The Rebirth of Sin (Wicked Trinity Book 2) Read online

  Contents

  THE REBIRTH OF SIN

  COPYRIGHT

  DEAR READER

  PROLOGUE

  PART ONE

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  TEN

  ELEVEN

  TWELVE

  THIRTEEN

  FOURTEEN

  FIFTEEN

  SIXTEEN

  SEVENTEEN

  PART TWO

  EIGHTEEN

  NINETEEN

  TWENTY

  TWENTY-ONE

  TWENTY-TWO

  TWENTY-THREE

  TWENTY-FOUR

  TWENTY-FIVE

  TWENTY-SIX

  PART THREE

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  TWENTY-NINE

  THIRTY

  GRATITUDE

  Acknowledgements

  The Rebirth of Sin (Wicked Trinity #2)

  Copyright © 2016 by Courtney Lane

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review or scholarly journal.

  This is licensed for your personal use only. Sharing, copying, reselling, or redistributing is strictly prohibited. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, download it through a legal lending service, receive a copy directly from the author, or receive it as a gift through an approved vendor, please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the author and enabling them to continue to publish their works.

  Editors:

  K. Switz

  Silla Webb

  http://alphaqueensbookobsession.blogspot.com/p/formatting-and-editing-services.html

  Cover Artist:

  Courtney Lane

  This work of fiction contains themes that some may find offensive. If you are not a fan of erotic, dark, twisted, and dimensional stories, this story may not appeal to you—it also deals with mental health issues, nonconsensual sadomasochism, abuse, murder, sexual assault, and the like.

  Please note that this book is a work of fiction and is only meant for entertainment purposes. It is not meant to be a manual for relationships, condone the activities portrayed, nor serve as inspirational literature for any of the topics listed here, or contained within.

  Thank you for reading.

  Courtney Lane, Author

  http://facebook.com/AuthorCourtneyLane

  http://twitter.com/AuthorLane

  http://redcherrypunch.com

  Noah

  “Reven was just a man who believed his own hype… He became the man Noah scripted him to be in order to make Rebirth a success. Nothing more. Nothing less.”

  -THE SECT

  “I just don’t get it.” Nadine kicked up her feet on the dash of the car Mrs. Sherman loaned to me and chewed her gum with an open mouth. “Why do we need him? You’re charming when you want to be. We could do this with just us.”

  “I thought I explained this to you.” I reached across the dash and pushed her feet off. “Things like this never last, and if it doesn’t, I need someone to take the fall.”

  “Yeah, right,” she said with a chuckle. “You want your brother to die so you can get the money he’ll leave when he’s dead. As long as him dying doesn’t mean we can’t keep this thing going—especially if it will make the money you say it will—I’m all for it.”

  “Are you still with me on this?”

  “I don’t know why I’d need to do this. If he’s as full of himself as you say he is, he’d come all over himself to play god. If for some reason he says no, and you’re going to ask me to do what I think you are, he better be as cute as you and have good hygiene. I usually charge six hundred bucks for this mouth, and one thousand for my pussy.”

  “On a daily basis I’d pay six hundred dollars to have you close it for five seconds.”

  “Give this mouth a chance”—she leaned over, making sure her tits were struggling to escape her low-cut shirt, to catch my eye—“and I’ll show you I’m worth every penny.”

  Shaking my head, I turned my attention back to my brother’s apartment building.

  Nadine flirted with me the minute we met at a publicly-run detox center. There were a few times Mrs. Sherman would give her the impression that she and I were in a relationship, but it didn’t stop Nadine. The woman was relentless. She didn’t understand that we would never get along. Two alphas couldn’t exist in a relationship. I’d wind up severely hurting her to get it through her thick skull that no one could tell me what to do. Her advances annoyed the fuck out of me. She was a killer bee, constantly buzzing around my ear. I had made plans to leave her permanently damaged until we became some semblance of partners. Our back and forth quips were commonplace between us. She was generally like a sister to me—a sister who dreamt about committing incestuous acts with me.

  “I’d rather stick my cock inside a meat grinder.”

  “Isn’t that what that old hag you’re boning is? A meat grinder? I’ll never get what you see in her.”

  Her hair was balled in my hands before she could annoy me and pop her gum or her mouth again. She tried to struggle. I circumvented the act by pinning her arms to her lap with one hand while squeezing her hard enough to make her feel pain. She glared at me, her eyes watering, letting me know I was hurting her. But she wouldn’t give in and beg me to stop. I tugged her hair harder and dug my nails into her wrists. “You’ve pushed things too far, Nadine. Apologize. The woman deserves better than your immature ribbing.”

  “Okay,” she submitted. “I’m sorry.”

  “You know why I would never go there with you?”

  “Yeah. Yeah. I’ve heard it a million times. I’m your little sister. I feel more like your bottom bitch.”

