Page 18 of Need (Men of Inked Sinners #3)

LULU

“Are you sure about this?” I ask Zoey as we stand on the sidewalk outside Mark’s apartment.

She peers over her shoulder at the large window in the front. “Yes, but no.”

I take her hands in mine, giving them a light squeeze. “You don’t need to do this.”

She gives me a sad smile. “I do, though.”

“No. You don’t, Zo. Grandpa and Hal will figure out a way to make the charges go away without you having to talk to Mark.”

“I can’t take that chance, Lou. And this is about me too. I need Mark to know he doesn’t hold the power here.”

I can’t even imagine what’s going on in her head. I’ve never been in her situation. If I were in her shoes, would I be doing the same thing? Maybe, but I hope I never have to find out.

“If it becomes too much, just make a move, and I’m out the door with you.”

“You don’t need to come in with me,” my sister says, always trying to be brave, even when she doesn’t need to be.

“I’m going in there with you. There’s no way I’d send you in there without having your back.”

She throws herself against me, wrapping her arms tightly around my body. “I love you,” she whispers as I hug her back, wishing I could change everything that’s happened to her.

“I love you too.” I glare at Mark’s building, wishing we could avoid this entire confrontation.

She refused to go to the cops, preferring to handle this on her own.

I tried to talk her out of it, but my sister is stubborn.

She doesn’t want to be dragged through the court system, having to defend herself, even though she was the victim here, not Mark.

I get that. I’ve seen it way too many times in my short lifetime.

“I’m ready,” she says as she backs away from me, letting her hands drop to her sides. “It’s now or never.”

I’d prefer never, but that’s because I’d do anything to protect my little sister. I’ve spent my entire life keeping her safe, and marching into Mark’s apartment feels like the most dangerous thing I’ve ever let her do.

We told no one we were doing this. Not our father, because he’d lose his mind.

When Oliver wanted to hang out tonight, I couldn’t even tell him.

His response would’ve been even more dire than my dad’s.

I haven’t known Oliver long, but I know him well enough to know it would be a no-go, and he’d probably tie us up to stop us from doing this.

Zoey turns around, pushing her shoulders back, walking forward with her head held high.

I can feel the power radiating off her as she strides up the pathway to the building.

She doesn’t look like a victim. There is no meekness or fear in her long, sure strides.

But I know Zoey well enough to know that she can put on a good show and that her insides are probably a shaking mess.

I stand inches behind her as she lifts her hand and knocks on his front door. I watch in amazement as she stands stiller than I’ve ever seen her. There is an eerie calm to her as the sound of footsteps on the other side of the door grows louder with each second.

When the door opens, a man who was probably handsome before Oliver beat his face to a pulp answers. His eyes are puffy, with dark bruises around each, spreading into his cheeks. I wince slightly, the sight of him almost overwhelming.

“Mark,” Zoey says without any trace of a quaver in her voice .

He mumbles something back because his jaw is wired shut.

Damn.

Oliver really did a number on him.

But there’s not an ounce of pity or sadness in me for him. He deserves everything Oliver gave him that night because of what he did to Zoey and probably other women who didn’t have an Oli in their corner to beat his ass before.

She pushes Mark aside, stalking into his apartment like a boss. I follow her, doing everything I can not to brush against Mark since he never moved from the doorway.

Before I make it two steps into his place, Mark turns toward us and, with a clenched jaw, says, “What do you want?”

“To talk,” Zoey says, spinning around on her heel to face Mark and me.

I stand between the two of them, knowing if something bad happens, I’ll use my position to protect my little sister.

“About?” he asks.

Zoey crosses her arms, tilting her head. “You need to drop the charges.”

Mark lets out an evil laugh that sends chills skittering down my spine. “No.”

Zoey raises an eyebrow as she glares at him. “You know the best things about dating apps?”

He grunts .

“I was able to track down a whole bunch of women who hooked up with you before I did. Their stories are very interesting, and all of them had a very similar experience with you as I did.”

Now it’s my turn to widen my eyes in surprise. Zoey hasn’t told me any of this. She left out important details as we drove to Mark’s apartment tonight.

Mark pulls in a long breath through his flared nostrils.

“And every single one of them is ready to testify with me in open court about everything, Mark. Every dirty, despicable, degrading detail about your depravity and sexual deviances. I see a very long jail sentence in front of you.”

