Page 588 of Cheaters: A Dark Romance Anthology

“Aloha.” I press a kiss to his cheek.

He reaches around and grabs my ass. I clench, squeezing my eyes shut from the memories, but instantly school my features.

“Oi,” Dorian’s voice calls from the entranceway. I glance up to see him exiting the elevator. “It true?”

“Is what true?” Damien asks, standing up and placing the business section of the newspaper on the counter above the front page of the paper. I glance at the headline.

One More Man Missing

“Ka Hoahanau. You kill dem all?” He staggers into the kitchen, the scent of whiskey saturating his clothes.

Damien places his hands on his younger brother’s shoulders. “I didn’t kill anyone, Dorian.”

He shrugs him off, grabbing his brother’s half-empty glass and finishing the juice. “No talk stink. Da truth. Dat you?”

“Dorian, they are not all gone. When they are, I will tell you.” He shakes his head at the empty glass but picks it up and washes it before placing it back in the cupboard. He grabs the newspaper and places it in the recycling bin beneath the island. “You are not a part of this.”

Before either one can say anything else, the door to the west wing opens. Hector strolls out and approaches Damien. They whisper for a moment before Damien nods.

“Keep me posted.” He turns toward me. “We have dinner at five. Be ready and wear something nice.” Then he points toward his brother. “Stay out of this. Get some sleep.”

Without another word, he strolls up to the elevator, grabs a pair of shoes from the closet, and leaves.

As Hector heads back into the west side, Dorian grabs the door, his face a mixture of pain and determination.

“Let go.”

“No can.” Dorian yanks the door open even wider.

“You’re not allowed in here.”

“Dass where you wrong.” Dorian slips past the guard and into the forbidden wing.

I should leave. Call Damien. Anything. Instead, I follow after him.

A long hallway leads to several rooms. The first room stands open. Television screens line one wall, a long computer desk in front of them. Sitting in a chair, a young man peers up at the three of us.

Without saying a word, we keep walking. There’s a service elevator. Beyond that, another open room.

Inside, several men huddle over brightly lit tables. They wear gloves and face shields, packaging bags of white powder into clear bags with a bright-blue label on them.

Cocaine.

I stumble back into the hallway. My mind's playing with me. I'm seeing things. It can't be real. Damien would never–

“You both have to get out of here. If The Haku finds out –”

“He won't,” Dorian interrupts, his voice even as he picks up a brick, “‘cause you no tell.”

My eyes lock on the large, red brick in his hand. A kilo of powder. A way to get rid of the memories.

I lick my lips, taking a cautious step into the room.

“What's going on?” a third voice asks from behind me. “Hey, you can't be in –”

“Carlos,” Dorian grins at Velasquez, “I tink you and me need fo have one talk.” He turns his attention on me for a moment, his eyes following my line of sight to the brick in his hand. His grin grows. “You want dis, honey girl?”

I don't move, don't say anything. My eyes must say enough because he laughs and picks up a handful of dime bags from one of the tables.

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