Awakened by Sin

by Mia Knight

  “Nice ride. I’m driving.”

  “I’m not going to dinner with you!” she bellowed.

  Angel turned back to the house. She jumped on his back and put him in a chokehold.

  “I have a gun in my purse, and I know how to use it,” she growled.

  “Good. It’ll come in handy.” He walked to the passenger side of the Aston and untangled himself with an ease that infuriated her. He settled her in the passenger seat before he got into the driver’s side. He paused a moment to survey the car. “You have excellent taste.”

  Of course, she did. “You can’t force me to go to dinner with you.”

  He started the car. “Of course, I can. Besides, I already have a reservation.”

  “You think blackmailing me to go to dinner with you is going to make me put out? You’re out of your damn mind.”

  “Who said anything about sex?”

  She turned toward him in the seat, ready to shout, but whatever she would have said was drowned out by the roar of the Aston.

  “Buckle up,” he said.

  He drove as recklessly as she did, so she saw the wisdom in doing as he suggested. It took less than two minutes for them to be on the open road. The Aston ate up the pavement as the last rays of light left the sky. She glared at Angel who switched gears efficiently, smoothly. This was her car, so why the fuck was he driving? This couldn’t be happening to her. She called the shots in her life, not anyone else, especially a slick crime lord from New York!

  “You’re going to regret this,” she promised.

  “I can’t wait.” He clucked his tongue. “This really is a beautiful car.”

  “What do you want, Angel?”

  “Why don’t you want Gavin to know you’re a silent partner for the Red Diamond? I’m surprised you care what he thinks. Is it because it’s a strip club?”

  “It’s not a strip club, it’s a gentlemen’s club, and Gavin knew me when I was a stripper. I don’t care what he thinks. I just don’t want him interfering.”

  “Whatever you’re doing, you’re doing it right. Every one of your investments yielded a double return. Why would he interfere?”

  She stared straight ahead with her hands clasped between her legs so she wouldn’t hit him and wreck her new car.

  “He’s the one you want to underestimate you. Why?”

  He was using an off the charts intuition that was stripping her bare. She didn’t like the sensation. In one week, Angel Roman uncovered more about her than anyone ever had, even her parents. Her relationship with Gavin was complicated, unpleasant, and filled with old hurts that would never go away. They rarely saw eye to eye, and he was manipulative and ruthless enough to use anything to make her come to heel. “That’s none of your business.”

  “I know enough for now,” he said. “And I have no interest in your businesses as long as they cooperate.”

  “We always have,” she gritted.

  “I’m just making the rounds, introducing myself.”

  “And drugging them.”

  He shrugged. “Sometimes I shake hands. Other times I pull out my gun. I usually let them lead. Kiki showed me her gun, so I showed her mine.” He took his eyes off the road and shot her a veiled look. “Mine was bigger. If she’d been a man, she would have met a different fate. Instead, she visited La-La Land for a couple of hours.”

  Hearing that Kiki tried to defend herself mollified her a little. She pulled her cell phone and gun out of her purse. Angel hummed under his breath and tapped the wheel along to the beat playing in his head. Obviously, he was off his rocker. She dialed Kiki’s number and waited for her to answer. On the last ring, she heard a weary, “Hey, babe.”

  “Tell me you’re okay,” she demanded as she clutched her gun.

  “I’m okay. Are you?”

  “Me? Of course I am. I didn’t get fucking drugged! Did he do anything else to you?”

  “No, but Carmen, I told him everything.” Kiki sounded uncharacteristically shaken. “I don’t know what he gave me. I’m so sorry. I can’t even remember everything I said—”

  “It’s okay. Did you go to the doctor? Do you need some time off? I can—”

  “No, I’m fine. The next day, I felt like I had a hangover. He told me not to contact you, that he’d handle you himself. I’ve been so worried.”

  She glared at Angel who continued to use her steering wheel as a drum. Crazy fuck. “I’m fine. I’ll kill him.”

