Sins of the Innocent: A Novella by Jamie McGuire Read Free Book Online

dinner?”
    I rolled my eyes and pressed the ignition. Spinning the tires, I backed away and whirled the car in a one-eighty. All the way to Morgan’s, I drove well above the speed limit, fast enough to escape anyone’s demons … especially mine.

“It’s just funny. That’s all,” I said, fingering the lid of my coffee cup.
    Morgan looked down at his iced coffee and then to my caramel macchiato. “Drinking a hot beverage when it’s stifling outside. Now, that’s funny.”
    “Maybe we should have gone for ice cream instead,” I said, turning to watch the pedestrians walking by.
    My eyes took in what they wore and how fast or slow they walked, and my ears picked up on key words in the conversations, like move , her , and now . It might be common to most, but it was not when you had spent your entire life waiting to be attacked.
    The air conditioner was on full blast in La Café. Morgan had chosen this spot because of the cinnamon sticky bun iced coffee. I liked that it overlooked Providence River.
    I ached to be sitting on the patio furniture just outside the front door, wishing Morgan wasn’t so sensitive to extreme temperatures. The sun lit every surface, washing out colors and forcing shoppers into the shade.
    My mind wandered in a hundred different directions, and as it often did when I relaxed, my mouth moved without thinking of the consequences. “He missed graduation.”
    “Huh?” Morgan asked, confused by the jarring turn in conversation.
    I pressed my lips together. Morgan was used to my random changes in direction, but bringing hurtful subjects to light was something we both struggled with.
    The Ryels and Greys didn’t have the luxury of sugarcoating the truth. Sometimes, we’d keep it hidden away until it was necessary, for the sake of sparing needless anguish, but that was usually for the mortals—like Mom, for instance. For her, mixing the spiritual world with our earthly plane was harder on some days than others. When it seemed like she needed normalcy for a while, we would pretend.
    Although an absentee father seemed trivial compared to the pressures of saving the world from Hell on Earth, Morgan felt it as deeply and as real as I did with any trouble of mine.
    “I’m sorry. Geez, I’m really sorry,” I said. But it was too late.
    “Oh. My dad” Morgan picked at his napkin. “He had to work. In Texas, I think.”
    “He’s still with that oil company?”
    Morgan nodded.
    “He’s the one who missed out. I know it doesn’t feel like it, but one of these days, Morg …” I slowly shook my head and exhaled. “He’s going to have a lifetime of regret to sort through.”
    “I know. It’s not real.”
    I reached across the table and covered his skinny, long fingers with mine. “It’s real to you.”
    He stared at the tabletop, nodded once, and then looked up at me with a smile. “You’re a good friend, you know. You don’t think you are, but given the choice, I’d rather you’d fished me out of that trash can than you not be here at all.”
    My heart filled with a sweet warmth that only love and appreciation from a friendship could provide. “Morg, you know what I mean when I say that I love you, right? You remind me why humanity isn’t a waste. My dad says that one is all it takes … and that’s you.”
    “I’m honored,” he said, his eyes bright. “And I feel the same way.” He patted me with his free hand. “Finished?”
    “Quite,” I said, grabbing his cup and tossing them both into the bin. I stood up, slipping the brown leather straps of my canvas knapsack over my arms and onto my shoulders.
    “Whoa,” Morgan said. “That was at least fifteen feet.”
    I shrugged, watching him stand and gather his things. “I told them to put me on the basketball team.”
    “You did?” His nose wrinkled.
    “No. Let’s go bake in the sun for a while.”
    Morgan’s shoulders slumped, and we pushed through the glass door to the sizzling sidewalk outside.
    Morgan put on a