Page 77 of Beautiful Sinners

Evan: Tell Syn that I just heard from Cillian. He and Dierdre should touch down in a few. I’m back at DF. Have her call me as soon as she can.

“I can explain.”

Tristan tosses the phone on the bed. “You bet your sweet ass you’re going to explain.”

Hendrix walks in holding a cup of coffee I would sell my soul for right now.

None so gracefully, I clamber off the bed and head into the adjoining bathroom. “Let me take a quick shower, then we’ll talk.”

Tristan follows me and blocks the doorway. “We’ll talk right fucking now.”

I knew it wouldn’t be that easy, but I did hope. I also really need a shower. My skin feels tight. The guys seem to love covering me in their cum.

Turning the shower on, I step under the spray, not caring that the water is icy cold, and grab the bottle of liquid soap from the shelf. Every movement hurts. The water stings my abraded skin, chafed raw by their coarse stubble. My nipples are swollen and red from their mouths, and I turn around so the water beating down from the showerhead hits my back and not my front.

“T, what’s going on? What did Andie give you?” Hendrix asks.

I assume Tristan shows him the message because Hendrix loudly exclaims, “Why the fuck is Evan texting you?”

I hiss under my breath when I gingerly soap between my legs. “Just give me a damn minute!”

I tune them out and do a brisk hair wash. Great. No conditioner. My hair is going to frizz like mad.

Finished, I turn off the water and get out. The memory foam bath mat soaks up the droplets that sluice down my arms and legs.

“Thanks,” I tell Constantine when he engulfs me in a large white towel.

The bathroom is cavernous—double vanity sinks, expansive shower stall, and a large garden tub that sits in front of a frosted glass window—but with the three of them crowded in here with me, it feels the size of a matchbox.

I twist away from my naked reflection in the wall-length mirror. It’s still hard to look at myself and see the burns that cover my left arm, hip, and thigh.

“I was going to tell you last night but then…” I blush thinking about what happened.

Tristan’s arms cross at his chest, his biceps stretching the short sleeves. “Where’s Dierdre?”

I puff out a breath. “With Cillian.”

The muscle in his jaw ticks. “Where exactly is she with Cillian?” he asks ominously.

“He’s taking her to Ireland.”

“Why?” he snaps, getting angrier.

“Because I told her to go.”

I jump when he barks, “Why?”

“Please don’t yell at her,” Constantine says, but the way he says it is chilling and has Tristan transferring his glare from me to him.

“I asked Evan to take her to Cillian because I needed to get her someplace safe before Gab—”

I don’t get to finish. Tristan uncrosses his arms and fists his hands at his side.

“You asked Evan?”

Getting irritated from his constant interruptions, I run my hand through my wet hair and try again. “After she told me about Gab—”

“You had no right asking that fucker for anything! She’smysister—”

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