Page 44 of Sinful
It’s like a sucker punch to the gut. I always knew her father was a psycho bastard, and I knew he beat her. She couldn’t hide the bruises as well as she wanted to. Fifteen-year-old me never mentioned them because it was clear she never wanted to talk about it. I should have done something. Said something. A surge of anger rushes my body. “I’m going to kill him. I’m going to slam my fist down the fucker’s throat so far I rip his bowels out through his mouth.”
"You won't get near him.” The weight of emotion threatens to crush me, but I press on. "The best thing you can do is let me go and forget I ever existed."
She’s so fucking beautiful it hurts. I’ve spent the last week wanting to hurt her. To do unspeakable things for what she did to me and now I find out it was her father all along. I slam my fist down hard on the wall of the yacht, making her jump. She’s trembling and I don’t know whether it’s from cold or fear. Fear which I’ve caused. Shame runs cold through my veins chasing the intense anger I feel. Without hesitation, I strip off my jacket and drape it around her shoulders. I refuse to let her slip away again—never again. She won't be out of my sight for even a moment, especially with her father actively searching for her. If it's the last thing I do, I won't allow him to lay a single finger on her again.
“Here you both are.” I turn to find Ed with his arm around the current supermodel-du-jour. “I thought you’d gotten up to mischief.” Ed gives me a pointed look. No doubt because of what I said to him earlier and the obvious tear tracks down Sin’s face. “Come and join the party.” He reaches between us, separating me from Sin and gently guiding her away from me. “My dear, do you like Mojitos? Irena, my bartender, makes the best in the whole of Manhattan.”
I know he’s looking out for me and making sure I don’t do something reckless, but right now, I’d push both him and the model over the side for another second, alone with Sin. I pull out a cigarette and begin to follow them. When he gets to the front of the ship, I flick it over the side. I don’t need to smoke, I need a much headier drug. I need Sin. I need her more now than I’ve ever needed her. The want and desperate need is clawing at me.
The model peels away as Ed introduces Sin to Irena. I stay back and watch as she takes a sip of the mojito that’s passed to her. There’s a look of pure joy on her face, as though she’s never tasted a mojito in her life and it’s washing away the pent up emotion of the last few minutes. It’s a stark contrast to the look in her eyes when she was talking to me. I lean against the rail and watch her. I can’t hear what she and Ed are talking about, but she’s laughing. It occurs to me that I’ve not seen her laugh so freely since we were teens. It’s like a massive weight has been lifted from her shoulders, feeing her from a massive burden. I want her. I want what I’ve always wanted, but now it’s different. I want to watch her first. I want to remember how it felt having her in my arms before all the bullshit of the world slammed down on us.
“Hey gorgeous. Wanna party?” It’s the model that was previously hanging onto Ed. Heavenly or some other weird name. She holds up a line of coke on a mirror and gives me a sly wink. Once upon a time I’d have snorted the coke off her stomach, but those days have passed. “No.”
“Your loss,” she purrs, drifting her hand over my crotch as she walks away. If only Mercier and Dacre could see me now, passing up premium pussy. “Fuck!” I let out a low breath and head back out to the deck, where it’s slightly quieter. I pull out my phone and see fifteen missed phone calls from Dacre and Mercier, and a number of text messages, probably from them, too. I don’t even have time to dial before my screen light up again. Dacre is calling. I press answer.
“She’s here with me,” I grunt into the phone.
“What the fuck, man? Where are you? We’ve been looking for you half the night!”
I roll my eyes. “It’s ten o’clock. Don’t exaggerate. We’re on Ed’s yacht. He’s throwing a party. She’s safe.” I glance back around and see her through the open door. She’s talking to a woman I recognize from one of the soaps Sin likes to watch. Her smile lights up the room and I feel my cock twitching at the sight of her.
“Look, I’ve gotta go.”
“Wait!” Dacre’s voice practically screeches through the phone, his British accent lost in the hysterics. “Are you fucking kidding me? You’ve taken her to a party?”
“I wouldn’t be the first,” I snap back irritably.
“I had to!” Dacre argues. “If this all goes tits up and we don’t get the thirty mill, I need to have something to fall back on unless you and Mercier want to get off your asses and find a job.”
“There’s no ransom.” I’m amazed at how calm I feel as I say it. Yesterday morning I woke up with the anticipation of having a third split of thirty million dollars. Now I have no money, no job and nowhere to live and I’ve not felt happier in years. “No reward money either.”
“Please tell me this is a joke. What have you done?”
I chuckle darkly as I gaze out at the Manhattan skyline. “I’m fine. Sin’s fine. I’ll bring her home tomorrow and explain everything.”
I hang up before he can get another word in and head back to Sin’s side. She’s deep in conversation with the actress who seems just as happy to talk soaps as Sin is. I grab a whisky from the bartender, even though I know I won’t drink it. I don’t know what will happen tonight, but I know I’ll want to be completely sober for it.
“I have to go back to my fiancé,” the actress says apologetically, “but here’s my number. Call me and I’ll arrange a tour of the studios.” She hands Sin a business card before wandering off.
"That was Mamie St Clair," Sin gushes, her excitement palpable.
"How did you know I was here?" I ask, genuinely curious.
She blushes, a delicate flush coloring her cheeks. "You have a presence."
I sidle closer, our proximity narrowing, and lightly touch her arm with mine. "Elaborate.”
Her blush deepens, flushing her neck and chest. It’s the most fascinating thing to watch the color rising in her cheeks. I want to explore more of where I can color her skin with blushes. “I can smell you. I know the sound of your footsteps. Plus, I heard you order a whisky at the bar.” Her mouth inches up at the edges and her eyes sparkle. It’s like having the fifteen year old girl I used to know back.
“If I let you go as you ask, what will you do? Where will you go?”
She takes another sip of her mojito as she considers my question. “I’ll find what I’m looking for.”
“Which is?”
She gives her head a slight shake. “I’ll go to a tropical island where no one knows me and spend the rest of my days sipping coconut milk right from the coconut.”
I’ve never been a beach person, but now it’s all I can think about. Me and her on a beach, skinny dipping in crystal clear water the same color as her eyes.
