Adam’s alive. Dollhouse is an operation for human trafficking. Breeders…Lords selling their children outside of the secret society.
My mind is reeling, but there’s one thing I have to take care of right now. Haidyn and Saint are on their way back to Carnage, but I have somewhere I need to be.
I bring my bike to a stop and set my helmet on the seat. A quick look at my watch tells me it’s almost two a.m. They’re probably asleep. Or fucking. Either way, this can’t wait. I have to do this now.
I ring the doorbell and, for safe measure, bang on the door a couple of times before shoving my hands into the pockets of my jeans.
Sin answers the door, dressed in a pair of black sweatpants, and his heavy eyes look around the front porch and driveway before they meet mine. “You okay?” His voice is rough, and his hair is a disheveled mess. He was definitely asleep.
I rock back on my heels. “May I come in for a second?”
“Of course.” He steps aside, and I enter the silent house, coming to a stop in the grand foyer for the second time tonight. I turn to him as he shuts the front door and faces me. He’s got a cut on his left cheek and another across his upper lip, and his right eye is bruised from my fists. “What’s going on, Kash?”
“I—”
“No. Get the fuck out.”
I turn to see Elli standing a few feet from me, wearing what looks like an oversize white T-shirt of Sin’s. She holds a SIG P220 in her hands, with thebarrel pointed right at my face. It’s Sin’s favorite gun. He carries it with him daily. He likely keeps it on his nightstand or under his pillow, and she grabbed it when she heard me speak.
I raise my hands. “I’m not here to fight,” I inform her.
“Get the fuck out of my house,” she screams, hands shaking.
“Elli.” Sin moves to stand between us, and she lowers the gun to her side so she doesn’t accidentally shoot her husband. “Give me the gun,” he orders, holding his hand out.
She just stands there, hard eyes on mine. I understand she hates me. I came into her house earlier and hurt her husband. I’m an enemy. The woman never liked me anyway. Not since Sin turned himself over to us. We strung him up, removed his Lords brand, and gave him a new one. She came to his rescue with Tyson and her father.
“I say we keep the kid and let her come visit him,” I say, stepping closer to her. “We’ll let him watch us fuck her. I bet they’d both get off on that. I know I would.” Another step closer, and I think she stops breathing. “Starve a man for a few days, he’ll eat anything. We’ll each take our turns filling your cunt with our cum, then lay you out for him like a feast. He’ll eat every drop of us out of you.”
Carnage is all about mind games, and I was fucking with hers.
Sin was going to rot in Carnage for her. He was willing to give his life so she could have a better one, and I was going to take all he had left to give until he finally gave up.
He steps into her and takes the gun. Tucking it into the back of his sweatpants, he kisses her forehead. “Go back to bed, Elli. I’ll be in there soon.”
She sniffs. “But Easton?—”
“I’ll be right there,” he promises, and she throws me one last go-to-hell look before she turns and retreats to their room. The sound of her slamming the door further illustrates how pissed she is.
Sin grabs the gun from his sweatpants and pulls back the slide. Chuckling, he removes the chambered bullet. “It was loaded and the safety was off. She was for sure going to blow your head off.” Placing the gun on the coffee table, he sits down on the couch and gestures for me to do the same in the chair across from him. “What’s up? Need something? Is everything okay?” He places his tatted arms along the back cushions, getting comfortable.
Even though I was here earlier tonight, beating the shit out of him, he still wants to be my friend. I run a hand over my hair nervously. “I just wanted to come and apologize in person,” I say.
“It’s fine.” He waves it off. “Think you’re the first man to hit me?” His laughter follows.
I get to my feet and let out a sigh. “I know, Sin.”
His body stiffens, and his face grows tight. Silence covers the large room as he gets up and walks over to a rolling cart next to the fireplace that has a decanter and glasses. He pours himself a drink and takes a sip. Then he turns to face me. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” His voice has gone cold. Detached.
“I’m not doing this.” I shake my head. “Lying to each other?—”
He turns, throwing his glass of bourbon against the wall. The crystal shatters, and the rest of the liquor runs down the wall to puddle on the floor. “Get out,” he growls.
“Sin—”
“Get the fuck out of my house.” He repeats his wife’s words, turning to face me.
I frown, stepping closer to him. “You’d rather I think you killed my brother than tell me the truth?”
