Page 3 of Sin

I have enough money for two more weeks in this shit hole they call a hotel. After that, I’ll be homeless. Staying put for too long means I’m a sitting duck for the faceless men hunting me. Every time they find me, it’s nighttime and I can’t get a good look at their faces. It’s terrifying that they know who I am, but I don’t know who they are. One day, running will no longer be an option, but I won’t go down without a fight. Will the little pocket knife I carry in my backpack save my life? Maybe. Maybe not, but I won’t just die. However, I’d prefer not to find out. I’d like to get far away, so I’m out of their reach. It’s not like I have anything left for me here, anyway. My family is dead. I have no home. So, if I have to sell my body to get enough money to leave, I will. There was a time I thought I’d save myself for my future husband. However, now I know he doesn’t exist. How can you possibly have a relationship when you never stop running? You can’t, so there’s nothing to save myself for. It seems like a lifetime ago when I was a bright young girl full of hopes and dreams. If you told me back then what my life would look like now, I wouldn’t have believed you. I was going to college, making something of my life. Not running, barely affording enough food to survive. Wondering every day when I wake up if this day will be my last. They say, ‘age ain’t nothing but a number’ and I believe it because, of course, twenty-one is young, but I’m so tired and feel so damn old. Traveling the country with a backpack with three changes of clothing and the locket around my neck that has become the most prized possession. I smile as I touch the gold heart, remembering my mother giving it to me on my seventh birthday. The chain has changed as I’ve gotten older, but I still wear it every day. It’s all I have left of her. Everything else is gone.

I look up BDSM on google trying to get more information on the subject I know little about.

BDSM

noun

bondage, discipline (or domination), sadism and masochism (as a type of sexual practice).

Of course I’ve heard of it, seen it in movies, but my knowledge is limited. Is it like in the movies? Or is that all made up? Will whoever wins me tie me up and beat me relentlessly? They said over the phone that everything was completely consensual. I wonder what’s even on the list. The lady on the phone told me if you check no the men are not even allowed to ask you to do it. Of course, I have no idea what I would be into because I’ve never even masturbated. One kiss my freshman year is the extent of my experience with the male species. I had offers, boys asked me out, but I always declined because I was focused. I had goals.

I was going to be a doctor.Was.Everything changed in my second year of my bachelor's degree program.

I walk into the financial office after receiving an email stating that it was urgent that I speak with Ms. Hyde, the financial counselor. She waves to the chair on the other side of her desk and I take it while she walks around and takes a seat in her black rolling chair.

“Ms. Carter, there seems to be a problem with your tuition payment.”

I stare at her with confusion, but there must be some sort of mistake because my father pays my tuition and there’s never been an issue before.

“I don’t understand.”

Folding her hands over her desk, she says, "The check bounced." We’ll need to ask you to leave the campus. There are scholarships you can apply for next semester. However, you’ve been withdrawn from your courses for the current one.”

That is the only reason I walked into the room where my parents were being murdered. I never should’ve been there to witness the most horrific thing my eyes have ever seen. You see it in horror movies, but watching it on a screen is nothing compared to experiencing it firsthand. The stench of blood stays in my nostrils. The sounds of my mother's blood-curdling screams. My father's lifeless eyes staring back at me. People say all the time, ‘I’ll never be able to unsee that’but in this case it’s the truth.

I walk into my parents' house to find out how the hell my tuition payment bounced. I’m pissed off because one of them could’ve at least let me know there was a problem rather than me finding out the way I did.

Stepping into the living room, I gasp when I first spot my father’s unblinking eyes right in front of me. His dead body sits on his favorite chair, his head slumped to the side, those brown eyes open, unmoving, sending a chill through me. A bullet hole in the middle of his forehead. I glance towards the sound of my mother's screams and see her on the couch, fighting against a large bald man who has a gun pointed at her head. He fires once, blood splatters all over the cream-colored sofa, and he turns to me. My blood turns to ice, as the fear has me in a chokehold. My head screams, ‘run, run, run’. The fear nearly has me chained to the floor. My limbs are heavy and stuck in place until he raises the gun he now has pointed at my face. This is a fight-or-flight decision. Flight is my only option. I shriek as I turn and run.

CHAPTER 4

SIN

Iwalk into MonteBella Casino for my random visit to check on my investment. Well, it’s mine on paper, anyway. I own three casinos with Luca ‘Bones’ Bonetti because it’s simply unwise for a mobster’s name to be on a business. That’s the quickest way to end up on the government’s radar, a place none of the Bonetti’s want to be.

After meeting with the head of each department, I take a walk around and simply observe the casino floor. It was built back in the sixties, but when we bought it we had the entire thing remodeled. Most of the carpet is a vibrant red with black circles throughout. However, the carpet near the entrances have a large ‘MB’ with a gold circle around it. The slot machines are our biggest draw for everyday people. They line the casino, row after row, and are frequently filled with people. Sometimes there’s even a few people waiting.I chuckle inwardly at the old lady caressing the slot machine as if that’s going to give her the luck she’s desperately hoping for. When I approach the high limit poker tables, I find something that piques my interest. A stunning brunette fixing the strap on her blue high-heeled shoe. Phil sits next to her with irritation written all over his face as he leans in and grits something I can’t hear through his yellowteeth. The bags under his eyes tell the tale of a man who is doing a lot of drinking and not much sleeping. His khaki pants and blue shirt need a thorough washing, as does his greasy collar length hair.

Phil McEntire has become a bit of a problem as of late. He used to be a good customer, but things have changed. A few years ago, he won just under a million dollars at another casino. He gambled most of his winnings away and then took a second mortgage on his house. Then he had to sell his expensive Mercedes to pay the mortgage because he never learns. He, like many others, gambles with money he doesn’t have. Before long, he was taking on debts with bookies. It’s a dangerous game.The house always wins.Maybe you win today, but I guarantee you that the hot streak will not last for long. Gambling is an addiction. He grabs the woman’s arm, and she jerks free with a glare.

Do they know each other? I know she can’t be his because Phil has a wife unless she finally got smart and left him. Besides, this woman is far too beautiful for that loser.

He has her bent over the poker table as he undoes his pants.I don’t fucking think so, asshole.

“Let her go,” I order.

“In a minute,” he says, not bothering to look back and see who’s behind him. I can guarantee you, if he knew it was me, he wouldn’t still have his hands on her.

“McEntire, you have exactly two seconds to release the girl and get the fuck out of my casino before you’re dealt with in a way you won’t soon forget.”

He bristles at my words, seeming to suddenly realize who is behind him. Instantly he lets her go and turns to me, “I-I I’m sorry. I lost my head.”

“Get the fuck out before I have you thrown out.”

When Phil lets go of her, she falls to her knees, a soft cry escaping from her lips. I’d love to smash his fucking face in, but I’m more concerned at the moment with the young woman on her knees looking like this event was the final straw for her. Her blue eyes flutter up to mine as she trembles, her gaze nearly begging me for help. There’s something about her that makes me want to scoop her into my arms and vow to protect her. Do I know how fucking crazy that is, considering I don’t even know her? I’m well aware, but it doesn’t curb the desire.

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