Well, sucks to be her because I’m not letting her go.
He shuts it off and speaks, “Next time you plan on doing something over pussy in my club, I expect to be informed.”
“Thanks,” I growl, headed for the door.
“Sin?”
“Yeah?” I turn to face him.
“Marcus?” He leans back in his seat.
“Taken care of,” I say. They won’t get anything off what the guys left for the cops to find.
He nods. “Next time, give me a heads-up.”
“Yes, sir,” I say and go to open the door but stop when I see someone was about to enter.
“Sorry I’m late,” Ryat Archer announces, entering the room. Last time I saw him, we were at the house of Lords sitting in the basement when Matt volunteered himself and Ryat for an assignment.
“Just in time,” Tyson informs him. Then he looks at me. “You’ll want to sit back down, Sin.”
Shutting the door, I walk over to the couch across from the one Ryat sits down in. He looks like shit. Busted lip, black eye, and some bruises on his upper neck. He’s wearing a hoodie, making it hard to see anything else, with a set of dark jeans. You can tell they’re older. I wonder if Matt got a hold of him like he did Matt.
“What the hell happened to you?” I can’t help but ask.
He grunts but doesn’t answer. Me and Ryat aren’t close, but he is with Tyson. The Lords are like anything else. There are cliques within us. Ryat didn’t grow up here in Pennsylvania like me, Jayce, and Corbin. He’s from New York. Moved here after high school graduation to attend Barrington.
“I was on an assignment,” Ryat states and I nod.
“I’m aware. What’s that have to do with me?” I wonder.
He bows his head, running his hand through his dark hair. “Normally, I wouldn’t do this, but if I were you, I’d want to know.” He lifts his head, and his eyes meet mine.
A cold chill runs up my spine when he speaks. I watch his lips move, hear his words, but with the blood rushing in my ears, I’m unable to process what he’s saying to me. One thing is for sure, everything is about to change. And I’m going to owe Ryat big time.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
SIN
IT’S A LITTLE after nine in the morning when I pull into the driveway. Pulling my cell out of my pocket, I call my father’s number. He answers on the second ring.
“Son.”
“Make the call,” I say, looking over the house that sits in front of me.
He sighs. “It’s for the best, East—”
“I didn’t ask for your opinion,” I interrupt him.
He lets out a deep breath, getting irritated with my attitude but I don’t care. After what Ryat told me, I need to make some changes. And they need to be made as soon as possible.
“I’ll make the call. But, son…”
Click.
I hang up, get out of the car, and enter the house. I find her in the kitchen standing at the island. The first thing I notice is the bag packed at her feet. It can’t have more than a few items of clothes and her toothbrush. It’s all we’ve brought over so far. I place my hands in the pockets of my jeans and stare at her.
“I’m leaving,” Elli announces, lifting her chin.
I sidestep to make sure I’m not blocking the exit.
Her shoulders fall but she quickly recovers. My little demon wants to be chased. Held captive. She just thought she belonged to me before, but things are getting ready to change. And not in her favor.
Huffing, she reaches down and grabs her bag, and I wait until she passes me before I turn and speak. “You won’t get far.”
She comes to a stop, slowly turning back to face me, her ice-blue eyes narrowing at my statement. “Excuse me?”
I step into her and reach up, pushing some loose strands of bleach-blond hair behind her ear. “Go ahead, run away if that makes you feel better about yourself. But you won’t get far.”
“Sin.” She sighs, getting annoyed. “What you did last night was unacceptable. You almost killed—”
I laugh, cutting her off. Almost? She shoves my chest.
“You didn’t care last time I killed a man for you. Or the time before that.” I’m up to three dead men for her. And I’ll kill many more if need be.
Her eyes drop to the floor, and I reach out, cupping her face while running my thumb over her bottom lip. “Let that be a lesson, Elli. If a man touches you, it’ll be the last thing he does.” I push my thumb between her lips. The action forcing her head back to meet my stare.
Wrapping her plump lips around it, she creates suction as I slowly pull it out. “Was that my punishment?” she whispers, remembering what I did to her last night.
“What?” I frown.
“Cutting my tongue,” she explains.
I smile at her. “No, little demon. That was for fun.”
She whimpers, and I love the way her breathing picks up at the thought that making her bleed was meant to be fun. She can try to tell me she didn’t enjoy it, but we both know that would be a lie.
“I have something much more enjoyable in mind for your punishment.”
Nibbling on her bottom lip, she asks, “Enjoyable for you or for me?”
“That’s for you to find out.”
ELLINGTON
MY HEART IS hammering in my chest. A shiver running down my spine. I had every intention of walking out that door. Telling him to fuck off.
Did I, though? If so, then why did I wait for him to return home to make the threat of leaving? I wanted him to stop me. Grab my hair, drag me back to bed, and force me to stay. I know what I did was wrong. I need to be punished. He needs to remind me that he still wants me. Needs me. It’s the fucked-up part of me that wants to be owned. I don’t know who I am without him.
“Hand me your bag,” he orders.
Reaching down, I pick it up and hand it to him. He places it on the island and unzips it. Looking inside, he must be satisfied because he zips it up and grabs my hand. He pulls me out of the kitchen, down a hallway, and into what I’m going to make the library. I can’t wait to fill it full of books. One full wall is nothing but floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the woods out back.
He pushes on the far wall and a door opens that I didn’t even realize was there. Flipping on a light, we walk down a set of stairs and into an open room.
A coldness runs over me, making me shiver at what I see. It’s a basement. I’ve been in one before. David had one at his house. He tied me up and left me there one night. But that was the first night that Sin fucked me. Made me his.
Letting go of my hand, he commands, “Strip down.” Then he throws the bag on a countertop over in the corner.
Slowly, I pull the T-shirt I was wearing—it’s his—up and over my head. Then push the shorts down my legs, along with my underwear. I feel shy all of a sudden. Embarrassed as my wide eyes look over the ropes, chains, and belts hanging on the far wall. Each one different than the other. There are various colors and sizes.
He turns around and I see my white Dior heels in his hand that were in my bag. Coming up to me, he kneels. “Place your hands on my back to steady yourself.”
I do as he says and lift my right foot off the cold concrete floor. He slides it on, followed by the other. He stands to his full height, and I smile nervously up at him. “My Prince Charming.”