Page 49 of Sinful Bargains

“What’s going on with your mother and Joey?”

The question hit me like a brick. I blinked, completely taken aback. “My ma and Joey?”

Oh, fuck.

His voice turned sharp, cutting through the air like a knife. “Don’t play stupid with me, kid. If you don’t want troublecoming your way—or your mother’s—you’ll tell me what’s going on between her and Joey. Or you’ll leave me no choice.”

Panic washed over me, cold and smothering. My mother was all I had, and I knew I couldn’t let anything happen to her. I stammered out the words, desperate to make him believe me. “Nothing! I swear, sir! Joey’s just been helping us out, that’s all! My mother wouldn’t get involved with someone like Joey—no offense, sir! She doesn’t want any trouble. Please, I’m begging you?—”

He cut me off with a wave. “Calm down. I’m not gonna do anything to you or your mother. Just as long as you do me a favor.”

I nodded so quickly it felt like my head might spin. “Yes, sir. Anything, sir. Whatever you need.”

“Good,” he said, flicking the ash from his cigarette. “Now, go finish your papers, keep quiet, and stay out of grown folks’ business.”

I nodded again. “Yes, sir. Of course.”

His next words sent a shiver down my spine. “This afternoon. The park near your house. You come alone. Don’t tell anyone about this.”

I didn’t hesitate. “Yes, sir. I’ll be there, sir.”

He flashed me a grin before slipping into the driver’s seat of his car. The engine roared to life, a low, menacing growl that sent a chill down my spine. I stood frozen on the curb as the car disappeared down the street, my heart hammering in my chest.

What the hell had I just gotten myself into?

My mind raced with fear and a thousand unanswered questions. Why couldn’t I have kept my mouth shut? Why did I have to go poking around, asking things I had no business asking? Now it wasn’t just me I had to worry about—what if something happened to my mother because of my own stupidity?

The weight of it all crashed down on me like a ton of bricks.And the worst part? I couldn’t tell anyone. Not a soul. I couldn’t risk it. The thought of what Vincent might do if I opened my mouth was enough to keep me silent.

I was fucked. Completely and utterly fucked.

I stood anxiously at the edge of the park, watching for Vincent. My heart pounded in my chest. I saw his car pull into view. He rolled down the window and gave a casual wave, like we knew each other, his fingers signaling me to get in.

I froze. The last thing I wanted to do was climb into that car, but I knew better than to defy him. I didn’t make the rules—Vincent did, and everyone knew the consequences when you didn’t follow them. The newspaper articles I’d read were full of stories that made your blood run cold. Those who resisted didn’t just disappear; they just ended up in the headlines. The thought of becoming another gruesome tale forced my feet into motion.

“Get in the car, kid,” he barked. I hesitated before opening the passenger side door and slipping into the seat. I couldn’t shake the gnawing feeling in my gut, wishing I had told someone what had happened—how Vincent and I were alone in his car—but I hadn’t dared speak. Fear kept me silent.

The moment he started the car, the air thickened with the scent of cigarette smoke. He lit one, taking a long drag before glancing at me sideways. The pack of cigarettes landed in my lap, along with a lighter.

“I’m not allowed to, sir,” I muttered.

He chuckled, an unsettling smirk curling at the corner of his mouth. “But you do it anyway, don’t you?”

How did he know that? Was he watching me? The thought sent a cold shiver down my spine.

“Go ahead,” he encouraged, his tone more a command than an offer.

I grabbed a cigarette, lit it with the lighter, and returned it to him. I inhaled the smoke, hoping it would calm the anxiety coursing through my body.

“How close are you to Joey?”

“Close,” I replied.

“Do you see him as a father figure?”

“I guess you could say that.”

Vincent smirked, but it wasn’t a playful one. The kind of smirk made me nervous like he knew something I didn’t—and I was about to find out.

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