Sins of the Father excerpt! 1500 words (Patreon)

Got something new for you guys. I've been kicking this story around for years...it has been rewritten multiple times. I'm not sure when it will be finished. It won't come out until after the two Bound Gods and The Darkest Hour (Jeff's Story). But it is on the back burner...if you want to ask any questions about it, I'll be glad to answer as long as it doesn't involve spoilers! 

This is the long excerpt. A shortened version will go out in my newsletter tonight (or tomorrow depending on when Sharon can get it done)

Remember not to share, and it hasn't been edited in any way

Sunlight cut squares on the wall. Drab paint, a narrow bed, stained ceiling.

This was not the hotel.

And Aiden knew why.

He sat up. The muscles in his shoulders protested, his pulse beat against his face. He touched his swollen lip, then an equally swollen eye. A knot sprouted just above his forehead.

He rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

The couch was empty. The kitchen. The bathroom.

Maybe Dorian had gone out?

A knot formed in Aiden’s stomach. He forced himself from the folds of the warm quilt and hit the bathroom. On his way back out, a piece of notebook paper caught the draft from the door being opened back up.

Aiden picked it up.

I should be back in a few hours. There is food in the fridge, help yourself.

Please stay inside.

Dorian

Aiden left the note on the dinky bed with its sagging mattress and dressed. He picked up the gun, slipped in the clip, and checked to make sure the safety was on before carrying it with him into the kitchen.

Milk, eggs, fruit in the fridge. A few boxes of cereal. He took out a bowl and grabbed a box of cornflakes.

The knot in his stomach tightened.

Vibrations teased the soles of Aiden’s feet, a steady thump, thump falling in time with how a person would walk.

He picked up the gun and moved to the dividing wall where the phone hung. A shadow passed behind the curtain over the window in the door. The deadbolt turned. Dorian stepped inside. Aiden put the gun behind his back.

Three butterfly stitches held a cut together above Dorian’s left eye. A bruise flowered on the opposite cheek. Wrinkles marked up his clericals. Tears in his slacks slipped wide, flashing prosthetics.

Prosthetics.

Sometimes the priest had walked with a slight hitch, but Aiden had no idea he’d lost his legs from the knees down. [MOU1]

Aiden tucked the gun back under his pillow and picked up the paper and pen.

Dorian remained by the small kitchen table, gripping the back of one of the chairs with enough force to turn his knuckles white.

Aiden walked over. He set the paper and pen on the table before stepping in front of Dorian and putting a hand on his cheek.

Dorian started to turn his head but Aiden held him with both hands and forced the man to look at him.

Aiden picked up the pad and pen and wrote, What happened to you? Aiden showed it to Dorian.

He furrowed his brow for a moment.

Aiden pointed to the place above his eyebrow on the same side where the stitches were on Dorian’s forehead.

“I…” He touched the cut and winced. “I went to find Kovak. I figured if he’d been hurt, they’d take him to City Central.”

They had the best trauma unit in the city, so it made sense.

Dorian ran a hand through his hair. “But the police were waiting. They arrested me.”

Aiden scribbled on the pad. Why?

“They thought I was one of ***’s men sent there to make sure Kovak didn’t walk out.”

If the circumstances had been different, Aiden might have laughed. Anyone with any intuition wouldn’t mistake Dorian for a killer. Aiden wouldn’t have been surprised if he captured houseflies and released them back outside rather than killing them.

But in Aiden’s experience, the cops often saw what they wanted to see in a person.

A stripper rather than a mother trying to raise three kids on her own.

A shoplifter, not a jobless father desperate to get his kid the one thing they wanted for Christmas.

A deaf whore rather than a man who had friends and family.

Are you okay?

“Yeah, I’m okay, a little bruised but okay.”

Kovak?

Everything was right there in Dorian’s eyes in the form of shadows, highlights, how the crow’s feet in the corner deepened, how his skin paled under the flush of his cheeks.

Pain. Loss. Sadness.

But not for himself.

Aiden’s throat tightened, two sharp points of pain spread under his jaw. His eyes burned. The world fractured.

Dorian wiped away the tears as they spilled over Aiden’s cheeks.

“I’m sorry.”

