Page 59 of Make Me A Sinner
I fear my fucking heart’s about to explode in my chest, heat flooding my cheeks in pure rage. She didn’t even stop for a second to glance at me. Fucking bitch.
And to make things ten times worse, Set catches her hand, bringing her knuckles to his lips. “Always such an appearance.” There’s no bullshit in his voice this time, unlike with the senator or the guy from the casino commission. He’s genuinely happy to see her.
My face is probably changing color, and I’m teetering on the verge of an outburst. Especially since my past with Nick is so recent in my mind.
“Phro, this is Serena,” he introduces me to the woman as he’s done before with the previous person we talked to. He didn’t give me a title with them either—not his girlfriend, the love of his life, the reason he wakes up in the morning. It didn’t bother me with anyone else, but now it bothers me with her.
“Such a pretty little thing,” the blonde smiles at me like I’m some kind a pet and the first thing I want is to smash her fucking face in. “And your dress is superb,” she goes on, and I’m not sure if she’s just mocking me or actually trying to be nice. I don’t even care at this point. I just want her to leave. “I see you’ve kept yourself really, really busy.” She chants, turning to look at Set. “Vegas suits you well. Not as well as Egypt. But still, the closest thing.”
She knows him. Knows him well enough to mention his past, and a wave of heat crashes over me. I know he has a past, and I know he’s been with a lot of women—he said it himself. But he was always so dismissive of people. Even if he didn’t let show it, I know him by now. I know when a person gets on his nerves, andshe doesn’t. She’s only getting on my nerves—so much that I feel like the fifth wheel.
He must’ve sensed it because he instantly wraps his arm around my waist, pulling my back to his chest. “Well, Egypt didn’t have what I needed.”
It actually feels good, like getting a relief I shouldn’t need, but do. He might not call me his girlfriend or whatever in front of people. In the end, I’m not sure what we are. But he’s claiming me.
“So, Serena, how old are you?” She smiles, flipping from slightly ironic to nice, and I’m starting to believe I’m the only one seeing her as slightly ironic.
“Twenty-five,” I nearly stutter, and immediately feel like a total dork.
“Oh,” she looks straight at Set, like she’s about to say something, but just before she gets a chance to, a distinguished woman in her forties comes from the crowd and grabs her hand.
“Phro, I can’t believe it!” the woman exclaims, pulling her to a hug. Then they quickly excuse themselves to go chitchat or whatever.
“What was that about?” I ask Set, unable to help myself. Probably radiating jealous vibes right now, but I need to know who she is—or more importantly, who she is to him.
“She’s…” he trails off, and I know he’s doing it on purpose just to piss me off. “She’s someone I’ll tell you about later.”
“Later—as in you have to come up with an excuse?” I snap, because that’s the only possible reason I think of for not telling me right here.
“I’m not that piece of shit Nick. Later—as in, this isn’t something I want to discuss here,” he punctuates every word as if he uses that tone, maybe I’d get it through my head.
I’m still pissed off at him, but true to form, our story repeats itself, and a senator approaches him the very next moment, justas the auction’s about to start. Between the senator keeping Set busy and the couple of millions he donates to a few charity cases, I don’t find time to slip a private word in. I just have to trust he’ll clear things up at home.
Here, everybody wants his attention. Everybody wants a piece of him, or a favor, or whatever. I was expecting this because it happens every time we leave the house. And at this party, everybody seems to know him. Well, they kind of all seem to know each other, which makes me feel like an intruder. “I’m gonna grab something from the bar,” I excuse myself and head off to get myself a cocktail.
I need to calm my nerves, and most of all, I’m starting to think I need to get this night over with.
I’m still fuming when I reach the bar. That makes me down a Manhattan in less than two minutes, then another in the next five. And just when I pick up my third, I hear a familiar voice calling me.
But it couldn’t be. Could it?
“Serena, is that you?” The voice asks again, and I turn to find Christina—my sister—in front of me.
“Oh God, what are you doing here?” I take a few steps and hug her—and then Gregory, her husband, who’s standing stiffly next to her.
“Wow, you look so beautiful. And this dress... you’re glowing,” she says with genuine surprise, and I realize she’s right. Last time I saw her, it was before the heist, and even if my time with Set wasn’t easy, it was so different than anything I shared with Nick. Set brought out something in me no man ever could—not even my brother. A confidence that maybe I have a real shot at being happy. Even if this comes after some pretty twisted events.
“Well, I’ve been better lately.” I smile, but in reality, I can’t hide the stupid grin tugging at my lips just thinking about him.
“Well, since you’re here, I can tell,” she observes, and it’s something I’ve never really liked about her. Just because I’m in this place doesn’t make me a better person than I was a few months ago. Money might buy you a social status, but it doesn’t buy true worth. That can’t be bought.
I guess she gets that from Gregory, who was always keen on getting somewhere, being someone. Who doesn’t anyway? It just shouldn’t come at the cost of family.
“So are you here with Nick?” She asks, and the question brings me a slight shock. She doesn’t know he’s dead, and that feels surreal, because to me, it feels like a lifetime ago. And she also doesn’t know I’m the one who killed him. That she’s talking to a killer. Bet she wouldn’t be so proud of me if she’d find out.
I want to say something to get him out of the picture—maybe that I dumped him, or we broke up—some easy lie that’d get her off my back and probably some congratulations for getting rid of him. But I suddenly feel the dark presence behind me. The scent I know too well, curling into my lungs. “He’s history,” Set’s voice echoes from behind me—and just like that, my trouble doubles.
twenty-nine