  “Because you constantly test my limits. I can’t have every day be like this with you, especially not with what we have planned. Don’t force me to constantly up the ante. Eventually, I’ll kill you. If you want to continue breathing, don’t ever speak about Mrs. Sherman that way.”

  “Okay,” she said, trembling in anger.

  I let her go, watching as she sniffed and quickly wiped her eyes.

  I reached between us and handed her a tissue. “Are you calm and collected now?”

  “I never cried. I had never cried a single fucking tear before I met you, Noah.”

  I glanced at her and fingered a strand of her hair, directing it behind her shoulder. “Because you’re in love with me. It’s a very, very dangerous state to be in around me. Fix yourself up and wait outside the door to his building. I don’t know what to expect when I get there. If I need you, I’ll call you.”

  Silent for the first time since I’d met her, she simply nodded.

  I COULD SMELL THE alcohol from outside the apartment door. I couldn’t understand why he would live like this when our parents had given him everything. Did he blow through his entire inheritance?

  I knocked on the door and called his name. I could hear the clanging of bottles before he finally opened the door.

  Shiloh had a pretty-boy baby face in contrast to my more hardened and mature features. He looked like our mother, while I favored our fathe
r. It might’ve been why the women in our community fawned over him. Desire was considered a mortal sin in the small cluster; the amount of girls who were punished for looking at him while wetting their panties with want was astounding. But today, he looked like…Grizzly Adams.

  “You look really out of place here.” I looked down the hall at his luxury digs. Between the doorman and the stained wood flooring with gold-plated and genuine silver accents in the halls, it was obvious what he was doing with the money our parents left him—being stupid and spending frivolously. “Shouldn’t you be in some back woods somewhere hunting ducks?”

  Obviously, he didn’t understand my joke. My brother still had the mentality of a former cult member. He was a recluse, too scared to go out and connect with the world. It would work to my advantage if I could convince him to be the man I wanted him to be. It should’ve been easy for him. He was raised by the very man I wanted him to emulate.

  He grumbled and waded through his apartment to lie down on a couch covered in old pizza boxes and empty liquor bottles. The floor was littered with the same stuff. Everywhere was littered with the same stuff.

  “I died, you know.”

  “I was made aware,” he mumbled, putting his arm over his face. “Did you assume I’d come running to your side? I haven’t seen you since the day you left my other apartment three years ago after having stolen half the silverware and our mother’s china for your next fix. Not quite sure what I expected of you—you didn’t bother to show up to our parents’ funeral. You don’t care for anyone. Why are you here, Noah? To steal some more things from me? Or did you forgo your pride and decide it was best to ask me for the money you believe you are owed?”

  I bit the inside of my cheek to temper my mood. His complaining cries made me feel inclined to forget what I came to him for and seek out someone else to take his place.

  I had very few options, and while I hated to admit it, Shiloh was perfect for the role. Dealing with Shiloh was difficult. It was as though I was born with enough strength for the both of us, leaving him with nothing. I had no patience for weak people, and Shiloh was the weakest fucking man I’d ever met. But like Nadine, his faults made him a perfect fit for a larger objective. Given everything between us, there wasn’t much I shared in common with him, but I knew of all the people around me, I could trust him the most. “I don’t want only the money. I want your help.” Then, I added in a mumble, “If you have any money left.”

  He dropped his arm from his face and glowered at me.

  “I need you to exercise your skills with acting. I’m going to give you the role of a lifetime.”

  “You made a habit of disclosing how horrible of an actor I was.” He reminded me of the ribbing I always gave him during the rare times I was forced to watch him in the pageants. Our community had very little in the way of amusement. Entertainment involved having the kids and adults act out scenes from their fucked up version of the bible on the fourth Sunday of every month. Shiloh was always the star because he was naturally good at acting. I hated to admit it, but given another life and another start, he could’ve actually done something with it. Then again, his weak heart and daft brain would’ve rendered him as road kill in Hollywood.

  “Matter-of-fact,” he went on, “you made sure I felt worthless about everything I did whenever you were around—the rare times you were around for more than a week.”

  “I was just fucking around with you back then. I tried to make you a stronger man.” I threw the script at him, hitting him in the head with it.

  He looked it over, his eyes trailing to the background information for Reven, the perfect setting for a narcissist. None of it was far from the truth. Our parents gave Shiloh the most attention. They loved him and coddled him like he was the second coming of the Savior. I got the shit end. They didn’t care if I came or went, only how it looked to the community. When they got tired of me, they would send me away to make sure I didn’t corrupt their precious fucking son. The school mattered little, I purposely did things to get kicked out and returned back home. They decided they had enough when I was eighteen and sent me packing. I tried to join the armed forces, but my more peculiar demons remained with me, taking me down paths I never thought I’d ever travel.

  “The background?” His eyes widened as he glanced up at me, slightly slack-jawed. “Is this what you really think life was like for me?”

