Page 43 of When Sinners Hate

Hmm. True enough.

The high-pitched shriek of fear and death suddenly reverberates through the walls from another room, and I watch as she jumps upwards and grabs for my hand. I look at them clasped together – our gold rings – then drape my jacket over her shoulders.

“Here,” I say, leading us over to the camera still filming by the door Ratchet went through. I drop her hand and hammer the door twice to let him know I’m done in here. The camera gets turned off, and I take it from its housing on the stand. The light gets switched off as I pass it to her. “Keep this.”

“You really filmed it all?”

“Yes. Could’ve been profitable if it hadn’t ended the way it did.” She frowns and holds it tightly. “You can watch it again if you need clarification of how serious this has been. Last chance, yes?”

I start walking us towards the door, as another scream comes from the next room over, and unbolt it. Time to leave.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

LEXI

The woman’s scream sends another volley of chills down my spine, and I clench Abel’s hand even tighter. This place is disgusting, and part of me wants to wash away the filth and forget everything that’s happened here.

But it’s not quite that easy.

Amongst the fear and threats, there was something heartfelt. At least, that’s what it felt like to me. Or that’s what I took from the ordeal. This was his fucked up and twisted version of a test of strength and will. And the worst part of it? I think that I want what he’s offering. To be a respected wife, a member of the family. To have responsibility and power. Not just because I have a reputation for being a bitch and have the right name, but because I'm allowed it – because I've earned it. It’s a glimmer of hope that’s so appealing it’s dangerous.

I stand on something, and my leg buckles as I seethe, but strong hands hold me firm. I grip his jacket tighter around me, even though nobody is around to see until we make it to another door. He pushes it open, but instead of relief, I’m immediately confronted by Carmen in all her refined bitchy-beauty.

The look she covers me in is enough to push me over the edge. Everything I went through was between Abel and me, and the thought that this woman can simply walk in and be a part of that makes me want to take that knife back and cut her smile from her face.

She looks towards Abel and smiles as if she’s in on the joke.

“Oh, no fucking way. You don’t get to look at him like that,” I rage as I approach her. “Ever.”

She looks bored as I block her way, and I begin to understand what those girls they use and traffic must be faced with every day.

“Abel?” She looks to him for assistance, but that’s not going to work. Not tonight.

I move in front of her face again. “No. You show me the respect I fucking deserve. Don’t ever look at me like I’m nothing but one of the girls you look after again. You hear me?”

Abel says nothing and doesn’t come to her defence.

“I don’t take my orders from you,” she says.

“You’ll be wise to listen to her, Carmen. She’s my wife.” Abel’s words are what wipe the smile from her face. I see her confidence waver, and suddenly I know exactly how to topple her.

“Take your shoes off,” I instruct.

Her brows pull into the worst frown, proving that at least she’s not completely fake. “What?”

“You heard. Give me your fucking shoes.”

Reluctantly she steps out of the sky-high stilettos. I offer her a smile and slip my feet into them. They’re a little roomy, but that’s not the point. This is me feeling vulnerable and like an outsider, needing to prove that I can fit into this fucked-up business as Abel wants. I can’t do that with someone likeCarmen thinking she’ll always have the upper hand. She doesn’t. She can’t. And the sooner I show her that, the better.

“Thank you. Let’s go.”

I stride with all the confidence I can summon towards his car, his hand still in mine, and as soon as he rounds the car to reach his side, I let go of my breath and try calming my racing heart. Shaky fingers pull my door lever, and I slide inside slowly and stare out into the night.

The door slams, signalling he’s inside, but I can’t look at him.

“What the fuck was that about?” he mutters.

“You just put me through the worst fucking test. You wanted me real and true, and you wanted a respected wife. Well, that was me being fucking real and demanding what I want if I’m to be your respected wife.” I cross my arms over his jacket and bounce my leg over my knee, letting the shoe I just stole from Carmen balance on my toes.

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