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What do I do? I’m in a total panic. There’s no logic running through my brain at all.
Or very little, anyway.
I look around quickly for the crowd of observers, but no one’s here.
That’s when I make the dumbest mistake of my life.
I throw the car in reverse and hit the gas. After a few excruciating moments of engine grinding and breaking parts, my car pulls free of the wreckage.
I straighten the wheel and flatten the accelerator pedal to the floor.
There’s a screech of rubber on asphalt as I tear out of there.
Away from the scene of the crime.
Straight toward consequences I’m not even remotely equipped to face.
Marco
What. The fuck?
I reach for a piece, but I’m not wearing one.
Weapons aren’t allowed on premises at Sins.
“What is it?” Leo’s instantly at my side, moving his body protectively in front of his date for the evening.
“Some asshole just smashed into my car.”
My brand new BMW.
“Did you get a look at him?”
The club bouncer beside us clears his throat.
“What?” I snap. “Do you know who that was?”
He rubs his nose, looking uncomfortable. “I, uh, think it was just an accident.”
I fist his shirt and push him back against the wall, even though he’s bigger and brawnier than I am. “Who was it?” I snarl. “What do you know?”
He doesn’t resist, because he knows I’m fucking dangerous. He lifts his hands in surrender. “It was a her, not a him.”
I loosen my grip.
Maybe it was just an accident.
Some drunken club-goer?
She’s still going to have to answer to me.
“Do you know her?” I demand.
“What are you going to do?”
Okay, he definitely knows her.
“I don’t hurt women,” I assure him, then glance over my shoulder where our dates for the night are standing, looking glassy-eyed and thoroughly pleasured. “Except when they like it.”
