered Cyrus’s daughter back to him this morning,” Shady tells me Monday afternoon.

We’re sitting on the couch—the last place I held Saylor in my arms. Shady hasn’t let me out of his sight since the funeral. I know he is worried about me, but I couldn’t offer him any reassurance that I’m okay. Because I’m not.

“That’s good,” I mumble, my thumbs rubbing over the leather-bound diary that was Saylor’s most prized possession.

“Dirk . . .” Shady runs his hand through his hair. I know what’s coming, and somehow I find the strength to help ease my brother’s turmoil.

“I know, Shady. I know.” My impending doom was quickly approaching. And I’d never welcomed death more than now. I couldn’t feel like this any longer. Maybe there wasn’t an afterlife for people like me. Maybe hell was just a myth. Could I be that lucky?