Sinclair

Chapter Sixty-One: Under Sinclair's Skin

Mom and Odin both show up at my house the next morning. She got my text from last night saying I was feeling better and the two of them wasted no time coming straight over.

As I'm inviting them inside, I look over at Odin. "Aren't you supposed to be at school? It's Wednesday."

He gives me this big, wide, too innocent look. "I wanted to be completely sure you were feeling better."

I roll my eyes and bring the giant pot of soup Mom cooked over to the fridge.

"It would have been more helpful if you would've let me bring it to you when you first got sick," she complains, frowning.

I turn my back on them to put the soup away, and to hide my face. I may have been the one responsible for coming up with alibis for the Iron Order and I've had my run in with lying straight-faced to the police every now and then, but lying to my Mom is a different story. It's like the woman can see straight into my soul. No matter how convincing I feel like I am, it just doesn't work on her.

"I didn't want either of you to get sick."

By now, Odin has headed over to my living room and is sifting through Netflix's catalogue. When I see Mom cut a look at him to make sure he's not paying attention, I know I'm in for a world of worried prodding.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

I suck in a breath. "Yeah," I finally say.

She looks like she doesn't fully believe me, but she just sighs and nods her head.

"Freyja, I know you're a grown woman now and none of what's going on in your personal life is any of my business anymore, but I want you to be careful. I had the opportunity to talk to Sinclair a lot since you've been sick—" when her mouth twists, I know she doesn't buy Sinclair's lie at all— "and I know he's a...decent man. He cares about you, at least, and that's all that matters to me. But he's still...who he is. And there's no amount of love that can change that."

I know that. It was one of my many justification for why we could never work out. Sinclair was, is, and will always be the Sinnerman, the leader of the Iron Order. The face of a known motorcycle gangs with deep roots in society's underworld. It's all he knows and, despite everything, the Iron Order gave family to him when he was a boy who lost his.

I swallow hard and smile. "Why are we having this conversation?"

Mom fixes me with her don't-treat-me-like-an-idiot look. "I'm a lot of things, Freyja, but I'm neither blind nor a fool. Anyone can see where things between the two of you are going if they haven't gotten there already. I'm not saying you shouldn't be together. I don't have any right to make that choice. But I'm telling you to be careful."

I can't think of a response to her words, and luckily, I don't have to. Her phone starts going off and she excuses herself to talk to her caller—Professor Broham—outside on my porch.

Odin, who's been pretending not to listen this whole time, mutes the volume of his chosen show and turns to look at me.

"Are you really dating the Sinnerman?"

I put my elbows on the counter, prop my face up in my hands and glare at him.

"Why is everyone assuming we're dating. We're not."

Technically. We've never officially decided to be together. More due to my shortcomings rather than his, but that's neither here nor there. No one needed to know about that.

"You know Patricia came up to Mom this morning and told her everything. She saw you and Sinclair together at the grocery store last night."

I roll my eyes. So, she went to Mom hoping to fish out something else she could gossip about from her. Patricia is a long time sometimes friend of my mother's back when she lived in Willow's Creek. But these days Mom lives closer to Red Lake County for her job. It seems ridiculous to imagine someone being so nosy, they'd be willing to drive thirty minutes out just to pretend to run into someone and question them about their daughter's dating life, but if anyone would do that, it's Patricia.