Page 10 of Holy Sinner

I shrug. “Maybe, but that’s not what we’re talking about. Play nice or you’re done, Jasmine.”

She shakes her head. “I’m going to tell everyone and-”

“And what? Everyone on that set has watched you bully me for months. They know exactly what kind of person you are and you know what? It’s not a very nice or likable person, which is fine. Not everyone is, but you’re mean for fun, Jasmine. You’ve been mean to me for so long that who would ever think I’d do anything to hurt you?” I feign an innocent smile and flick my knife at her. “I’m the pushover, remember? I’m the one with two amazing boyfriends who will back up every last thing I say.” Jasmine’s eyes go wide when I mention Rafe and Grant. She didn’t think about them playing a part in this.

“They know you’re doing this?”

I laugh. “Oh, absolutely not. They’re going to be pissed when I tell them but they’ll understand because that’s what you do when you love someone.”

“All three of you are sick.”

“Sick or not, you’ll be the one on trial if you even think about opening your mouth. You think your one in a million shot to get this movie will get you more work? Not a chance. Not with Grant fucking Stone and Rafe goddamn Burdock blacklisting you. Say one fucking word and you’re done, because you’re not the one people think is the victim. You’ve gone out of your way to attack me on set and embarrassed me with your delusional shitty edits to my fucking script. You’ve thrown yourself at my men more times than I can count–right in front of me. And everyone has seen you do it all. Everyone knows what kind of person you are. You’re the predator here, not me. So go ahead and tell everyone. No one is going to believe you. Why would they?”

She shakes and wraps her arms around herself. She knows I’m right. “I-I-someone would believe me,” she says but her voice is softer now. She’s not sure anymore.

“Don’t lie to yourself. You’re smart enough to know I’m right. See what happens if you go back and try to tell them I did this to you,” I tap her dress with my knife and sigh before I wipe it off on her dress. Jasmine flinches at the press of the blade but I ignore her. She’ll learn to deal. I did.

I stand up from my crouch and pocket my knife. “Stay away from Rafe. Stay away from Grant. Do you hear me? You so much as fuck with me or try to go near them and I’ll be the last fucking thing you see.”

“You’re not going to get away with this.”

I smile brightly at her and turn on my heel to go back to the production lot. “I already did, Jasmine,” I call over my shoulder while I scoop up my bag and dust it off, leaving the bitch wearing Rosa’s face kneeling in her own puke.

Chapter Six

GRANT

Kit tried to cut Jasmine’s throat today. She thinks I don’t know but I do.

“Have you seen my mascara?” she asks, racing through the apartment and grabbing pillows off the couch like her makeup is going to be hiding there.

“You don’t need mascara,” Rafe yells from the bedroom and I roll my eyes.

“If she wants it, fucking find it.”

There’s a slam before Rafe sticks his head out of the bedroom and glares at me. “Fine, but only because you’re too fucking stupid to do it.” He points his whiskey glass at me and I get up from the couch and debate if it’s worth the publicity of Rafe showing up to dinner with a busted mouth. In the end I don’t, because Kit doesn’t like it when we fight.

“I’m going to find it before you, asshole.”

Rafe raises an eyebrow at me and glances around the apartment where Kit is still scrambling like a squirrel looking for buried nuts. “You think so?” he says and puts his glass down on the bookshelf beside him.

“Easy.”

I have no clue where the fuck her makeup is or why Kit thinks it might be in the kitchen. I can hear her banging around in there but it’s fine. I’ll find it if she wants it.

Kit rubs her temples and enters the living room with a groan. “I don’t know how I lost it. I swear I had it with everything else but then I think I was putting it on when I was talking to Alana yesterday.”

“I can buy you a new one,” Rafe says, dropping to the floor to look under the couch. Fuck. That’s a good idea. I hit the ground beside him and goddamn it, there’s the tube of mascara.“There’s no time! You said we have to leave in an hour for dinner!” Kit yells from the dining room. I wonder if she’s on the floor too looking for this damn thing we just found. I shove Rafe out of the way and go for it.

“What the fuck, golden boy?” He grabs my arm and pulls me back when I reach past him. We both end up grabbing it at the same time and I go still, just like I always do when Rafe is touching me. We both do. The shift between us is fast, it always is. It’s the stillness that brings it. His fingers are warm on mine, he flexes his fingers and I feel the strength I know he’s holding back on using right now. His hand is on top of mine and if he wanted, he could squeeze and at the least bruise me. He doesn’t. Rafe’s touch is gentle and I lean into him. Our arms are pressed together, we’re chest-to-chest, the bulk of his muscles fit against my body in a way that Kit’s doesn’t.

She’s soft with curves that fit against me but Rafe?

Rafe’s body slots against mine like it was made to go there. There’s no softness to either of us, but our hard lines fit together to make a whole. Good thing too, since neither of us knows how to back down from the other.

He strokes my fingers and that touch is all I need to reach for him.

“Fuck,” Rafe moans against my mouth but I stay silent. I curl my arm around his neck and thread my fingers through his hair.

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