Page 81 of The Wages of Sin

Before I could turn the knob, a heavy hand landed on my shoulder.

I spun around, praying that I’d somehow find Dorian miraculously standing behind me, ready to whisk me off to safety.

But it wasn’t him.

Instead, my stomach plummeted as I found myself staring into the cold, beady eyes of Sal D’Angelo.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

KIERA

Even as my lungs filled with air, I knew screaming wouldn’t do a thing. Not with a cold, heartless monster like Sal D’Angelo.

There was no light in his eyes of the man standing before me, no hope. Not even the sick, sadistic pleasure that had glowed in Hollis’ gaze. The only thing visible on Sal’s face was cruelty.

Enough of it to make my stomach twist in horror.

Ignited by panic, I whirled back around and tried again to throw open the door. I’d barely cracked it an inch before Sal squeezed the hand he’d cupped over my dislocated shoulder.

It was a small action. Compared to Hollis’ kicks and backhand, it barely qualified as violent, but it was viciously effective.

A bolt of electric pain shot through my chest, and I collapsed, falling to my knees in misery. Sal quickly kicked the door closed before I could cry out.

“Sorry, Kiera,” Sal said dispassionately. “We can’t let you leave the party just yet.”

We?

The realization that Sal and Hollis were colluding was enough to rip the last shred of hope out of my hands.

It had taken everything I had to escape Hollis. I could barely walk. Only one of my arms worked. I ached from head to toe. I had nothing left in the tank for a literal boss battle.

Still, I somehow found the strength to start crawling away.

Inching away from the door, I headed toward the kitchen. Even though I knew there was no escape, I had to do something. It simply wasn’t in me to just sit there and wait to die.

To my surprise, though, Sal didn’t make a move to stop me. Apparently, I was too pathetic to worry about in my current state.

Instead, Sal surprised me by turning his frustration toward Hollis, who still hadn’t stopped rolling around in the hallway.

“Fucking pathetic,” Sal grumbled under his breath before striding over to the man, grabbing one of his arms, and forcibly hauling him to his feet. “I thought you said you were an FBI agent.”

“I…am,” Hollis huffed out between labored breaths.

Sal shook his head. “Are all feds this incompetent, or are you a special case?”

Still bent over at the waist, Hollis raised his chin just high enough to shoot Sal a withering glare. “Watch your mouth, D’Angelo. Especially if you don’t want me bringing you in on a whole list of charges after all this over.”

“Is that supposed to frighten me?” Sal let out a humorless laugh and shook his head. “Here’s the thing about threats, asshole—they’re only as effective as the man making them.”

“You think I’m bluffing?” Even injured, Hollis puffed up at the insult.

“No. I think you’re a fucking idiot.” Sal turned his back on him and started walking away…back toward me. “Your job was simple—kill the girl and pin it on Dorian. But you couldn’t even manage to get her out of bed without screwing everything up.”

“She bit me!” Hollis gestured angrily toward his leg—the one that was currently dripping all over Dorian’s hardwood floors.

“You fucking pussy,” Sal muttered under his breath, stopping in front of the couch.

Whatever partnership these two had, it wasn’t a strong one. It was clear there was no love lost between them. I wondered if I might be able to use that to my advantage as I kept slowly moving across the floor.

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