Page 33 of Painkiller (Sin Records #3)

A ll the work I just spent getting Poppy relaxed evaporates like rain on hot asphalt the second she sees the very pissed club owner outside our door.

Tension pulls her spine upward like her puppet strings have been pulled.

Panic dances in her hazel eyes as she glances over her shoulder with fearful accusation.

She thinks he’s here for her. He’s not, but her worry twists something in my chest. I squeeze her shoulders, shaking my head. She doesn’t see or doesn’t care.

So I lower my mouth to her ear. To let her know he’s not here for her or what we did, but rather what I did before we got back here. It’s no use though.

Before I can stop her, she rushes out the door. “Please don’t fire me,” she pleads as she grips his arms. “I swear it will never happen again. Please, I need this job.”

Dark warning narrows on where she grips him as his thick brows dip, but it’s my chest that’s rumbling, the fucking irrational jealousy returning because she’s touching him. I choke it down and take a breath. I’ve got to get that shit under control.

Before she can shove her foot further into her mouth, I wrap my arm around her waist, pulling her away from him. That’s how I rationalize it anyway.

My reward is her struggle to get away as her anxiety turns to anger. “What are you doing? Haven’t you done enough? I have a job to save.”

I swallow another growl. The girl might be a fighter, willing to do almost anything to survive, but damn does she crack under pressure. Not to mention, react instead of think. Come to think of it, it’s probably why she’s working here in the first place. Desperate people do desperate things.

“Calm down, you little psycho,” I mumble in her ear before more word vomit spews from her desperate lips while lifting my hand to tap her mask. “That’s not why he’s here.” When I look at him, the stony motherfucker raises a brow. “Or it wasn’t,” I mutter because, yep…no fooling him now.

She stops squirming, her fingers brushing the mask.

Heat penetrates the thin cotton of my shirt she’s wearing, her body heating from embarrassment.

“Shit,” she hisses. Long copper strands tickle my abs as she looks back and forth between us.

Scarlet burst across her pale cheeks as she inhales deeply.

“I-uh…” She jerks a thumb. “I’ll just go back to work now,” she says, voice high with embarrassment, eyes flicking to mine.

“Nah. You’re done for the night.” I don’t bother pretending I don’t know her since she’s given us away.

“I need the money,” she hisses, then drops her voice lower. “Why do you keep forgetting that?”

“Don’t worry. You just earned plenty.” I made sure of it because there’s no way she’s going back out there. She bristles, and I know if Dominic weren’t standing right there, she’d slap me again.

“He’s right. Get dressed. Your night is finished.” Dom’s command booms against the walls. He doesn’t leave any more room for argument than I did, but do you think that stops her?

Her sharp intake of air is all the warning I need of her impending argument.

Pinching her chin between my fingers, I tug her face toward mine, dropping until our lips almost touch.

I make a point to catch Dom’s attention.

The ticking muscle in his jaw tells me he knows what I’m doing, too. “Get dressed. Meet me at my car.”

“Going home with you isn’t allowed, sir,” she huffs, still trying to deny we know each other despite knowing the gig is up.

If it weren’t so funny, I’d be pissed.

This time, I press my lips to her for a breath, smiling when she gasps and freezes, not expecting the display in front of Dominic. “You can drop the pretense, Halfpint. You already gave us away, remember?”

Her lashes flutter with defeat. “Right. Yeah. Changing room.” She jerks her head toward the changing rooms. “Yeah.”

Allowing her to pull away, I can’t stop myself from swiping my tongue over my lips as a hungry, frustrated growl builds.

“You,” Dominic booms, forcing me to stop watching her ass as she makes her escape.

When I face him, his eyes give nothing away, but they don’t need to.

The moment I opened the door and found him leaning against the wall, I knew he saw me attack the douchebag on the floor.

He’s pissed I broke the club rules. Poppy giving us away probably made it worse, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.

“Follow me.” He spins on his Italian soles, heading toward an office he has on this floor.

A few minutes later, the lock to the closet-sized office is clicked. This is when most people start sweating as panic sets in. Fear of Dominic Luchesse takes over.

Good or bad, I don’t know, but I’m too stupid to be afraid of him. I’m not stupid. I don’t try to get on his bad side, but it’s not out of fear. Or even self-preservation.

Tonight, I already know I’m on his bad side. I broke the rules. But I’m still riding the high I get from Poppy. It’s increased tenfold since I felt her tight cunt choke my dick.

