Page 18 of Throne of Sin

“The customers love her and she’s efficient but you won’t be able to keep her as a waitress for long. She wants to earn more money,” Sienna mentions, going back behind the bar, wiping the counters. I can’t tell if she’s telling me this to mock me, or truly letting me know the predicament I have on my hands.

“The only thing money will do is send her back to whatever addiction she is fighting,” I scoff but, like a magnet, my eyes find her immediately. She’s beautiful.

“I don’t get the impression she does drugs.”

I close the folder and look at Sienna again. “Then why does she need money badly enough that she cameherefor work? She has no bills.”

“What did she say when you asked her?”

My eyes narrow into a glare. “Sweet, innocent girls don’t get sold at auctions. It’s always their past demons that send them to me. She’ll be no different.”

“Maybe I’m looking at her past demon?”

My head snaps back. “What the fuck does that mean?” I haven’t told anyone that Demi and I have history.

She raises her hand in surrender. “Simmer down. I was only implying that you must know her since she asked for a job first, but now you’ve piqued my interest.” She walks away having the last word.

If Sienna wasn’t so great at her job, I’d fire her.

Demi doesn’t make it back to my office until three AM. She walks in and falls into the leather armchair I had spanked her on earlier. She slips off her shoes and rubs at her feet. I can’t stop staring and my fingers itch to grab her foot and do it for her. Instead, I stay focused on sitting behind my desk.

“Why am I staying with you when all the other girls live in a house together?” she asks.

I can’t stand the thought of being away from you. “I’m still seeing if you can be trusted,” I reply in a bored, annoyed tone, trying to seem indifferent. I hate the way she gets under my skin without trying.

“The girls are seeing it as me getting special treatment. They also don’t understand why I’m not doing lap dances or dancing on stage yet.”

“Is this your way of saying you want to rub yourself on some dirty old man and live with a bunch of mean girls?”

She slips off her other shoe. “I’m the outsider. These girls see themselves as family and look out for one another. They’ll never accept me until I’m being treated like they are.”

“Fine, you can dance twice a week. I’ll tell Sienna to place you on the schedule. We’ll see how much they like it when two of them lose a shift on stage.”

She leans back, crossing her arms, and glares at me. “The girls on stage get to do private dances if requested.”

“Fine, but only in room two.” My answer leaves an acid taste in my mouth and my fingers curl around the edge of my desk.

“Why room two?”

“Because it has a two-way mirror so I can make sure you are giving the quality my club is known for.” My spit flies to the edge of my desk as I talk. I need to learn to control my emotions around this girl.

My pulse quickens at the thought of anyone touching her. It’s so unlike me. I’m the guy who prefers to watch. It goes with my whole no touching thing. But with Demi, I’m transported back to when I was a teen who didn’t have those types of issues.

“You and your brothers are a waste of space.” My mother stands over me and uses her foot to nudge me.

“Did you poison me?” I ask as I unleash another round into the toilet.I’m going to die, I just know it.My stomach cramps, I’m sweaty and cold, every muscle throbs.

“Don’t be dramatic. You have the flu.”

She laughs, walking out of the room as I lie on the cold ceramic tile. Its once-square pieces are cracked, some edges missing entirely. I’m curled in on myself, fading in and out of consciousness. I can hear my mother in my room, but I can’t bring myself to care. I’m too tired.

“You actually think that girl next door looks at you like you’re worth anything?” I don’t know when she came back or how long she’s been there, but my mother is crouched down to my level and I see she has Demi’s ring in her hands. “You are a stupid boy.”

I attempt to sit up, my muscles screaming in protest. She shoves the ring in my mouth, placing a hand over my lips as she hits me with her cross over my arm and back. Its sharp points dig into my skin and it doesn’t take long before my body opens up to the beating.

“You need to go to church, boy.”

When she’s out of breath, she leaves. I keep the ring in my mouth, scared she’ll do something with it.

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