“Bullshit,” he mutters through the stiffness that looks beyond painful, even if it’s deserved.

Zoey reaches into her pocket, pulling out her phone. “You want to test me?”

Mark’s dark-rimmed eyes drop to the phone in my sister’s hand. “You didn’t find anything.”

“Social media is an amazing thing, Mark. Between that and the dating app, I know everything.”

“Liar,” he seethes, taking a step forward, but he stops when I move in his way.

But I’m not empty-handed. I didn’t bring my gun because I knew if things went badly, I might end up with the bullet or my sister would.

I’m not strong enough to wrestle a man over control of a weapon.

But I did bring my strongest can of pepper spray.

If he couldn’t see, he couldn’t attack us—or at least that was my line of thinking when I stuck it in the front pocket of my jeans.

“Does Mary Catherine ring any bells?” Zoey asks with a smug smirk on her face.

Mark’s face pales beneath the bruises.

I’m not sure if I’ve ever been prouder of my sister than I am right now. Everything about her oozes power.

The smile on her face grows wider, and I can practically see the strength surging within her.

“Want to call me a liar again?” She pauses and stares at him as his breathing grows more labored.

“I want you to drop the charges against Oliver, or else me, Mary Catherine, and the handful of other women I’ve been able to talk to are going to the police.

They may not believe one of us, but when there’s a group who’ve all had the same fucked-up experience with you, people will listen, and you’ll lose.

I think there are enough of us to have your ass behind bars for many, many years. ”

“You wouldn’t,” Mark says, but his entire posture has changed. He may not be visibly shaking, but he’s rattled on the inside.

Zoey lifts her chin, glaring down her nose at him. “I would, Mark. For me, there’s no better fantasy than some man making you his bitch behind bars. ”

My knees go weak at the balls on my sister, and somehow, I don’t break out in a fit of laughter at the way Mark’s face contorts into something even more hideous.

“Drop the charges first thing in the morning, or we’ll be at the police station tomorrow night to file charges against you. It’s in your hands now,” she tells him and takes a step toward the door.

But to get to the door, she needs to walk by Mark. I stiffen as she gets closer to him, hoping he doesn’t try something. I let my hand drop to my pocket and to the pepper spray, ready for anything.

Zoey stops two feet in front of him. “Move,” she says, motioning with the backs of her fingers like he’s a fly she’s shooing away.

“Zoey,” he says and reaches for her.

My heart leaps in my chest and I rush forward, but Zoey takes a step back, avoiding his touch.

“Don’t. Unless you want to lose that,” she says with so much confidence I almost believe she could rip his hand right off without much effort.

Mark’s hand drops as he steps to the side. “I’m sorry,” he says, as if it’s enough to make everything better.

“It’s too late for that, Mark. You violated me. Your brother violated me. I’m a fool for not going to the police, but I want Oliver free and to be done with you forever. And if I hear of you doing this again, I will make sure you spend the rest of your life as someone else’s bitch. Come on, Lulu.”

My feet start moving as soon as hers do. Mark doesn’t make a move. He stands completely still as his eyes follow our movement until he’s behind us. Zoey strides out of the apartment with her head held just as high as it was when we walked in.

“You were amazing in there,” I say to her. “I’m so proud of you.”

She doesn’t reply as she continues down the path to the driveway and then the short walk to the car. Once we’re inside my SUV, she lets out a long breath. “Fuck. That was…” Suddenly, she starts to hyperventilate and pitches forward, putting her head between her knees.

I reach a hand over, rubbing her back. “You’re okay,” I tell her as I try to console her while she works through all the emotions that I can’t fully comprehend. “You were amazing in there,” I repeat because I don’t think she heard me the first time.

“I was a mess,” she says between rushed breaths.

“I couldn’t tell, and he couldn’t either. You were powerful. If I were him, I would’ve absolutely shat myself.”

She turns her head and peers up at me, raising an eyebrow. “Shat?”

I shrug as I still my hand. “I’ve always liked how that word sounds.”

She bursts into a fit of giggles. “You’re so weird. ”

I’m happy my weirdness can change the mood. She can call me whatever she wants as long as she stops freaking out and her breathing returns to normal.

“Ready to go home?” I ask her as I pull my hand away from her and place it on the steering wheel.

“I could use a drink.”

“You come up with the best ideas.” I push the button on the dashboard, firing up the engine.