Her cries, the way she screamed my name…how she begged me to stop while demanding more…

Fuck.

I told her I would ruin her, but it was I who was destroyed.

I wish I’d let her touch me. I wanted to, but when she tried, instinct took over, and I stopped her.

Pain erupts in my temple out of nowhere. The loud thump rings in my ears when I look down, then bend over to pick up the book lying at my feet. I look across the room and find Will glowering at me. Double-teamed. Fantastic. “The fuck is wrong with you,” I bark, rubbing the spot the book hit.

“Me?” His nostrils flare as exasperation creates lines in his forehead. “You’re joking, right?”

“Enough.” Dominic’s stern voice rips through the room. “Would you like to explain why you assaulted my customer? Do you know the money you cost me?”

I tip my chin up, sniffing with disdain. “None. I just spent ten grand in that room. That pussy ass little bitch wouldn’t have spent half that.”

“Dammit, Jagger,” Will hisses as Dominic crosses the room in a breath.

His fingers wrap around my jacket as he backs me into the wall, slamming me hard enough to make my already ringing ears ring louder.

“That little bitch you flattened? He has something I want. And now, thanks to you, I’ve lost two weeks of negotiations. ”

“If it’s taking weeks, you might want to re-examine your tactics, Dom.”

A harsh burst of air is expelled through my mouth when a fist lands in my stomach. “Listen to me you little shit. You know what I’ve done for less. The only reason you are still breathing right now is because my brother asked me not to.”

“Is this where I beg because we might be here a while.” Antagonizing him isn’t wise, but I won’t beg. Not Dominic, not anyone. Not for anything. I promised myself a long time ago that it wouldn’t happen ever again. Besides, men like Dominic don’t respect it.

His jaw works back and forth for a moment, eyes narrowed in contemplation. “No. I suppose you wouldn’t.” He releases me, smoothing my jacket as he does, then steps back. “But you will fight for me. Against Ilya.”

I should not be fucking giddy at the idea of fighting the massive Russian. I’m not a small guy, but Ilya has several inches and fifty pounds on me. Possibly more. His win-loss record is impeccable. His technique? Deadly.

But my lips twitch with excitement.

“And you will not lose.”

“When?”

“The night before Christmas Eve.”

“Done.” I jerk my head in agreement, then turn to leave.

“I’m not done with you.” Of course, he isn’t.

That would be too goddamn easy. Tongue tucked into my teeth, I turn back around to see what else he wants, already having a sneaking suspicion.

“Why are you attacking my clientele over a piece of ass when I have an entire club full of whores to choose from?”

He’s baiting me. I know he is. And I take it like any dumb animal, slamming my palms against his chest harder than necessary, forcing him back several steps. “She is not a fucking whore,” I spit between clenched teeth.

His expression remains cold, completely unfazed by my outburst. I’ll look back tomorrow and realize I’m lucky to still be breathing, but right now? Right now, he could hold a gun to my head, and I’d still punch him in the face.

“She works in my club.” He’s so fucking matter of fact about it, I’m moving toward him. Will pushes away from his corner, coming to me, and grabs my arm.

“The 7th Circle.” I point at him, growling. “She’s supposed to be only in 7th Circle.”

“But she came here to work 1st Circle.”

My jaw aches from grinding my teeth. Fury—jealousy wraps around me, strangling to the point of suffocation. The monsters in my head scream at me to put him down.

It’s worse than the guy who touched her and makes less sense. Nothing fucking makes sense anymore.

I don’t understand why the hell she is under my skin, but I’m not willing to dig her out.

“Why would you care about a girl you know nothing about when just last week you left Slippery with two other girls?” he asks, continuing to poke at the wound he’s created.

“Cut the shit,” I hiss, shaking Will’s grip. “You know that we know each other.” I jerk my head at the man next to me, who seems just as angry as I am. “Same way he does. Because you don’t know how to mind your own fucking business.”

“Knowing about who works for me is my business. I know she lives alone, has a twin sister, and owes the bank a lot of money. And her dad is a piece of shit.” He walks across the room, unbuttons his jacket as he sits in the chair behind the dingy desk, kicking his feet up.

“But the question remains. Why do you care?”

I throw my hands in the air, frustrated with how the conversation turned, wondering why it matters before my brain snags. “What do you know about her dad?”

“Enough to know he doesn’t deserve free oxygen.”

“Care to elaborate?”

“Sure. As soon as you do.”