Page 198 of Bad for Me

“He’s a sick fuck,” Chris spits, running a hand over his mouth. “At least when I made you suck me, I wasn’t your brother.” His hand trembles and his eyes widen. “I’m sorry, I didn’t—” A low growl cuts him off, and he shivers at the sound.

My head snaps to the right, my heart thumping like a caged animal when Sinister steps out of the shadows. A blue flash of light illuminates the snarl on his face before it moves away. He moves silently up behind me, towering over me, a furious megalith of destruction.

Chris backs up, raising his hands in supplication when Sinister steps around me, scraping his scythe along the floor. Bright sparks ignite along the edge, and I watch in fascination as the man who’s come to mean everything to me takes Chris’s head off in one fell swoop. It lands on the floor with a gruesome plop, its mouth opening and closing before it freezes in place. The body crashes to the floor, blood spilling out and covering it with a crimson stain.

I drop Barbie and throw myself into Sin’s arms, wrapping my arms around his neck. He holds me close and whispers his mantra. “Five down, little bird. One to go.”

I squeeze him tighter and reply, “I seem to remember what you said would happen if another man touched me.”

Sinister throws his head back and laughs before setting me down and sealing my mouth with his. “Goddamn, woman. I love you.”

12

WREN

Three weeks later

I tapmy fingers on the windowsill, staring blankly out of the window as the bus ambles along Arcadia’s streets. “Come on, come on,” I murmur as panic mounts inside me. Something’s wrong. Very wrong.

Sinister went out the night before last to do one of his walks through downtown. He likes to keep his eye on “his city,” as he calls it. But he didn’t come home. At first, I thought little of it. After all, he has things to do and Aidan’s business to help run. But as the hours ticked by with no word, I began to worry.

Maybe I’m paranoid. Perhaps Aidan’s taken a turn for the worse, or Sin got caught up with work. But if there’s one thing he takes seriously, it’s his word. He kissed me goodbye and told me he’d be back that night.

Only he never showed. And his cell phone goes to voicemail every time I call it.

A lump forms in my throat at the thought of something happening to him. My hands tremble, and I clasp them together, my knuckles turning white. I can’t think like that. He’s fine. Maybe Aidan needed him to torture someone, and he’s lost track of time.

Please let that be it.

I press the bell and jump out of the seat, working my way to the front. My foot taps impatiently as the driver slows to a stop. I barely wait for the doors to swoosh open before catapulting myself out of them and onto the busy sidewalk. Aidan’s compound lies three blocks to the west, and my feet automatically turn that way, breaking into a run and shouting at people to get out of the way.

The ten-foot iron gates loom before me, and I stop at the booth to tell the guard my name. Only, there is no guard. My chest heaves as I suck in air, fighting the swelling panic. Sinister told me a guard is always on duty, so where is he?

The metal handrail creaks as I pull myself up the steep stairs and peer through the window. The blood-splattered window. Jesus fucking Christ. A man lies on the floor of the small booth, his chest riddled with bullets.

My mouth dries as I clamber down the stairs and walk over to the gates. Whoever killed the guard didn’t close them all the way. I push against one, straining to force it to open just enough for me to slip through. Ahead of me is a quarter-of-a-mile winding driveway, surrounded by green lawns and lined with trees. The compound rises three stories at the end of it, with two lookout towers at each side.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck!Every part of me wants to run forward and burst inside. I know Sinister’s in there. I just do. But there’s only one of me, and besides the couple of knives I’ve tucked into my pockets, I’m not armed.

And I can’t walk into a gunfight with a knife.

Indecision locks me in place. What the fuck do I do?Breathe, Wren.

I slip back out of the gate and lean against the wall surrounding the compound. There’s no way I can do this alone. There’s no telling how many people are inside, if any. If anyone is alive. If Sin…No. Just no.

I pull my phone out of my pocket and click on the bloody kiss. “Pick up. Please, pick up.” The screen clears, and I almost cry with relief. “Hello?”

One heartbeat, two heartbeats, three.

“Dolly? What’s wrong?” Cruz, Dutch’s husband, asks. He moves into the frame and sits down. I can’t help it. Tears mist my eyes before sliding down my cheeks. Asking for help isn’t something I’m comfortable with, but I need it now, and I can’t let past traumas prevent me from doing what I need to.

“Cruz, I need help. Please. Something’s happened to Sinister.” I explain about the dead guard and my intuition telling me he’s in trouble. “I don’t have adequate weapons, and I need back-up. Are you guys still in Australia?”

Cruz nods. “Yeah, we’ll be here for some time yet.” His brows furrow, and he turns his head to the left. “Trey, do you know where The Duke is?” he calls out. “Just a minute, Dolly.” He gets up and moves off screen.

My back slides down the wall, and I land in the soft grass. Minutes tick by, and with each one, my anxiety ramps up further. I pound my fist on my thigh and blow out breaths, willing myself to calm down. Sinister needs me to be functional, not a blubbering mess. If he saw me right now, he’d be disappointed in me.

That thought makes me sit up straighter and dash away the tears. I survived my parents’ deaths. The loss of my home. The supposed death of my brother. I lived through countless assaults, torture, and starvation.

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