Page 81 of I am Dressed in Sin (Death by Daybreak MC 2)
“More specifically, I’m asking if there’s anything about Gaz’s visits that seemed unusual to you. Anything of interest.” Sin leans back in the chair and then grabs an envelope, studying it for a moment before tossing it over to the girl.
She picks it up, opens it, and thumbs through the money there.
“This for the two of you? I usually charge a bit more for threesomes.” She glances up, takes in Grainger, takes in Sin. “But you know what, you’re both handsome enough. No kinky shit though.”
“This isn’t for sex, but I shouldn’t have to tell you that,” Sin says, his voice darkening slightly. I see now why he was offered the security job. He appears relatively unthreatening at first. I mean, with the tattoos, the piercings, the denim and leather, the blue hair, he isn’t exactly a kitten, but he seems young and fresh-faced enough to be trustworthy.
Until he just isn’t anymore.
“Tell me about Gaz.” This time, it isn’t a request. Sin sits forward in his chair and Rhea shifts uncomfortably. She isn’t aware that Crown, Beast, and I are watching. If she were, I imagine it’d be even harder to get answers out of her. Grainge’s phone is set up in just such a way that you’d have to really be looking for it.
“He comes here all the time,” she says, shrugging her shoulders. “I’m hardly the only girl he fancies.” She looks up toward a picture on the wall, some faded poster that looks like it belongs in a Florida tourism brochure from 1986 or something. “Why don’t you go ask some of them about his habits?”
She tosses her hair over her shoulder, simultaneously slipping the envelope under the waistband of her skirt. I would guess her to be around twenty-two, twenty-three. She’s pretty, too. Svelte, but a little overbalanced because of the fake tits.
There’s a certain … something about her that seems off.
I prop my elbows on my knees, carefully absorbing every move she makes. Her eyes keep straying to Grainger. At first, I thought it might be because she was into him—he is handsome, even if he’s an asshole—but now I’m starting to question myself.
She’s afraid of him.
Sin, too, but not as much. Because Sin isn’t the sergeant-at-arms. Sin isn’t responsible for upholding law in the club.
“Tell her that Beast is coming in to talk to her,” I suggest, and Sin’s mouth twitches. Grainger scowls. They’ve both got earbuds in, listening to me as I talk but unable to answer back while Rhea’s in the room.
“If you haven’t thought of anything special just yet, that’s okay,” Sin tells her, letting Grainger do his thing, standing there silent and scary in the background. “Beast will be here soon, and you can tell him.” Right away, Rhea’s face blanches. She’s chalk white, as white as Cat without the suntan. “Do you know who Beast is, Rhea?”
“I …” she starts, swallowing hard, her eyes flicking between the two men like a trapped rabbit. Again, I feel a pang of sympathy for her. If she really is up to something—or if Gaz is—then she’s in big trouble. Huge. I just don’t see how any of this relates to Reba or the casino, to Kian and Queenie, me and Grey. “Sometimes Gaz makes me deliver packages for him.”
This last part tumbles out of her red-painted lips in a rush.
“Packages?” Sin muses, exchanging a look with Grainger. He turns back to Rhea. “What sort of packages?”
“I don’t know!” she all but wails, sliding off the desk and falling to her knees. She puts her hands on Sin’s thighs, but he brushes her off and she clasps them together in prayer instead. “He never tells me what’s in them. I asked once, but …” The girl reaches up to touch the side of her mouth. There’s a tiny scar, one that I hadn’t noticed before. It’s nearly invisible beneath her makeup, but when she turns her head just right, the light catches on the small indentation.
My temper flares. My brother beats prostitutes? Like, could the asshole get any worse?
“Where do you take these packages?” Grainger asks, moving around the desk to Sin’s other side. He squats down in front of her, and I find myself chilled to the core to see him in his element. This is all new for me, seeing the guys work. This is a part of their lives that I wasn’t privy to until now. If I’m being honest with myself, I have to admit that the three months I spent with the mafia was worth it, just for this, for being part of their team.
It’s exhilarating.
“Just down the street,” she assures us, looking between Sin and Grainger with a desperate pleading in her gaze. “To that old church. I put the packages at the base of the spire thingy, and then I leave. That’s it. I swear it.” She shakes her prayer-shaped hands at Sin, perhaps mistaking him for the more forgiving of the two men. “Please don’t hurt me. I don’t know anything else, I swear it. I swear it.”
