Page 45 of Vengeful Sins

I inspect the rest of her body, making sure I didn’t hurt her without meaning to. I scan every inch of her. I don’t find any marks other than some red handprints around her hips, where I was holding onto her. I hope that won’t leave bruises, but I’m certain it might.

Regret at what I’ve done weasels its way into my mind, but I shove it down. She was going to do this with some random guy who could have seriously hurt her. Just the thought of some other guy touching her has anger boiling in my veins.

Instead of feeling guilty, I get up from the bed and grab her clothes from the rack next to the door.

I’m dressing her lifeless body in her clothes when I notice her fingers twitch. The drug is letting up and soon she’ll be able to walk and talk again. I don’t have time for that to happen. I want her out of this place and somewhere safe.

Once she is completely clothed, I look at her face again, where I find her staring daggers at me. Oh, she is definitely pissed. She can be pissed all she wants at me. I did this for her, to keep her safe while also playing out my own personal fantasy.

Walking to the door, I reach for the knob and open it. One of the bouncers is standing guard in front of the door.

“You done? Or you want another dose?” he asks nonchalantly.

“I’m done, but I’m taking her home with me,” I announce.

“You paid for two hours, not to take her home,” he counters.

“I don’t care what you say. She is going with me.” I stand my ground.

The guy huffs in annoyance and pushes past me into the room. I follow him, ready to fight if he tries to touch Maya. He simply stands next to the bed, looking down at Maya. “Wannago home with this guy blink twice, wanna stay here blink three times.”

Maya blinks twice before staring at him with wide eyes.

I grin. “See, she wants to come with me.”

“Suit yourself,” he dismisses us at once, leaving the room and us alone in it.

Satisfied, I slide my arms under Maya’s body and lift her up to cradle her against my chest. Her head lolls to the side until it comes to a rest against my shoulder.

I step out into the hallway, following the bouncer up the stairs, where he opens the door to the outside for me. I carry Maya across the parking lot to my car. Wedging her between me and the car door, I hold her body up while digging my keys out of my pocket to unlock the car.

I somehow manage to open the door without dropping her and lay her across the back seat. I see her legs move and feel her resistance when I position her to close the door. The drugs are leaving her body rapidly now.

Sliding into the driver’s seat, I turn on the engine before I hear Maya murmur something that sounds a lot like asshole. Ignoring her rude comment, I pull out of the parking spot and start driving to my house.

By the time I pull into my driveway, Maya’s words become more coherent, and I’m pretty sure she is saying that she hates me. We’ll see about that.

I open the garage with the remote and pull inside. I kill the engine and get out of the car. My parents are not home, but I don’t need one of the neighbors to see me carrying her inside. I close the garage before I open the backdoor. As soon as I do, Maya’s leg kicks straight out, her foot connecting with my thigh weakly.

“Nah, no kicking at me now,” I warn, before pulling her out of the car. “You’re only going to hurt yourself. Now quit fighting me.”

She wiggles around in my hold, but finally settles with a huff. “I hate you,” she whispers, her eyes filling with tears.

“No, you don’t,” I tell her as I walk us into the house through the kitchen.

I make my way up the staircase and down the hall to my room, where I kick the door open with my heel. Placing her onto the bed, I pull her shoes off her feet and drop them on the floor.

“Are you comfortable? I ask.

“Fuck you,” Maya answers, making me grin.

“Again?”

“I hate you,” she repeats for the third time.

“You don’t hate me,” I counter, hoping that I’m right. I don’t know what I want, but I don’t want her to hate me anymore.

“Why? Why did you do that?” Her voice is small, and I hate it. How can she even ask me that?

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