The Mission (Clairmont Series Novel Book 2) by L.J. Wilson

Author:L.J. Wilson [Wilson, L.J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: AB Edge
Published: 2016-05-16T18:30:00+00:00

It was done.

It was long over.

It had barely happened.

These had been the thoughts Sebastian repeated over an ocean and more recently as he was shuttled onto an airplane bound for the States. Upon arrival at the cabin, Brother Ott had left him at the door with a lantern, a note from Reverend Kane, and more freedom than he’d ever been allowed in Good Hope. The note said to come to the fellowship hall if he wanted to eat. He hadn’t eaten since the day before. But his stomach had quieted on arrival, filling with an ache that crushed emptiness. It was there the second Sebastian saw Evie. Evie and a baby. At first he had no intention of going to any fellowship hall; surely he wouldn’t be missed. He’d eat tree bark or squirrel. He’d starve. He crumpled the note and threw it at the cold fireplace.

A rising moon shone outside the cabin window. Thinking of Evie had been one thing. Reality was too much—or so he realized as old wounds split wide, bleeding out at the sight of her. On the ride from the airport, Sebastian convinced himself that avoiding Evie was the best way to handle the situation—he’d only be in Good Hope a few days. Sebastian snickered, his head bowing to the moon. Avoid her? How fucking stupid. How about having to face Evie and the crying baby attached to her hip? “Maybe the good Reverend does have divine insight to punishment,” he said to the moon.

Sebastian turned away from the window. In front of him was his former prison—hell, clearly it still was. He opened the leather duffel bag and dumped its contents onto the bed. Touching a clean T-shirt, he could think of nothing but the day Evie had turned up there, the fear and wonder in her face. He could still feel it. Those same fears had collapsed days later, igniting into binding heated passion. Now, looking at the fireless hearth, Sebastian knew he needed to bury his feelings with the rest of the spent ashes.

He headed into the bathroom and took out the mirror, which was precisely where he’d left it. He stared into his tanned, seaworthy face, and a full beard. “She’s probably forgotten it happened… or is just damn sorry it did.”

Enough. This wasn’t him. “To hell with her,” he muttered.

Sebastian pressed his arms into the cool, ceramic sink, his lips pursing. He didn’t mean that. He wished her nothing bad. Not even her fair-haired boy of a husband who’d spent his first sail south with his head hung overboard. Thankfully, it was a large ship and Sebastian stayed with the crew. It had allowed him to steer clear of Ezra as well as the brothers that sometimes made the journey.

Staring at his bearded reflection, Sebastian was pissed off to find himself still stuck in this mess—the Reverend’s web. But if his plans worked out, things would soon change. Keeping that end game in mind, he got out a razor. If he wanted to eat—and Sebastian decided he did—basic needs were a priority.

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