The Secrets of Sin Book 2

Mari

The stranger smells of overly thick department store cologne and the mint from our signature mojitos. I can tell he has had way too many of them.

His face is so close to mine that I can inspect every detail of it.

The whites of his eyes are tinged red with intoxication.

The scar on his forehead is like an uppercase V on the top of his eyebrow.

Tattoos are etched into his face.

At the start of his hairline, stretching from end-to-end, are the words “death before dishonor” in liquid black lettering.

By one of his sideburns, a hangman’s noose drops from the start of his ear, finishing at the beginning of his jawline.

Two simple, light blue hearts interlock on his right cheekbone, while the Grim Reaper’s scythe is loosely detailed on the open space near his other ear; the blade of it cuts under his chin.

His hair is dark and short, and his top lip is bigger than his bottom. Both are crooked and parked in a smirking grin.

Even in my heels, he still stands taller than me, just three or four inches shorter than Ben.

“I can’t believe it. I must be the luckiest man here,” he says.

“You know how long I’ve been looking for you, baby girl? Hmm?” He brushes his knuckles against my cheek.

He moves even closer until I am breathing in his exhale. On instinct alone, I retreat my body into a smaller form.

I step back, filling in the small gap between myself and the wall.

My head turns to the side, trying to get out of the line of his breath. His right hand touches my hair, gently lacing a lock or two behind my ear.

For a moment, I’m paralyzed again. But then Sin gets back in the driver’s seat, and I stand up to my full height.

One foot moves outside of his. My other turns forward, blocking any other attempts he might make.

Just like any of my other performances, I steal the show.

“Aw, thank you! And I loved seeing all my sweet little lambs tonight,” I say.

Thank you, Sin.

“Where did you learn to dance like that?”

“Naturally gifted, of course,” I say, faking a giggle.

“You know, I saw you looking at me while you were dancing,” he says.

“Oh, sweet lamb,” I say. I bat my lashes. Sin is everyone’s girlfriend tonight.

“You had us all under your spell. I like the way you work the crowd.”

“I love all my lambs. It’s not hard to show it. My darlings are all perfect,” I purr, my lashes glinting under the lights.

I love my lambs, and this is a safe place for a lot of them. More come in who can’t even talk to girls. I’m always patient. Sin loves them all.

I position one hand on the outer part of his bicep, and my other at his waistline.

I learned this move from Brittany when I was first training. She said it’s a move men use on women.

I won’t cause a scene. I just need to move away. I can do this all on my own. “It was so, so nice to meet you and speak with you. I can’t wait to see you next time—”

“Relax,” he says, sliding his hands around my hips. The move I tried is backfiring. The way he speaks reminds me of a snake. He’s practically hissing.

If this was a storybook, the art on the page would show his forked tongue flicking at my ear.

“I just wanna talk is all,” he says. “I wanna get to know the real you.”

His grip tightens. The one around my waist latches shut. My body now sits against his. His other hand is in my hair.

I’m looking around, feeling panicked, but he has me cornered. I can’t go anywhere.

But I’m sure I can get this back under my control.

The wide chunk of my heel comes to crush the toe of his shoe, my knee jumps up at an angle toward his crotch, and my polished, manicured nails dig into his arm.

I manage to break his hold and push him away.

“Rules are rules, my darling. Such a naughty boy.” I tsk and brush past him.

We have codes in place for this kind of thing.

I have the bouncers stationed all around. I still have time. I can still handle this. If worse comes to worst, I’ll just discreetly get their attention.

When his smirk drops and I hear a frustrated chuckle, I know I can’t smooth talk my way out.

I know, deep in my gut, he isn’t going to stop. I’m going to need help.

Ben

“I was about to send myself crazy in there,” I say to Erik.

I take more than the sip I’d intended. The ice isn’t getting the chance to melt. If I were a weaker man, I might already be sloshed.

“Not for nothing man, I’m surprised by you tonight.” Standing next to one another, I don’t need to look Erik’s way.

We’ve been friends for long enough. I know he’s going to keep talking. It’s what he does.

“I thought you were going to blow a damn gasket. You’ve come a long way. Not as spiteful as you once were. Getting old huh?” He jabs.

My face must turn into a question mark.

“Keane,” he says.

“Pretty boy? What about him?”