  “It’s fiction,” I replied with a shrug. Getting into an argument with him about how good he had it wouldn’t have helped in convincing him to do what I needed him to do.

  “Parts are very close to my reality. But a good portion of it is completely wrong.” He continued to flip through the pages in silence. “I think this is a very skewed way of telling me what you think life was like for me.”

  “Read on,” I said with a sigh.

  “The guy? Reven?” He pointed to one line. “Some of this isn’t even a script, but directions to ad-lib: If a parishioner says this, do this?”

  “It’s a script,” I reminded him.

  “What kind of script is this? Who would speak this way?” He rolled his eyes at me.

  “You will. All great leaders have a presence and are gifted in the vocabulary department. You have to be slightly pretentious to make people aspire to be like you, to think you are better than them. Leaders should appear as though they are better than the people they lead.”

  “I wish you would speak plainly. What you really want is a reincarnation of Magnus Oliver.”

  “Who knows how to be him better than you?” Looking him over, I thought about one more thing that wasn’t in the script—something else he had to change to make the whole thing believable. “You should channel the tone of his voice, too. The natural way you project your voice won’t move anyone to do anything.”

  He dropped his chin to his chest and threw the script on the table. “I’d like for you to leave.”

  “I’m not taking no for an answer. Let me clear up some things for you: What this whole thing is about, script included, is our roles in changing the world. We are going to change the world, Shiloh.”

  “We?”

  “You. Me. A couple of people I know. We’re going to take in people who were like our parents—people like Father Corrica. We will teach them a lesson they’ll never forget. They can either redeem themselves, or we can take matters into our own hands. We are going to change the face of sex and violence one fucked-up individual at a time. We are going to make it acceptable in our world.”

  “You say our parents are evil, but I see why it was so easy for you to recognize. You’re a replica of who they were.”

  “What evil do you recognize, Shiloh? They never showed that side of themselves to you.”

  “You can’t be that far in denial. They never treated you—” Sighing, he pinched the bridge of his nose.

  “I didn’t come here to have the ‘who Mommy and Daddy loved the best’ argument. We’ve done it enough. I’m giving you a chance to do something other than whatever you are doing here. I’m giving you a chance to actually become someone. I’m giving you the chance to become a god.”

  He dropped his hands in his lap and looked to the left. “I heard Father Corrica was found dead in an alley the other day,” he said with something that could’ve fooled me into thinking he was actually sympathetic toward my situation. “It was said that his body was mutilated. Did you have something to do with his death?”

  The short answer was yes. Father Corrica was my first kill, my first lesson, and the first unofficial member of Rebirth. His murder helped me to work out the kinks in the machine, and I figured out where I was the most skilled—enforcement.

  Rebirth would be mine to run and rule. I needed a face and voice to take over the part that came with the biggest burden and the heaviest punishment if things went south. Eventually, they would. Nothing good lasts forever, and I couldn’t think of a better candidate to take the fall for Rebirth when the time came than Shiloh. I had hoped it wouldn’t happen
for many years.

  “Didn’t come here to talk about that. Are you in or out?”

  “Out.” He threw the script at me and barely had any velocity. It landed a few feet shy from where I stood.

  “Should’ve known better. Anything that arises and requires effort, you fall back into the weak, powerless pussy. I can’t completely blame you, our parents made you this way.”

  “You had a hand in that, too,” he snapped.

  “After all these years, you’re still going on about that?”

  “You can leave now.” He shoved at the air.

  “If you won’t do it for me, or for the justice we can impose, the idealism and the views we can change, do it for the power you’ll have when you’re there. I have to tell you, bro, with all that I have planned, you will have so many women fawning at your feet you’ll be stepping on them.” There was a shift in his eyes. It was enough to let me know I had a way in and what I had to do to make his timid no a firm yes. Shiloh…was still a virgin. Unbelievable. “All you have to do is read a script every night and play a part every day. If you can’t remember your lines or what to do, hell, I’ll get you a teleprompter, or an earpiece. It’s a phone-in job.”

  “Why me?”

  “Because you can act. Because you have the look we need.”

  “Why can’t you do it?”

  “I’m best at playing the background, and you can’t be harsh enough to be the man who gets things done. You can be the guy who motivates others. Come on. What the hell else are you doing?”

  He closed his eyes. “I’ll think about it. See yourself out.”

  I strode out the door and saw Nadine standing in the hall instead of outside the building like she was told.

  “He said no?” Her face screwed up into a scowl. “I thought you said he was a narcissistic asshole and he would jump at saying yes because of his ego?”

  “Believe me, he was interested from the moment I told him he could be a god,” I lied to her. “He’s fucking with me, seeing how far I’m willing to go to have him on my side. I need to make him think I’m really desperate.” I gripped her chin, and forced her to look up at me. “You better be worth every dollar of the six hundred bucks you charge.”