  “Carmen,” Kiki said sharply, “don’t. No harm, no foul.”

  “He drugged you!” she shouted.

  Angel didn’t flinch, but he rolled down his window to drown out her voice.

  “I’m fine. I would have done the same if I was in his position.”

  Kiki was justifying his actions? She closed her eyes as her temples throbbed. She tapped her forehead with the gun, and it was snatched out of her hand.

  “Be careful,” Angel admonished.

  “I’m fine,” Kiki reiterated in her ear.

  “Let me know if he fucks with you again,” she ordered before she hung up. She leaned against the door and turned in his direction with her arms crossed. “How did you know Kiki had a silent partner?”

  “Bank records,” he said as he rolled up the window.

  She stiffened. “I’m not on the bank records.”

  “I know, but the quarterly payments she did to an off-shore account got my attention.”

  Her nails dug into her skin. He knew everything. “What do you want?”

  “I want a lot of things, but right now, I’m focused on information.”

  “Information about what?”

  “Everything. I want to know everything there is about everyone in this city.”

  “That’s impossible.”

  He shrugged. “Well, not everyone, just the ones who have ties to the underworld. I didn’t hurt your friend more than necessary. Why do you think I drugged her? Less effort, more forthcoming answers. Easy.”

  “You can’t do this!”

  He slanted her a glance devoid of amusement. “I can do whatever I want. That’s a crime lord’s right. He doesn’t ask; he takes. You know this. You were married to one.”

  “For a week,” she said through clenched teeth.

  “No matter. You’ve been on the outskirts of the underworld your whole life. Once you know me better, you’ll understand how I work.”

  “I don’t want to get to know you.”

  “You do,” he said with such confidence that her hands balled into fists.

  “I don’t.”

  “If I touched you right now, you wouldn’t be wet?”

  “You conceited jackass! Pull over so I can beat your ass.”

  He laughed. “As much as I’d like to see you try, we have reservations and can’t be late.”

  He was unbelievable.

  They left the barren desert behind and entered the city, which was lit up and buzzing. He coasted down The Strip. She was trying to strategize an escape plan, but that went out the window when he turned off the bustling Strip. He cruised down a deserted street she wouldn’t be caught dead on. The difference one street made off The Strip was unbelievable. Most of the stores had bars on the windows and looked abandoned.

  He pulled into the deserted parking lot of a nude bar. The sign out front said, “The Pussycat,” but only “The Pussy” was lit.

  “This is a joke, right?” she asked as Angel slid out of the car.

  He crouched down to look at her. “What do you mean?”

  “This is where you have reservations?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Nude bars don’t have reservations!”

  “This one does, and I don’t want to be late.” He shrugged back his sleeve to look at his watch. “I heard the wings are amazing.”

  She looked around the empty parking lot and street. Anyone with an ounce of common sense wouldn’t drive down this lane for fear of being shot or assaulted. Her skin prickled just sitting in the car. She felt as if the
y were being watched. She reached for her gun on the dashboard and put it in her purse.

  “I’m not going in there,” she said.

  Angel rounded the car. Belatedly, she tried to lock the doors, but she wasn’t fast enough. He opened her door and pulled her out. She stared at the dirty building, which made her skin itch.

  “I can smell the STDs from here,” she said.

  “You’re probably right. Don’t fuck anyone but me then.”

  While she was trying to think of something scathing to say, he opened her purse and peered inside.

  “What are you doing?” she asked as she snatched it from him.

  “Phone, condoms, and a gun. My kind of girl.”

  “I’m not leaving my brand-new car out here! It’s going to get stolen or vandalized.”

  He slid his arm over her shoulders. “Don’t worry about it.”

  She shoved at him and got nowhere. “Don’t tell me not to worry. I paid three hundred thousand for it!”

  “It’ll be fine.”

  “You’re insane. Fine. Tell Gavin my secrets. I don’t give a shit. I’m not going in there. I just bought these shoes. The floor’s covered in piss and jizz and God knows what else.” She pawed through her purse for her phone. “Here, call him. See if I care. You can suck my—”

  He grabbed her phone, tossed it on the seat, and slammed the door.