Aiden couldn’t hear the words but the guilt in Dorian’s broken tone played against his fingertips.

“He was gone before I got there.”

So he’d died alone and in pain, somewhere in that hotel or in an ambulance.

The first sob ripped the air from Aiden’s lungs and the pen and paper fell to the floor. Strong hands kept him from following it.

Aiden was pushed into a chair.

Dorian knelt at his feet, holding both hands in his. For a moment, he kept his head bowed as if praying. When he lifted his head up, he pressed his lips to Aiden’s knuckles, lips lingering as if pleading. He spoke against Aiden’s hands, masking what he said. But whatever it was brought tears to Dorian’s eyes. He blinked them away before they could fall.

Aiden wasn’t as strong and his broken cries grated his throat.

Kovak was gone.

The one person who’d cared for him protected him and died to save him. Kovak could have left Aiden in the hotel room. Now Aiden couldn’t help but ask if the price of survival had been worth it.

Because it wasn’t just Aiden who’d lost those things. It was a dozen young men who’d worked for Kovak and relied on him.

There was no telling who would swoop in and try to take over. And Aiden knew for a fact they would never have the honor Kovak had.

They’d simply work those young men into the ground and leave them in a gutter to die.

The light coming through the window in the door vanished under the slide of shadow. Dorian looked up and so did Aiden, just as the door knob turned.

On reflex, Aiden was on his feet and diving for the small bed. He shoved his hand under the pillow and rolled to his side, bringing the gun up while flipping the safety off with his thumb.

Nice suit, wearing an under-the-shoulder holster, the man was giant next to Dorian. Dark skin, darker eyes, shaved head. He could have belonged to any of the crime families in the area, but the air around him screamed police.

Dorian waved his arms and stepped in front of the stranger yelling at him while blocking Aiden’s shot.

The stranger’s lips moved. “…you were taking too long.”

Aiden lowered his gun.

Dorian turned.

Rage replaced the pain of loss and Aide shoved himself to his feet. “You brought him here. A cop?” The words were only a vibration on Aiden’s tongue, but both men looked at him. “Why? Why would you do that?”

The stranger lifted his hands, and Aiden inched the gun higher. In slow, deliberate movements, he showed Aiden his empty palms then carved out words in the air while speaking. “I didn’t give him a choice.”

Dorian dropped his gaze.

“Who…” Aiden lost the word when he clenched his teeth to keep from screaming at Dorian. How could he? How dare he.

“My name is Mitch ***. I’m not a cop—”

“Liar.” Aiden shoved the word out with enough force to send specks of light into his field of vision.

“I’m FBI.”

He wasn’t local but that didn’t mean someone didn’t have him on the payroll.[MOU2]

“Kovak was my informant,” Mitch said it again but only with his hands.

Aiden shook his head.

“Kovak told me people would come looking for you.”

Aiden’s breath shuddered.

“He knew it was only a matter of time and I promised to help.”

Again Aiden shook his head. Kovak would never trust anyone in law enforcement. Just like he never trusted any of the mafia families in the area.

Trust made men sloppy.

Trust got men killed.

Dorian walked over. “Please, put the gun down.” He stopped in front of Aiden. “Please, he’s here to help.”

Aiden glared at Dorian. How could this man be so naïve? Then again, he was a priest, had been a priest. He didn’t know anything about the world Kovak lived in. Believing the police were allies was proof of just how little Dorian understood.

Yet, for some unknown reason, Aiden lowered the gun.

Dorian reached for it and Aiden pulled away. He flipped on the safety and tucked it in the waist of his jeans.

“I was going to tell you. He was supposed to wait downstairs. Please, Aiden, the people who killed Kovak are looking for you.”

Aiden furrowed his brow. He mouthed the word, Why?

Dorian glanced back at Mitch. This time when the agent signed, he didn’t talk aloud. You have something they want,

Like what?

A passcode to some sort of data account.

[MOU1] Dorian put a hand on the back of one of the kitchen chairs. Weariness creased the corners of his eyes. He pushed back his hair, opened his mouth, then closed it.

Pain. Loss. Sadness.

But not for himself.

[MOU2]Ink containing a filter that only allows a narrow range of light to cause it to fluoresce.