“After that, I could use a few shots of tequila to settle my nerves.”

“You got it, sis,” I tell her, putting my fancy SUV with so much horsepower we could get there in a few minutes if the speed limit were higher into gear. “Two tequilas coming right up.”

“Three,” she corrects, earning a smile from me.

A half hour later, we slide onto two stools at the bar, ready to drink away the stress.

“Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in,” Brax says as he throws a dish towel over his shoulder. “You two out looking for trouble?”

“Already did it, and now, we need to unwind,” I tell him, drumming my fingernails on the wood.

“Tequila?” he asks, knowing us so damn well, but I wouldn’t expect anything less since we grew up together and caused more trouble than any of us will ever fully admit to anyone outside our circle.

“Bring four shots,” Zoey says before he has a chance to reach for the glasses .

His eyebrows shoot up. “Must’ve been a doozy.”

“That’s putting it mildly,” I say to him as he sets four shot glasses on the bar.

“This have to do with Oliver?” Brax stares at me as he grabs the bottle of tequila and starts to pour.

“A little.”

He sucks in air between his teeth. “Shit is messed up.”

“What do you know about it?” Zoey asks our cousin.

“I heard someone did something to someone in our family, and Oliver took care of the guy,” Brax answers.

“That all you know?” Zoey asks.

Brax nods. “It’s all cryptic. I could use more specifics, but it’s a need-to-know basis and I guess I don’t need to know.”

“It was me,” Zoey admits as she wraps her fingers around one of the shot glasses. “He was protecting me.”

Brax stiffens and straightens. “You could’ve come to me, Zo.”

“Why?” she asks, slamming back the tequila as Brax and I watch her. She doesn’t even wince. “So you could’ve been the one arrested instead?”

“Well… I…”

“Oliver was there when Zoey came to my place, Brax. We didn’t keep you out of the loop on purpose, but I’m glad you’re not involved. ”

“I’ve always helped,” he replies.

I roll my eyes as I grab a shot glass. “Only a man would be upset that he didn’t get to help and be arrested.”

Brax gives me the middle finger.

“I know you always have our back, cousin,” Zoey says to him, touching his hand that’s resting on the bar. “I promise I didn’t keep it from you on purpose.”

“As long as you know I’m here.” He smiles at my sister, always wanting to be the hero.

“It’s not like we could forget,” I tease, sticking out my tongue at him when he looks my direction.

Zoey reaches for the second shot before I’m over the burn of my first.

“Feel better?” I ask her.

“Totally.” She smiles, lifting the glass to her lips.

“Do I want to know?” Brax asks, ignoring the regulars who are staring in our direction because they need refills.

“You don’t,” I tell him, tipping my chin toward the other end of the bar. “Looks like you have some thirsty customers.”

“Fuck,” he mutters, peeling away from us.

“He’s nosy,” I tell Zoey.

“We all are,” she says and chuckles. “It’s our family curse.”

“Is it, though?”

She grabs a tiny red straw from the container and sticks it in her mouth. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. And hey, for as much as everyone talks, Brax didn’t have all the details about what happened with Oliver and Mark.”

“True,” I whisper. I don’t know how that tidbit of information didn’t work its way down the family chain.

“I’m sure Dad didn’t want anyone knowing anything unless I said it was okay. It’s not the kind of information you share.”

“You’re right,” I say to her, grabbing the bottle of tequila to refill her glass. “More?”

“I think we better pace ourselves.”

I giggle. “Seriously?”

“What?” she asks with a straight face.

“You’ve already had two. You’re not pacing shit.”

She moves quickly, taking the bottle from my hand. “We can switch to margaritas instead.” She gets up and stalks around the bar. “Strawberry or classic?”

“Strawberry with sugar on the rim.”

“You’re so girlie,” she says to me as she begins working her magic.

My sister has many skills, and making a margarita is one of them. We all have our specialty. That comes from growing up in a bar our family owns. I’m more of a martini girl, knowing all kinds to fit all tastes.

A minute later, she hands me a perfectly mixed strawberry margarita. “Sip slowly,” she says to me like I’m the one downing alcohol like it’s water .

I lift my glass as she grabs her classic on the rocks. “To girl power.”

“Girl power,” she says, clinking her glass with mine.

But before I can take a sip, my stomach twists.

When Oliver finds out what we did…

I place the glass against my lips, deciding to drink the worry away and deal with it all tomorrow.