I still hate that sensitive pansy. I had an amazing time on my honeymoon with Mari, touring all those castles in Scotland and seeing how happy they made her.

Still, it still pisses me the fuck off that he gifted us the trip.

I came so close, so many times, to throwing that poetry bullshit in the trash. Setting it on fire and mailing him the ashes.

Erik points to my glass then flashes the long neck in his. “He’s the vendor.”

Are you fucking kidding me?

Why is she working with him? And why the fuck am I the last one to know!

That’s it. She really is getting it.

“Interesting,” I say, restraining myself.

“Is it?” Erik jokes.

“It’s fucking not, but I’m trying to keep my goddamn cool,” I snap—but tough titties, bitch. I’m pissed.

“Yeah?” He laughs, laying into me about it. “Someone a little peanut butter and jealous? Hmm?”

The humor leaves him when I swing a hit to his gut.

“What’s wrong?” I patronize him. With next to no effort, I shove him forward.

He groans as he hits the cold pavement.

“Oh jeez, what happened?” I don’t move, not even changing my tone to hide my boredom. He calls me an asshole but gets to his feet.

Then he looks over at me and we both can’t help but laugh a little.

The music filters out to the street. Nothing has died down since we’ve got here. I won’t tell him this, of course, but it’s good to just vibe with him for a few minutes.

Since Mari and I got married, it’s been different. Not a whole lot of gaming happening anymore. No club runs or late nights at the bar with my boys.

The fire of jealous rage inside me is starting to cool off, even though I know it’s still here. It’s been put on the back burner for now.

I take a few deep breaths as Erik cracks his knuckles and looks into the distance like he’s not sure what to do.

He doesn’t wanna go back in. If it was just Brittany, I could see it being a maybe. But not with Sin in command.

I need to duck in, though. I gotta find my girl. The face of the tattooed fuck flashes in front of my eyes. I’m going to have to check that situation out.

“I need to check on her,”

I can see him start to say something, but both of us cut off when we hear glass break. Our attention snaps, both of us moving down the side alley toward the back entrance of the club.

I walk closer and then I hear something. The sound of a glass breaking.

I don’t know what’s going on, but it sounds like trouble.

Mari, I’m coming.

I’ve never run so fast in my life. I’m surprised the ground doesn’t split open because of me.

I approach the dark alley, the world around me blurring.

I’m the first to burst through the door.

I scan everything at once. There are four of the bouncers on one guy and a wall of cotton white forms a wall to block the other partygoers.

One of the expensive marble tables has been toppled over, knocking the entire row of them out of alignment, and the new floors have scuff marks in four or five places and are wet with spilled drinks.

A handful of the servers are still trying to sweep up the glass.

Three chairs are broken, the seats detached from the legs.

Near the puddle of liquid on the floor, I spot a black shoe. The one Mari wears with her schoolgirl, come-fuck-me skirt.

A fight happened here.

Mari!

Erik picks up the same clues.

My blood boils. The beast inside me comes to the surface, howling in rage.

The bouncers are doing their jobs so I can’t get a good look at the face of the man that they are detaining until they finish tying his hands behind his back.

When they start to drag him away from the wall, I instantly recognize him as the creep from earlier.

His face tattoos are now red and cut open in a few spots.

I’ll kill him. I don’t give a shit about how this happened. I don’t need to know why. I’ll just rip him limb from fucking limb, right here in The Silky Bunny.

But first, I gotta find my girl.

I have to see Mari.

I need to know that she’s okay.

Erik and I both head into the crowd. Seeing above everyone else comes in handy.

I catch the tail end of some red hair dashing behind the stage curtain.

Brittany.

Where there is Brittany, there is Mari.

The line of bouncers blocking my path means jack shit to me.

“Move,” I threaten. Two of them turn out of the way, letting us pass through before they assume their original position.

They know who we are. If they don’t, they’re smart enough to know they can’t take me.

I skip the eight steps going up to the stage platform in one go. I almost jerk the whole curtain down as I go through it. I move so fast, taking no one else into account.

I see Mari’s back facing me. Brittany is standing next to her with a rag and ice. Two of her friends sit in front of her. As I get closer, I see she’s wrapped in some type of fabric.

Before I get too close, Mari can feel me; I know she can. We’ve talked about this before. How we just kinda sense each other.

