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I lower my head into my hands and groan. I knew this whole shitshow was a bad idea. I let Nix’s grudge and Mercier’s hard on, and yeah, my own want of money lead me into this, but so far all we have is a hole in my parents' wall, no money and a naked blind chick in the bathroom. The fifteenth is two weeks away. I run my hands through my hair to calm my seething anger. “This was supposed to be two days. Two fucking days max! I can’t do this for two weeks. I have an interview for an internship this week!”
No sooner have the words left my mouth when the bathroom door opens and Lucinda walks out. She’s completely naked.
10
NIX
My pulse thunders in my ears, and the phone call with Peter Waldgrave is forgotten in the image standing before me. Anger roars in my head at how brazen she is. How utterly unashamed as she stands there, everything on show. The only part of her covered is her hair, which she’s wrapped in a towel. I gawk at her as she stands stock still. It’s so unnatural. She’s not doing this to be provocative. Sin knows how to work her body to turn on the heat, but she stands awkwardly, unmoving. Her hands at her side. She’s a fucking vision. Just like I remember. Any thoughts of her not being Sin fall away as I take in her perfect body, exactly how I remembered it. Almost. Slightly fuller hips, paler skin, but apart from that, she’s exactly the same. Pert tits with rosebud nipples the exact shade of pink as her lips over a perfectly flat waist. I look down at her pussy and something roars within me. She was mine. That pussy was supposed to belong to me and she gave it to every Tom, Dick and asshole that asked to see it, and now she’s showing it to us. To me. It’s like a really sick and twisted joke.
Is that your intent, Sin? Get me and my friends horny so you can make your escape while we are too busy fighting over you?
My muscles tighten as, beside me, Mercier jumps off the stool he’s been sitting on. I hold my hand out as a barrier to stop whatever shit he’s got going on in his head right now. He can look, but if he thinks he’s going to touch, he’s got another thing coming. I stride forward and grab her wrist before yanking her into the bedroom and pushing her onto the bed. She squeals as she falls back into the most indecent position, her legs wide enough to see what I’d spent my later teenage years dreaming about. I’m rock hard at the sight of her, but it’s anger that’s leading me. “Get the fuck dressed. You always were a whore.”
She looks right at me in sheer terror, as though I’m the one that did this, not her. Maybe years of hanging out with coked up celebrities has addled her brain. Her eyes sear into me and not for the first time, I wonder if this whole thing is a charade. Her blindness, all of it.
“Joshua,” she breathes out. No one calls me Joshua. Not since my parents died. Even the fucking teachers in school knew better than to address me by my first name. That she says it so easily makes my blood boil and all the memories we shared come flooding back. I’ve never known hatred like I feel for her, and yet I want her with every fiber of my being. If I don’t leave now, I’m going to let her destroy me all over again and I refuse to be complicit in my own destruction.
I slam the door behind me and lock it before pocketing the key.
She knows what she’s doing. Just like she knew how to manipulate me back then, she’s trying me now, but now it’s a whole new ball game. I don’t understand what she’s trying to pull with this weird naked shit. She looked terrified as she stood in front of us, but she made no attempt to cover herself.
“I think we need to discuss what we should do now,” Dacre says diplomatically, but I see the amused twinkle in his eye. I really hate how he’s seen Sin in the flesh. My Sin. It’s no surprise that Mercier enjoyed the show, but I expected more from Dacre. The longer this goes on, the more dangerous it’s becoming, because if anyone touches her, I’m going to lose it completely and if I touch her, I know I’ll have fucking lost.
“I need her gone.” I slam my hand on the counter. “Right now.” A thought comes to me. I pull out the key and open the door again. She’s still on the bed, but now she’s pulled herself into a fetal position and is weeping. I've never seen Sin cry. Not once in all the time I knew her did I see her shed a tear. For a second, I wonder if I’m doing the right thing, but then I remember what a conniving bitch she is. I swoop forward and pick her up. I ignore the surge of hormones as my hands come into contact with her body. She’s like gunpowder in my arms. She pulls herself in and snuggles against my chest as though I’m her savior, not her psycho ex. I fight the urge to protect her. It’s an ancient feeling, one at war with what I feel about her now. I hark back to the days when she was my whole world, and I’d do anything to see her smile. I pull open the door of the apartment and drop her to the floor. She hits the ground with a sickening bang, causing her to cry out. Without a word, I close the door behind her, leaving her naked and alone by the elevator door.
“Jesus, fuck!” Dacre runs past me and opens the door as I pull on my coat. “What the fuck are you doing? There are cameras out there. All it takes is for the guard to be watching.”
Trust Dacre to care more about what people will think than the fucked up situation we’re all in. I pull out a cigarette and light it. “I don’t give a fuck. She’s not my problem anymore. I’m going home. You two can have her. Give her back to her fuck of a father or don’t. I don’t want any part of it.”
I step around Dacre, who’s kneeling by Sin. He’s a fly in a spider’s lair. She’ll reel him in and pull him down, but I’m not going to go down with him. I slam my fist on the elevator call button.
I don’t look back as the elevator door opens and I step inside.
11
LUCINDA
Pain shoots up my leg and I can’t keep back the tears that wet my face as the elevator door bangs and the doors shut with a whoosh. I should be happy that Josh is gone, but happiness is not an emotion that I can conjure with my ankle twisted the way it has.
Dacre has my leg in his hands. He’s gentle with me, the opposite to Joshua’s roughness. “Can you stand?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know.”
He squeezes my ankle slightly, causing me to cry out.
“I don’t think it’s broken, but it looks like a pretty bad sprain. I’m going to pick you up and take you back inside. Is that okay?”
It’s the first time any of them have shown any interest in me at all. Nix picked me up without asking. At least Dacre is giving me the chance to say no, although I can’t say no. Not really. I bite my bottom lip and nod my head. When Nix picked me up, it had been quick, violent. As though he was hauling a bag of flour. I didn’t have time to panic before I was crashing to the ground. With Dacre, I’m hyper aware of his hands on me as he wraps my arm around his head and picks me up, one hand under my knees, the other on my back. His skin is warm and, just as I had with Josh, I instinctively fold myself into him. These men are the monsters but they are also all I have to protect me from my father. My heart thunders as his hands touch my skin and a strange feeling of electricity zips through my stomach. It’s a feeling that I don’t understand but don’t want to let go of. I cling to him and don’t let go, not even when he lowers me down on a soft chair.
“You have to let go.” Even his voice is calmer than usual. “I’m going to get a dress for you.”
I shiver, wet hair sending rivulets of water down my back. The towel I used to dry it fell off when Nix picked me up.
Dacre is back in seconds. He helps me into the dress, pulling it carefully over my head and guiding my hands into the arm holes. I can dress myself. I’m blind, not stupid, but I like how it feels to have his hands touching my skin. To have help. He smells like spice and warmth. It’s new, and something about it makes me want to bury myself into him and inhale. I file the information away. How Dacre smells wouldn’t be important to anyone else, but without being able to describe how he looks, it’s all I have. He’s tall. Almost as tall as Josh, although his hair is shorter. Josh’s hair brushed against my skin when he picked me up. Dacre’s didn’t. He’s wearing a jacket of some kind with a shirt underneath. I want to reach out and feel his face, but I can’t. It feels forbidden to touch him, although he touched me. He asked my permission.
“Can I feel you?”
He’s completely silent, though Mercier shouts out from across the room, “You can feel me, baby. Anywhere you like.”
