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Sinner's Revenge(41)

By:Kim Jones


Well . . .

I can, I just don’t want to.

But I’ve decided that I like having sex with her, so I want to keep her happy. Now, at her demand, I’m picking her up. I almost stop and pick some weeds out of the ditch to give her just to be an ass, but decide against it. When I pull in her driveway, the first thing I notice is my totaled-out truck. Sickness fills my gut and I hate her all over again. I’m disgusted by the time I knock on the door.

“Come in!” she yells from somewhere inside, and I stomp in, debating on killing her. The last time I was here, I hadn’t paid much attention to the place. But without a gun trained on my head or the sight of a banged-up woman laying helplessly on the couch, I finally get the chance to fully take in my surroundings. Her house is cleaner than before, smells like a home should, and seems a lot less feminine than what I would expect Diem to have. I never gave it much thought before, but it doesn’t seem like a place she would live.

The furniture is expensive, but the house is old and outdated. The TV and sound system are state of the art, but the floors are worn and the carpet is thin. I move to the kitchen and all the appliances are brand new, and look completely out of place in the small, shabby room.

I glance around for mail or a landline but come up empty-handed. Following the sound of her shuffling around down the hall, I find her in a bathroom that should be fit for a queen—considering how vain she is. Instead, it too is old and outdated.

“How long have you lived here?” I ask, and the tone in my voice has her raising an eyebrow at me.

“Is there a reason you want to know?”

“Curiosity.” I shrug.

“Not long. I lived in a nicer place in Concord, but I wanted out of the city so I moved here. This was the only place available.” Well, that explains it. Sort of.

“Ever thought about updating?” I pry, narrowing my eyes on her. She’s hiding something. I can feel it.

Taking a seat on the edge of the bathtub, she matches my glare and explains. “No. I don’t plan to be here forever. I want to build a house somewhere. I just haven’t had the time. There’s no sense in me updating a house that I’m going to lose my ass on when I decide to move. Why all the questions?”

“Like I said.” I hold my hand out to her. “Curiosity.”

She takes my hand and stands. “No, you’re just being fucking nosy. You’re wondering why I have all this nice shit in this not-so-nice house. Well, here’s an answer for you. Mind your own fucking business.” She flashes me a fake smile and walks past me. Only someone who would have wondered the same thing would have guessed the true meaning behind my questions. I guess great minds think alike.


* * *

In the car, I finally notice what Diem is wearing. I was too busy digging for information to even bother looking before. Now I wonder how I could have missed it. She’s in a short black skirt that molds to her skin. It sits high on her waist, starting just below her breasts, which are nearly bulging out of her white, sleeveless top.

Diamond bracelets cover her wrists, and a diamond pendant rests at the hollow of her throat. Even from a distance, I can tell they’re real. And you can’t buy diamonds on a salary like hers.

“Nice bracelet,” I say, raising my eyebrows in question. She turns to look at me, her bangs falling over her eyes. Pushing them back, she glares at me, but doesn’t say anything. I love how those big, red lips poke out on a pout when she’s pissed. “Did your daddy buy that for you?”

Rolling her eyes, she twists her body so that she’s looking out the window, giving her back to me. “Are you insinuating that I’m privileged?” she asks, and I hate that I can’t see her. I trust her expressions more than her words.

“Maybe.” There’s no point in lying about it.

“Well, the answer is no. My daddy didn’t buy me these. They’re gifts from my ex-lovers. And I’m still waiting on yours.”

I laugh. “Don’t hold your breath, sweetheart. We’re not lovers and I don’t buy diamonds.”

Twisting back, she puts her elbow on the console, leaning close to me. “Not even for your mama?” I don’t have to look at her this time. I can hear the evil in her words and they cut me back down to size. I shouldn’t talk shit about her upbringing. Especially with one like my own.

“Nope,” I answer, keeping my eyes on the road. “Not even for her.” At the tone of my voice, she becomes piqued with interest. Great. I could have played that a little better. Good job, Shady. Good fucking job.

“You should be ashamed,” she chastises. “I’m sure your mother is more than deserving of diamonds.” I feel another rip in my heart at her words. If she was deserving of anything, I didn’t know it. Hell, I didn’t even know her name.