Page 27 of Where Sinners Repent

“Where, then?”

My eyebrows rise. I wasn’t expecting that. My mind races, the limited options swirling. Other than calling all of my clients and cancelling their long-awaited appointments, there is only one other thing I can think of.

“I need a fucking drink.”

Chapter 7

Kai

The girl sips on her long island iced tea through a straw, her lips still annoyingly red from her lipstick.

No, I don’t want a fucking drink. She’s already asked me ten times. She’s also tried to bait me about yesterday.

There was no fucking yesterday.

My conniving twin paid the blue-eyed girl a visit, before I rocked up. That very thought has my teeth clamping tightly together, until my jaw starts to ache.

She can’t be around him.

I already know I’ll hear about it tonight at the meeting Ash called. Instead of calling Kaleb to go to the studio and investigate, I called Griffen.

I haven’t spoken more than five words to Griffen. Until today.

The bells on the door rattle as someone else enters the shabby bar and my eyes lock onto the person walking in. They seem harmless enough. Just an older man thirsty for a beer.

Doesn’t matter. In my periphery, I watch them all, in the booth against the back wall. Watching. Waiting.

We shouldn’t be here.

If she wants to drink so bad, we should be at Club Pitch. Surrounded by Devils ready to defend her. I didn’t bother suggesting it. Her answer would have been no.

So here we are, in a bar that smells like brine and mildew. Her favourite place she said.

Swirling her straw, she blinks at me. Her eyes almost glow in the low-lit space, lined with dark wings and thick lashes.

“Do you have any siblings?” she asks, apparently trying to get to know me. “Any pets? Teddies?”

It confirms what I already know. She doesn’t know about Kaleb. And she won’t.

Her eyes roll when I don’t answer. Her nails tap against that baseball bat she always carries.

I know that need to keep it close. My brother has the same tendency with a certain butterfly knife.

With a huff, she drops her chin into her hand.

“Fuck, what a mess,” she mumbles to herself.

Only three drinks in and she’s already slurring. Fucking hell.

Her eyes follow the movement of her hand, ice cubes clinking around the tall glass as she mindlessly spins her straw.

Giving into the urge, my eyes dip to the bandage on her hand.

I shouldn’t have done it. The thought of Kaleb tasting her blood made me snap, if only for that moment. Her delicate hand closes around the glass. So fragile So fucking close. A measly bandage between her blood and my lips. I could have her hand pinned on the table in less than a second, with the bleeding wound spreading for me.

“What am I going to do?” she mutters, shaking her head softly. “It took me years to make that studio what it was. Years of literal blood, sweat, and tears.” Finally, her eyes flick to mine. “I don’t think I have it in me to do it again.”

I watch her curiously.