Sinner's Revenge (Sinner's Creed MC #2)(27)

When I’m finished talking, or shouting, or growling, her head is shoved back against the wall. Fear dances in her eyes. It’s something I’ve never seen from her, and I sure as f*ck hope she heeds my warning. Because just like her, I’m a man of my word.

When I emerge from my bedroom minutes later, my shoes are laid out in a perfect line down the wall. At the end of them is a note.

Sorry –D.





10


I DON’T SEE Diem for the rest of the day. And every minute that passes without her presence, I feel shittier. I shouldn’t; she brought this on herself. But all she wanted was some shoes. I was the one who brought her here. I was the one who packed her bag. And she knew what I would say, so she did what she had to do to try and convince me to do what she asked.

By the time Rookie and Carrie show up, I feel like I’ve hit my all-time low. What kind of f*cked-up monster was I that I felt more remorse over not buying shoes than I did when I took someone’s life? I needed some serious help. I was losing my mind.

“Where’s Diem?” Carrie asks, holding a department store bag. “I brought her something.” You’ve got to be shitting me.

“I don’t know. She’s somewhere around here,” I say, noticing Rookie narrowing his eyes on me. Just then, Diem appears in the doorway of the house, looking like someone who’d been drug behind a truck.

Her shirt is torn and hangs off her shoulder. Her shorts are big and baggy, nearly falling off her waist. And because I’m an *, she’s barefooted. Then I notice that it’s my clothes she’s wearing. I hadn’t seen her in anything but my T-shirt. Could she not have found anything in that bag of hers to wear?

“Hey,” she says, giving them a small, embarrassed smile. “I didn’t really have anything to wear.”

Carrie shoots me a look of hate before turning to Diem and smiling. “You look fine.” She walks in and I finally turn to Rookie, who’s giving me the same disgusted look.

“You’re a real piece of shit, you know that?” During my fit of rage, I’d called to tell him about her latest stunt. He just laughed and called her spoiled. But seeing her like this, I guess he felt differently. He walks past me, following Carrie inside. What the f*ck just happened? He was my brother. It was in the bylaws that he was supposed to have my back—always. Right or wrong.

Diem is standing in the doorway, holding open the screen for our guests. At the pitiful sight of her, I decide that my company can wait. First I’m going shoe shopping. But when she looks over at me, an evil smile spreads across her face. In that moment, I realize Rookie, Carrie, and I had been played. She had shit to wear; she was just doing this to get back at me. Before shutting the door, she gives me the finger and mouths, “I always win.”

And dammit if the bitch don’t.


*

“She’s good,” Rookie says, clearly amused at my situation with Diem. We’re grilling outside while the girls are inside, probably deciding how to kill me.

“No, she’s f*cking evil. I’m telling you she’s going to be the death of me.” I grab a beer, passing one to him before getting my own.

“Then take her back home,” Rookie suggests with a shrug. “She’s better now. Looks like she can take care of herself.”

I shake my head. “I can’t. If I do that, it’s like she wins.”

“Bullshit. You’re just making excuses because you want her here. Admit it.”

My eyes narrow. “I don’t want her here.” The finality in my tone only makes him smirk.

“I’m not judging, I’m just saying that if she really gets under your skin that much, let her go. There are plenty of whores around these parts. You don’t need her.” I remain silent, and can almost see the lightbulb when it goes off in his head. “Holy shit . . . you haven’t f*cked her.” He looks at me in disbelief and I light a cigarette, avoiding his eyes. “You’re falling for this broad.”

“No I’m not,” I say defensively. “She’s practically f*cking handicapped. I may be coldhearted, but I ain’t that big of an *.”

“Yeah, but you ain’t no saint either.”

“Did you come over here to play Oprah, or can we actually try and get some work done?” I snap, ready to get off this topic and onto anything else other than mine and Diem’s f*cked-up . . . whatever the hell this is.

“Whatever you say, boss,” he says, wearing that shit-eating grin that makes me sick.

“Good. Now how the hell are we gonna pull this off? I don’t want a repeat of last time.”

“We’ll just have to target them at church. Prospects aren’t invited in.”

“But they’re still around,” I say, cutting him off.

He thinks a minute. “Then maybe we need to start targeting them from the inside.”

“You mean during church?”

He shrugs. “Why not? Maybe they went in and never came out.” My wheels start spinning immediately. This could be done.

“Rookie, you’re a f*cking genius.”

Taking the cigarette from between my fingers, he nods. “I know.”


*

We’re seated around the table, and I can’t avoid the glares Carrie keeps giving me. I look to Rookie for help and he shrugs, but gives Carrie a look that tells her to chill the f*ck out.