Page 57 of SINS & Temptation

Wait. What?

Me

5 hours??

C.K.

He’s a wild card, Kennedy.

You need to be careful.

I can help.

My heart sinks into a messy cauldron of confusion, anger, and hurt. Why would Enzo be at a brothel for five hours? My mind races, trying to find any possible explanation that makes sense.

Don’t be an idiot. There’s only one reason a man goes to a brothel, and it’s not for the ambiance.

I sit up in bed, the weight of it all crashing down on me. The words of Savannah Whitaker replay in my head. “Then he gives you back.”

Tears burn my eyes as panic begins to slowly set in. Churning in the pit of my gut.

He’s giving me back? Then what happens to Riley? To the girls? Even the thought of brave little Truffles being pitched to the side of the road makes me sob.

This can’t be happening.

I’m hyperventilating myself into a frenzy, trying to think of what to do. I can’t leave Riley or the girls. And there’s no way I’m leaving Truffles.

“Breathe, darlin’.” My father’s words burst in like fresh air after a dust cloud. “Don’t panic.”

He said them before every show. I’d be puking in a trash can, and he’d be rubbing my back, whispering in my ear.

Why would Enzo bring me here—bring us here? All of us. He didn’t have to. He could’ve just as easily been lounging at the brothel twenty-four seven.

I can’t shake the feeling that something is off.

That, or I’m grasping at straws, unable to hold it together without fantasizing that he’s the good guy. Even when he’s dumping me off the side of the Titanic just to keep the big, cushy lifeboat all to himself.

Agent Knox’s offer hangs in the air, like a carrot from a really long stick. He has his own agenda. I know he does. He’s the FBI. The words Confidential Informant come to mind, and they’re not exactly known for their supreme life expectancy.

But he also has photos and an escape plan. Maybe for all of us.

Ugh, I need to know the truth. Part of me—the stupid part—feels like if I don’t hear it from Enzo’s own lips, I won’t believe it.

The smarter part of me wonders if it’ll take an action shot of him fucking another girl—or girls—to get it through my thick head that no matter how nice he seems or how good he looks or how good he is in bed, the man’s a prick.

Just as I’m about to do the unthinkable and call him, I hear rustling in the hall. It’s all I can do not to rip open the door, pound his chest, and demand...what? He be straight with me?

My fingers hover on the doorknob, more tears breaking through. I screw up my face and swipe my tears. I just want the truth.

But then I hear him from the other side of the door. “Sure, Uncle Andre. I’ll hand Kennedy right over to you. How about tied up and naked on a silver platter.”

My blood runs cold. He’s really going to do it. Hand me to those monsters.

Some small, brave voice inside me thinks I could do that. Not run in terror, but let it happen so that Riley is safe. Sofia, Lili, Truffles. What happens when I’m gone?

My knees give out, and my back slides to the floor as I look to Da for help. “What do I do, Da?”

“Follow yer heart, darlin’.”

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