Sinner's Revenge(59)

She frowns. “No. Not at all. But I’ve always been a daddy’s girl.” Her eyes seem to brighten as she continues. “When I was little, he used to take me to all his business meetings. I became obsessed with the company. He was so powerful and demanding. I used to practice his facial expressions in the mirror. Eventually, I perfected them.”

“Where is he now?”

Her eyes narrow as she peels the label from the beer bottle in her hands. “He’s still around. I’m just not his little girl anymore.”

“Do y’all still speak?”

She nods. “When we can. It’s complicated.”

“Doesn’t seem complicated,” I counter, letting her know her excuses don’t pacify me.

“Well, when you’re surrounded by guards and guns and people telling you what you can and can’t do, it is. You want another beer?” she asks, changing the subject.

“Sure.” I watch her naked hips sway as she walks out. Prison must have been too hard of a word for her to say. I guess having a father locked up was about as bad as not having one at all.

She comes back with the beer, and my eyes zoom in on her tits as they bounce when she literally jumps back on the bed. “What about your parents?” she asks, twisting the top off and handing the bottle to me.

“I don’t have any.” I turn up the beer, helping it wash away the reminder. When I look at her, she sits expectantly, waiting for me to elaborate. “I was born a ward of the state. You know those movies where people drop their babies off on the doorsteps of an orphanage? Well that shit happens in real life too.”

“But you have a family,” she says, and I remember I told her my family was the reason I was away for so long.

“Adoptive family. They took me in, when I was older. Helped me get on the right path.” I look down at my beer bottle, unable to meet her eyes. I’m not lying to her, I’m just not telling the whole truth. In my book, that’s the same damn thing.

“Family is family. And at the end of the day, your family is all you have.” Like she’s done so many times before, her words are rehearsed—like she’s been told that her whole life.

“That’s some Mafia shit right there,” I say, tilting my beer to her.

She laughs. “I guess I’ve been watching too much Scarface. What can I say? I love Al Pacino.”

“Want to shay ’ello to my lil’ friend?” I ask in my best Tony Montana voice.

She pulls her lip between her teeth, crawling seductively across the bed and straddling my lap. “I thought you’d never ask.”





19


IT’S MIDNIGHT. DIEM is laying in my bed, the covers tangled at her feet. And I’m just standing in the doorway watching her sleep. There’s something about it that’s peaceful—a peace I’ve never experienced.

My duffel is slung over my shoulder. I’m dressed in black. Rookie is waiting just down the road for me. After the fight with Death Mob in the nightclub, I made the decision to step away for a while. It gave me time to handle shit with the club, but now, it’s time to focus on my ultimate goal. And tonight, we’re going to make a kill.

Take a life.

Seek revenge.

Bring hell to those that wronged my brother and my best friend.

But tonight, it feels different. Because for the first time, I don’t want to kill. I don’t want revenge. I don’t care about Death Mob. I love Dirk, but I’m tired of fighting this battle.

I just want to crawl back in bed with Diem. I want to spend my nights with her wrapped around me. I want to spend my days laughing with her. I’d rather argue with her over something as simple as who left the light on than avenge the death of my brother. I was fucked up, and I was falling hard.

Pulling the door closed behind me, I ease out of the house, then jog down the road toward Rookie’s waiting truck. Midstride, I let my emotions get the best of me. I let all the feelings I’ve been shoving to the back of my brain finally surface.

I don’t just like Diem.

I’m not just infatuated with her.

This isn’t just a fling or a lay.

This is something bigger . . . something better . . . something I just can’t shake . . .

I’m not just falling hard, fast, deeply and madly for Diem . . .

I’m falling in love with her.


* * *

“You look different,” Rookie says, eyeing me warily when I get in the truck.

“I just had a revelation.” Admitting it should be hard, but if anybody gets it, Rookie will. “I’m in love with Diem.”

“No shit you are,” he says, acting like the news is old to him. “But you know it will never work.”