Page 36 of When Sinners Fall
“You're lucky I'm not slinging the damn thing. Get your ass in the jet.”
“Well, shit. First, a suit, then you're kidnapping me, and now a plane?” I look down at her, smiling. “Aren't you a real-life bad guy.” Depends on the definition I guess, but I carry on until we’re at the steps, then tip my chin at her to tell her where to go. “You're giving me a lot to think about, Dante. And, you're making me blush. A lot.” She looks back at me as she starts climbing, smiling sweetly, trying to make me believe she’s all impressed because of the money. She isn’t. If there’s one thing Wren Campbell isn’t impressed with, it's money.
Or she wasn’t.
She’s strapped in and we’re making our way along the tarmac to get in the air within the next fifteen minutes. I make us both a drink the moment we’re airborne, and then just sit and stare at her. Never had a woman in this plane with me before. It’s usually one of the family travelling with me, or I’m alone. Seems different now, like it’s got a meaning other than the job I’m heading to do.
“Where are we going?” she asks.
“New Orleans.”
“Why?”
“Got a job to do.”
“Which is?”
I frown and look outside, unwilling to lie but not about to tell her the truth either. She sighs and moves around in her seat as if she’s gonna ask the question again. So I look back at her, keeping the stare fixed and low so she knows we’re not going there.
She nods eventually and drinks her drink instead.
Her phone rings on the table about five seconds later. I roll my eyes as she glances at it and then me, practically begging me to let her answer it. So I wave my hand at it. Maybe if she gets herself lost in that, we can avoid the thing she definitely doesn’t want to get lost in for a while longer. That being information about what I do and how I do it. Besides, like I’ve said before, I enjoy listening to her talk. Enjoy watching her, too. Damn.
Arching a brow at her as she starts up talking again and rummages for her iPad, I lick my lips and look downwards at her thighs. She gets the hint after a beat or two and widens her legs, even hitches her dress up a little to give me a better view. Don’t know whether I want to watch her do it, or get my mouth down there, until she shunts herself forward and lifts a leg up onto the table for me.
My head tilts, and my hand waves the other leg wide, too.
Yeah, I’m hungry.
~
By the time we arrive at the hotel she definitely needs some new clothes. There’s not much left of the skirt she's in, and she’s wearing one of my shirts because I got too handsy with the buttons on hers. I smile a little as she fidgets beside me in the lobby, relatively happy with the vision of her all dishevelled and fucked. Swollen lips. Smudged-up eyes. But then I look out at the road and at the few boutiques on the far side of it. They're trash. There's only one place to go around here.
“You really need clothes?”
“Yes, Dante. Ireallyneed clothes.”
“Fuck.”
Having checked in and watched the bags get taken up, I grab her hand and tow her back out into the sun. It’s still early, and I don’t have to be anywhere for a while. She looks at our hands as we cross the roads, smiling about them. Guess it’s the first time I’ve made a grab for hers. Not something I can remember doing to anyone for a long ass time.
“Sweet,” she says, linking her fingers through mine tighter.
I keep moving. There’s nothing sweet about it. It’s possessive, that’s all. It’s a real fucking feeling that’s starting to land inside me, making everything greedy and selfish. It was bad enough before, but now - because of time and fucking - it’s becoming embedded, impatient and defensive. That's why she's here. I didn't want to leave her there without me, and I sure as shit wasn't risking someone else stalking her. Stupid really. This constancy puts her in more danger than if I'd left her alone. It risks other people seeing us, and if two and two get put together, she'll be a target used to threaten both me and the rest of the family.
Don’t know what to do with the sensations in all honesty. They're agitating me. Making me meaner and moodier than I normally am. Maybe the women later can take the brunt of my mood. I can already hear them now, wailing and screaming. They'll beg and plead, and then they'll try fighting like they always do. Might give me a chance to get this anger out. Especially if Shaw is his normal weak-ass self. At least give me somewhere to vent it.
Wren giggles beside me and leans her head on my arm, trying to keep up with my strides as we hit Magazine Street. “This is really nice, Dante. Kinda normal, you know? I'm glad you made me come.” I look down, letting myself forget what I've got to do soon, and give her a wry smile. “I didn't mean that. Get your head out of the gutter.”
“Pretty sure you like the gutter.”
Certainly after the last few weeks.
Still, she needs some clothes, so I lead her into the first expensive-looking boutique we come to and nod her into the space. A woman comes over to us, all smiles and swaying hips. I turn, put the closed sign on the door, and throw a black AMEXon the table. She can have the whole damn store, as far as I’m concerned, if she wants it. Couldn’t give a damn how much is spent.
“Go. Whatever you want.”
She looks uncomfortable with that and shakes her head about something but walks off to have a look around. The woman’s on her ass instantly, helping her, getting her a drink, offering her clothes out of a wardrobe in the corner. A long, midnight blue dress gets pulled out, all lace and fine silk layers over blue leather. Wren Bird lifts it to her, holds the slashed neckline up to her and twirls around. It's pretty hot, like her. Edgy. Different. The kind of thing a girl who gets lost in fantasies would choose. But she looks at the price tag, then shakes her head.