  “What’s your deal?” she shouted and stomped her foot. “You want to get off at a nude bar? Be my guest. Me? I got better things to do like watch my hair grow! I danced at the Red Diamond, but this isn’t my fucking scene. And if you think I’m the type of woman who will let you—”

  He leaned down and hauled her over one shoulder. She screeched and slammed her purse against his ass.

  “I’m going to kill you!”

  He set her down in front of the door and pinned her against it. She raised furious eyes to his and froze. The easygoing façade was gone. His body was tense and revved up against hers. Her heart leaped into her throat. He wouldn’t—

  “Why did you dance at the Red Diamond?” he asked.

  She blinked. “What?”

  “Why’d you do it?”

  “I don’t understand—”

  “Just answer.”

  “Because I wanted to!” She was scared, excited, and confused as shit.

  “You like the stage, the attention, the power. That’s why you did it, right? You like the adrenaline rush.”

  She stared at him. “Are you gonna sell me or something? I’m not a whore.”

  His mouth quirked. “No, you’re not. This would be easier if you were.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  His eyes hardened. “I’m gonna give you the high you’re looking for.”

  Her heart skipped. “What? I don’t—”

  He leaned so close their lips brushed as he said, “Keep close.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “You will.”

  12

  He clasped her hand and pulled her inside. She blinked as her eyes adjusted to the darkness. The only light came from the stage where two naked women danced not to music but a monotonous, relentless bass. The club was cluttered with empty tables and chairs. She glanced at the unmanned bar and then grimaced at the booth Angel stopped in front of.

  “Get in,” he said.

  “I don’t—”

  He pushed her in and followed, forcing her to scoot in to make room for him. She glared as he made himself comfortable. This place was a fucking dump. She didn’t dare touch the table, which looked as if it had a month’s worth of grime on it. She could just imagine what she was sitting on. She kept her back ramrod straight so her new sweater wouldn’t touch the booth, which was no doubt filthy. At first, she thought they were the only ones in the bar, but she was mistaken. She could just make out other slouched figures in the far booths.

  “What are we doing here?” she hissed.

  “The chicken wings are amazing.”

  “You can’t eat what they serve you! This place can’t pass a health code inspection!”

  A man rounded the stage with a large tray. He came straight to their table and placed two plates of chicken wings with a linen napkin on the table before he walked away without a word.

  “See, we were almost late,” Angel said as he shook out the napkin and placed it on his lap.

  It was hard to see the wings, but they smelled delicious. Her mouth watered, but she wouldn’t have eaten those wings unless she’d gone a week without food… and maybe not even then.

  “What the hell is going on?”

  He dug into his meal without answering her. No one moved except the girls on stage. Her skin prickled in warning. Something dangerous was going on here, but she couldn’t figure out what. No one made eye contact; they all stared at the stage as if these women were the best dancers in the world, which they were not. No one was drinking or eating except Angel. What. The. Fuck.

  The front door opened. She squinted as a man strode through the bar and took a seat at a booth three down from theirs. There was just enough light to make out Eli Stark’s sharp, handsome features. The polished image he maintained while he was a cop was gone. Now, he had a five o’clock shadow that she had to admit looked good on him. His broodiness was off the charts. She knew Eli from her stripping days. Back then, he was called out to the Red Diamond on a weekly basis. She’d witnessed him in action. He was a heartless bastard.

  “Eli Stark’s here,” she muttered.

  “What do you know about him?” Angel asked as he stared down at his plate instead of taking in their surroundings.

  “He’s cold and ruthless.”

  “Loyal?”

  “He has his own code of what’s right or wrong.”

  He nodded. “Sounds like my kind of man.”

  Several bikers came out from behind the stage and claimed stools at the empty bar. They, too, stared at the dancers as if riveted by the show. Their guns were on full display.

  She gripped Angel’s arm. “We should go.”