She turns to me and I see the red puffy swelling in her eyes and the trace of wetness down her cheeks.

“Benny.” I see her lips move; her bottom one trembles.

Everything after that is a blur.

I wrap my arms around her and hold her tight into my chest, breathing her in and swearing to not let go ever again.

I don’t know what’s happened but I’ll handle it. I’ve just gotta make sure she’s okay first.

I make shushing sounds into her ear, asking her to calm down. I curse myself for not having been with her already

Instead, I was outside, pouting about my hot-as-all-hell stripper wife being drooled over. What the fuck is wrong with me?

How could I have let her down like this?

Why wasn’t I here with her?

Mari

“If that’s it, we’re all good. Let’s hit it then.”

Raven and Lady Wynter stand at the back exit with most of our guards.

The rest are doing their final sweep and locking up for us. It’s turning into daylight.

None of us have been anywhere else but here. Not a single person was able to leave on time because of that man.

Making our statements, counting down the till, bagging up, waiting on the cleaners. The police. The reporters. Kitchen cashing out. So many steps.

When I was just a dancer, I would just clock in and clock out, count my earnings for the night, grab a bite with Brittany, and try to get back home before Erik noticed I was gone.

Oh, how things have changed…

Being a part-owner means I’m always on duty. I don’t get those luxuries anymore. It doesn’t matter what happened tonight, I still have work to do here.

Every face I see is just as worn out and ready for bed as I am. Ross and Stevie are on the brink of becoming comatose, stretched out across the bar top as if the weight of their bodies is too much.

Every dancer is planted in a seat, their bare feet kicked up to help the swelling.

The kitchen staff is lined up shoulder-to-shoulder against the wall.

The energy here is dying quickly. I need to do something. I clear my throat, squeezing the fingers of Ben’s hand in mine before I start.

“Before we walk out, I want to tell each of you how wonderful you are and how well tonight went, no matter how it ended.

“Tonight was the biggest cash cow The Bunny has had, ever. We broke records here tonight. All of this success was only reachable because of each and every one of you.

“We will not let get overshadowed by anything or anyone. Each of you did spectacularly. I am so, so proud of you. Thank you. Please go home and rest, you have more than earned it, and be safe.”

I do my very best to smile at each person before they walk out, one by one. Over a hundred workers must now leave, all because of my actions tonight, because I couldn’t handle it.

I know what to do. And what not to do. I mentally start to kick my own butt. I am so disappointed with myself. I don’t know how much I lost us tonight.

What other damage have I caused?

The green bruise on my calf muscle speaks for itself. As well as the red welts on my shoulder and wrist.

I won’t count the headache or aching limbs. That’s just from a hard night’s work. Ben hasn’t taken his hands off me since seeing me in this state.

Brittany also hasn’t left my side and all the girls keep asking if I’m okay with a pitying tone.

There is a voice inside me, buried deep down, but I can still hear it, clear as day: “They wouldn’t ask Brittany. Or Lady Wynter.”

Again, I’m just a burden.

It stings enough that I have to blink a couple of times so I don’t tear up again.

I know Ben’s going to ask me what happened eventually. He heard my statement to the officers, but I know this is far from over with.

We walk toward the door. My gang’s arms are full of flowers.

We take what we can, but leave several more bouquets at the club to collect later; the love for The Bunny team is staggering.

The drive home, unloading everything, and settling into bed is done in complete silence.

Finally, I lie in our bed, feeling the sheets tucked in around me, the weight of the blanket on top of me, the comfort of the pillow cradling my neck. But none of it settles me.

I’m so exhausted, but I just can’t shut down. The bareness of my skin against the sheets is the perfect temp. I have no complaints, but something is still wrong.

He should be here now. What are you doing, Benny?

Being married, I know how long it takes him from the car to our bedroom floor. But he’s not here with me.

I think of getting up and going to check on him.

Thankfully though, before my worry consumes me completely, I hear him make his way into our room. Just like every night before, I listen for each step and feel his body curl up next to me.

I’m gentle when I turn to face him. I feel like a child waiting to be scolded.

Instead, Ben doesn’t say or do anything else.

We mold to one another, my head on his chest, my ear above his heart. I hear it hammering away.

I get to fall asleep faster than I have in weeks.

Today’s hassles will be turned into tomorrow’s problem.

I’m just too tired to do anything else about it.