Abiding Sloth: The Deadliest Sin Series, #15

By Gwyn McNamee

Now is my time.

Free from the shackles of my lies.

Exposed to those who would oppose me.

I've made all the right moves.

Aligned things perfectly to fall into place precisely.

Once my final plan is set in motion…

No one will be in a position to stop it.

Not even God himself.

I'll pay for my sins when my time on this planet has ended.

But I'm prepared to do my penance.

And I'll offer my enemies absolution before I pull the trigger.

It's the least I can do before I take this city into my death grip.

People say the Devil once lived in Chicago…

They haven't seen anything yet.

 

***Abiding Sloth is the fifteenth book in The Deadliest Sin Series about organized crime in Chicago. This series is best read in order, as the stories are chronological and each sin builds on the events of the previous one.***

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gwyn McNamee
• Release date: Dec 30, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201217839

Gwyn McNamee

Gwyn McNamee is an attorney, writer, wife, and mother (to one human baby and two fur babies). Originally from the Midwest, Gwyn relocated to her husband’s home town of Las Vegas in 2015 and is enjoying her respite from the cold and snow. Gwyn has been writing down her crazy stories and ideas for years and finally decided to share them with the world. She loves to write stories with a bit of suspense and action mingled with romance and heat. When she isn’t either writing or voraciously devouring any books she can get her hands on, Gwyn is busy adding to her tattoo collection, golfing, and stirring up trouble with her perfect mix of sweetness and sarcasm (usually while wearing heels). Gwyn is the author of The Hawke Family series, The Slip Series, The Deadliest Sin Series, The Inland Seas Series, The Supernatural Love Stories in the Absurd (written as her alter-ego, DP Payne), and several stand-alone novels.

Book preview

Abiding Sloth

ABIDING SLOTH

THE DEADLIEST SIN SERIES - BOOK 15

GWYN MCNAMEE

ABIDING SLOTH

© 2021 Gwyn McNamee

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All rights reserved. Except as permitted by U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior permission of the author.

The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, establishments, or organizations, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously to give a sense of authenticity. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

CONTENTS

Preface

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

About the Author

OTHER WORKS BY GWYN MCNAMEE

To everyone who has ever loved, even when it’s hard.

Sloth, not ill-will, makes me unjust.

-Mason Cooley

1

ROWAN

Pain slices through my body the same instant the deafening sharp crack of Galen’s gun firing hits my ears. The weapon I found in his drawer that I had been just about to set down on top of his desk tumbles from my hand and slams into the solid wood with a definitive thud.

For a second, I stand frozen, unable to move, unable to accept or fully process what’s just happened. The world seems to still around me, too. No noise. No motion. No reaction to the fact that Galen just shot me.

The blazing fire searing through the right side of my abdomen finally spurs me into action and brings clarity to the whole fucked-up situation. I press my hand against the wound, my mouth falling open on a silent cry.

Familiar green eyes lock with mine.

My vision wavers in and out, getting hazier and hazier, making it harder to see him clearly, and an old memory of those same eyes looking at me mingles with the present.

The memory that goes with the photo I just saw of him holding me as a child…

"Deartháir." The word tumbles from my lips, from somewhere deep in my subconscious, somewhere I don't know yet. There are so many things I don’t understand about what happened, about my past, but it just feels right to say to him even as warm blood coats my hand.

His eyes widen, tugging at the scar running through the left one, and he takes a step into the room. My knees buckle, and I collapse against the desk, struggling to keep my eyes open while blood flows between my fingers and out across the surface of Galen’s workspace.

Nessa? Galen’s voice quivers with uncertainty and surprise. Yet, the familiarity of it somehow settles over me like a warm blanket despite the dire circumstances.

I offer a slight incline of my head and open my mouth to explain, but nothing comes out except a strangled moan. Doubled over the desk, scorching heat and bitter ice alternately flow through me. The room spins and fades.

This must be what it feels like to die…

Somehow, I thought it would be different. After listening to Felipe’s sermons for weeks and weeks about God and Heaven and man’s salvation, I had expected something bright and warm; a welcoming presence to lift me from the misery of life on Earth and into a beautiful eternity.

Perhaps this is my penance for choosing Felipe, for accepting his sloth and my own and embracing him when I should have seen his apathy for the church and those around him and known to run immediately.

Maybe this is what I deserve.

My vision fades in and out, and I slump farther down, unable to keep myself even partially upright any longer. Galen rushes forward and around the desk to catch me before I fully collapse. Strong arms wrap around my waist, and despite the pain wracking my body, a calm settles over me, a sense of comfort and security I’ve only experienced in one other man’s arms.

A man who drove me to this place and time to meet my fate.

Nessa, I'm so sorry. Galen’s eyes shimmer with unshed tears while my own flow freely down my cheeks. I didn't know…I just saw you with the gun, and it looked like you were raising it.

I shake my head and try to speak, try to stop him from apologizing—because for men like him, firing to protect themselves is second nature—but only a tiny gasp of air comes out, the agony threatening to make me retch.

Galen holds me close, his face buried in my hair while he tries to apply pressure against my wound. "You're going to be okay. I'll take care of you, deirfiúr bheag."

Heavy footsteps pound down the hallway, and through the blur of tears, I can make out the man who was supposed to be babysitting me rush through the door and skid to a stop. What happened?

I try to focus on him, force my tongue to attempt an answer, but darkness clouds the edges of my vision in a way that seems final, like something I should fight.

If you give into it, you will never escape its clutches.

But my eyes drift closed all the same.

Just like this may be the only way I’ll ever escape Felipe…

Galen compresses his hand harder on top of mine over the wound to try to control the bleeding. Get Doc here right away.

You don’t want to take her there?

Tightening his hold on me, he shakes his head. We shouldn't move her. Find out how long it'll take him.

I force my eyes open, laboring to stay awake and focused, and turn my head toward Galen. His face melts into the blurry white ceiling, and I lift my other hand into my line of vision and find it crimson and wet.

His man’s frantic, indistinguishable words echo in my ears with his retreating footsteps.

That doesn’t sound good…

Another set of footsteps approaches, softer, faster. Shoes squeak on the tile floor as someone comes to a stop in the open doorway.

Galen tenses under me. Who the hell are you?

Nicki…your new bartender. Connor hired me. Today is my first day.

I twist my head to the side and squint at the blonde who was behind the bar when I came in. Her wide blue eyes take in the scene. Though, despite what must be a bloody mess, she appears relatively calm.

Galen shifts me slightly, applying even more pressure on the wound, enough to make me grind my teeth together to keep from crying out. What the fuck are you doing back here?

I-I heard a gunshot and overheard Sean calling a doctor. I have some basic first-aid training. I thought I might help.

It takes a moment of tense silence before anyone moves or says anything. No doubt Galen would prefer to keep her out of and