Page 55 of The Sinner's Bargain

No. No. Of course not.

“I’m okay,” I whispered to the beautiful monster watching me.

That seemed to be enough for him as he dragged the man to his feet. “She just saved your worthless life.” Lacroix gave him a shove that sent him cracking into the glass once more. “Tell Rushken to expect me and you can tell him why.”

The knife was returned to the sleeve at his hip before Lacroix turned to me. Without a word, he reached for my hand and tugged me next to him.

Not a soul in sight seemed bothered by the interaction. The place was full, crowded, yet not a single person even bothered to stop and question what just happened. They resumed their day, passing by us without so much as a glance. Even as Lacroix led me onwards.

I was still reeling. My head and chest swam with a weird, molten heat that made everything else around me feel almost dreamlike. Maybe it was feeling powerful for the first time in my life, but I was giddy with the sensation.

“Did he hurt you?”

I crawled out of the buzz humming through me to focus on the man studying my face.

I shook my head. “I’m really okay.” I hesitated before asking the question I already knew the answer to. “Would you really have killed him?” For me, I added silently.

Lacroix never so much as paused to consider his response, “Yes.”

That gooey feeling intensified until I was practically swimming in it.

It didn’t care when the rational part of my brain pointed out the flaws in my delight.

It didn’t care that it wasn’t morally right.

It didn’t care that just the day before, Lacroix had told me he would kill me.

I felt safe.

I was led into a sprawling shop lined with neatly organized stands holding an assortment of things. There were steel rods jutting from the walls holding dresses, jackets, and tops. Everything tastefully displayed to complement each other. It wasn’t the sort of place Mother would shop, but just a peek at a passing price tag and I knew it wasn’t a place a person on a budget would visit either.

A stunning woman with enormous brown eyes and dark, beautiful skin leapt off her stool when we approached. Her rich riot of curls bounced around smooth, naked shoulders, tangling with the thick, gold hoops hidden amongst the strands.

“Mama isn’t here,” she declared in a firm, set voice. “And we’re paid up.”

“Not looking for your mother, or money.”

Those watchful, wary eyes skipped from Lacroix to Cyrus before finally settling on me. They wandered over the state of me with confusion, but not judgment. Still, the tense lines around her mouth didn’t soften, nor did she comment when letting her attention pivot back to Lacroix.

“What do you want?”

Releasing my hand, Lacroix reached into his back pocket and unearthed a wallet that must have seen better days. The soft, faded folds fell open to several cards. He thumbed out a black and gold one and set it on the counter.

“Whatever she wants.”

For a moment, it was obvious from the twist in the woman’s lips that she wanted to tell Lacroix to drop dead, but something — maybe fear. Maybe the chance at a possibly large sale — seemed to change her mind.

She snatched the card off the table and shoved it into the drawer of the register. All the while, she glowered at the two men with a bold challenge as if daring them to say something about it.

When no one did and the tension in the store had blossomed to awkward and uncomfortable, she turned to me.

“Okay, let’s spend his money, shall we?”

Despite the anxious roiling in my stomach, I felt my lips twitch. “I really don’t need very much.”

The woman clicked her tongue as she led me deeper into the shop where a whole other section opened up. “Baby girl, yes, you do. That motherfucker can afford it and I am going to help you enjoy it.”

I didn’t like that idea at all.

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