  “Why?”

  She leaned in close to whisper, “Black Vipers.”

  “What?”

  “The bikers at the bar. They’re the most violent gang on the West Coast. They don’t have loyalties to anyone.”

  Angel licked his finger. “They’ll behave.”

  “What the fuck is going on?”

  “I’m eating wings.”

  “Fuck the wings. What—” She broke off as the front door opened again.

  Another group of men filed in, but this time, they were well-dressed and definitely didn’t belong in a place like this. Their leader, George Wotherton, handled most of the Pyre fortune and was an old crony of Uncle Manny’s. George knew all the loopholes to keep the Pyre’s money hidden and untraceable. Despite the fact that George was essentially on their side, she had never liked him. He arranged all five of his daughter’s marriages and frequented The Strip with his sons-in-law, who worked for him and were currently occupying two tables in front of the stage.

  She gripped Angel’s thigh beneath the table. “That’s George Wotherton.”

  He tensed but didn’t stop eating. “Who?”

  “He’s Gavin’s banker.”

  “You trust him?” he asked without looking away from his wings.

  “No.”

  “Why?” She hesitated, and he finally looked up from his plate. “Tell me why, Carmen.”

  “He’s a pervert. He has a fetish for unconscious women. His sons-in-law are no different. They all work at his bank.”

  Angel considered her words and nodded before he pushed away one plate and went for the other. One of the dancers stumbled, which got her attention. She focused on the two women who couldn’t dance for shit and examined them more closely. They were too thin. Their movements were jerky, awkward, and obviously untrained. When one of the women dared to look into the silent crowd, she jolted.

  “She can’t be older than eighteen!”r />
  “She is,” Angel said.

  “How do you know?”

  “Because I asked the last time I was here.”

  “You’ve come here more than once?” She was appalled and totally turned off. Some guys had darker tastes when it came to sex, and it appeared Angel was one of them. He made it clear he was attracted to her, so she thought he would want a strong woman, but if he liked watching what looked like young teenagers with no curves and that scared, submissive expression, maybe he was—

  “I didn’t come here for the girls,” he said as if he could read her mind. “But I asked about them because I thought they were underage. They turned eighteen this week.”

  “And they’re on stage?” It happened but going totally nude a week into your eighteenth birthday was hardcore, and the girls on stage looked far from the defiant, rebellious teens one would expect.

  “Apparently, that’s what they go for here. As young as legally possible, untrained, and amateur.”

  The girls on stage were getting worse by the minute. She couldn’t blame them. She doubted that this place was ever full, and within a half hour, nearly every table and booth was now occupied by a silent spectator. Two new dancers stumbled on stage, and the other two scurried off. These two were a little better than the first. They had a little more meat on their bones and fake boobs. They sent winning smiles into the crowd as they attempted to climb the poles and promptly slid back to earth.

  She fisted her hands in her lap. She wanted to drag the girls backstage and direct them toward clubs where they could make more money if they had some training. She glared at Angel, who ate his wings as if he was at a five-star restaurant instead of a dumpy bar. She should make a scene and get out of here, but curiosity kept her in place. Something big was about to go down; she just didn’t know what.

  More people filed into the bar. She eyed each of them in turn. The ones she recognized sent a wave of dread through her. She couldn’t resist leaning into Angel to warn him about the notorious characters. Nothing she conveyed made an impression on him.

  The crowd in The Pussy was one of the most eclectic and confusing she had ever seen. Wealthy bankers and politicians sat next to gang leaders and criminals while police officers and other government officials rubbed shoulders with bikers and CEOs. She assumed they were here for Angel, but he seemed more concerned with finishing his wings than addressing anyone, and no one paid them any mind. She knew the upper echelon guys, the ones she and Vinny rubbed shoulders with at fundraisers and obligatory parties. She recognized the gangs and bikers from their tattoos, patches, or colors. Her dad would shit a brick if he knew she was within a quarter mile of any of these guys, much less in a room full of them.