Page 82 of Reaper and Ruin

Nyah might have hated her parents, and they might have been deep in the criminal underworld, but they weren’t the same level of twisted that we’d been dealing with the last few weeks.

But even that wasn’t the thing on my mind.

I was going to a gay club and I had no idea what the fuck I was supposed to do about Whip.

I yanked off the ridiculous outfit and jogged across the store to catch up with him at the door. “I’m coming with you to search for shirts without holes.”

Violet waved us out the door. “We’ll catch up. X wants coffee.”

Whip squinted at him. “You really need the caffeine? You’ve been bouncing off the walls all afternoon.”

He rolled his eyes. “Sheesh, I’ll get decaf, okay?” Then he grinned. “With a shot of Red Bull!”

“Please don’t let him do that,” I said to Violet, watching X twerk in the mirror of the store, so his skirt flipped up and down at the back, flashing the entire room with every jerk of his ass.

She hid a smile and tucked her arm into X’s. “Come on, let’s go find you a nice cup of herbal tea. And some underwear.”

“Okay, but I’m only agreeing to a G-string. My ass looks too good in this to cover it up.”

“I fear we’ve released a beast,” I muttered to Whip as we walked out onto the street lined with boutique shops.

“Let’s just hope there’s no stages or platforms for him to dance on.”

I wrinkled my nose at the idea of staring up at X’s balls beneath a too-short skirt while he danced on a stage. “Is that what this club is going to be like? Psychos but for guys?”

Whip shrugged. “Women can go too. And I doubt anyone will be having full-blown sex in gold cages like there is at Psychos, but I guess its normally a similar sort of vibe.”

I side-eyed him. “You’ve been to clubs like this?”

He shrugged. “Sure. With clients. Not exactly where I’d spend all my weekends, but I’ve been to a few.”

I turned away, wishing I hadn’t asked. Because now all I could think about was Whip at a club, surrounded by hot men.

Maybe it wasn’t like Psychos where they’d have sex right then and there.

But how long had it taken them to move out into a dark alley where they could be alone? How long had it taken for them to call a taxi to go back to a hotel?

The jealousy that coursed through me was thick and hard and all-consuming. I followed him into another store and grumpily yanked at shirts on a rack, barely noticing the color or size of them, when all I could see in my head was Whip gyrating with other guys, their lips and hands all over him.

Whip’s gaze followed me around the store, while I tried to ignore it.

Eventually, he sighed and touched my hand. “You want to talk about what’s on your mind, or you just want to tear up one of those shirts right now and get some of that aggression out?”

I yanked my fingers away, irrationally pissed with him because of the visions in my mind.

Whip didn’t miss it. The way I’d recoiled from his touch.

He pressed his lips together and nodded, like he understood exactly what my problem was. Anger flashed in his eyes. “Right. I get it now.” He grabbed the closest shirt and yanked it off the rack. “Don’t worry, I get the message loud and clear.”

Unless he could see the parade of made-up images of Whip with other men in my mind, that was driving me insane, I was pretty sure he had no idea what was going on. And it was too fucking embarrassing to admit.

Which only pissed me off all the more. I was mad at him for things he’d done before we’d even met.

I was fucking insane.

He shoved the shirt toward the clerk, but his gaze was on me, his eyes burning. “You don’t have to worry. I’m not going to ask you to hold my hand as we walk in so the whole club knows we’re together.”

I scoffed. “Of course not. Because this is just another opportunity for you, isn’t it? Maybe a chance to pick up some new clients? Earn some more money? Go fuck a hot guy in some dark corner and have him shove a hundred in your pocket for the privilege?”