Page 50 of Shades of Ruin (Sharp Edges Duet #2)
Chapter Thirty-Five
GREYSON
C ollette is gone, her life ripped away in the most horrible manner imaginable.
I feel the bile rise in my throat as I stare at the body of one of my oldest friends lying on the ground.
Her ribcage is exposed, bits of flesh and muscle torn away from the pale, curved bones.
Her chest is slashed to ribbons, blood splattered across her neck and cheeks.
Even in death, she’s still beautiful—her soft, raven black hair fanned out above her shoulders, her cheeks stained pink, her lips the same color crimson she’s worn since she found out red was my weakness.
Collette was the first girl I ever whipped.
It was the first time I’d ever explored an erotic club, and that night I discovered a darker side of myself that’s stuck around ever since.
She helped cultivate my sadism and turn it into something that could bring pleasure, too.
She was one of the people who saved me after everything that happened in Paris.
And even though we stopped satisfying each other’s physical needs, she’s always been by my side.
When I finally tear my eyes away from what’s left of Collette’s mangled body, I’m met with an even more disturbing sight—Angélica’s hands covered in my friend’s blood. It’s the first time in my life that red has looked garish and vile, and I wish I could wipe its ugly stain from her hands.
I don’t even consider whether my angel could have committed such a terrible act of violence.
I know she doesn’t have this kind of hatred in her blood, no matter the sparring she and Collette would get into at the restaurant.
Whoever did this is cruel, merciless, and truly evil.
The cops shouldn’t be looking at Angélica; they should be looking for someone who is more like me .
“Everyone, stay calm,” Finn’s stern voice reverberates across the room. “What happened to Collette is an unimaginable tragedy, and we are all shocked and dealing with a lot of volatile emotions right now.”
Ha, for Finn, any emotion is volatile.
“The police have been called,” he continues. “They’ll be here soon. And we are going to let them do their jobs. If anyone feels uncomfortable being involved in a police investigation in their current state, go put some fucking clothes on.”
A few laughs scatter across the room, but Finn glares the crowd into silence. “No one goes near that body until evidence has been collected. If any of you try to leave before the cops show up, your membership will be revoked indefinitely. Security is stationed at the door, so don’t even risk it.”
Chaos erupts in Hell as everyone scurries to make themselves look as presentable and innocent as possible when the police come to raid a kink club with a mutilated corpse on the floor.
Of course fucking Finn called the police.
It isn’t his girlfriend’s hands covered in blood.
His glacial blue eyes level at Angélica, and my body goes tense, bracing for a fight.
I wrap my arms around Angélica’s waist and hold her tight, making sure everyone knows they won’t be taking her away from me without having hell to pay.
“I’d tell you to go wash that blood off your hands, but in light of how many people have already seen you, I think that’d make you look even more guilty at this point,” Finn drawls with a nonchalant condescension that makes me want to punch his pretty face.
Angélica’s entire body goes stiff against me, and I can feel a slight tremor in her legs.
She’s scared, but I’ve told her no one is allowed to own her fear but me.
I press my thumbs on either side of her spine and rub them up and down her back, forcing the tension and anxiety to fade.
I heave a sigh of relief when she relaxes into my touch like the good, obedient girl she is.
“I’m going to ask this once,” Finn says, refusing to release my girl from his gaze. “Given the fact that you’re with Greyson, I’m going to choose to believe your answer in spite of the glaring evidence that condemns you already.”
Who knew that associating with me was a glowing recommendation of virtue? Maybe Finn is more of a softie than I realized. Or he has a chef kink that’s just now coming to the surface.
“Did you kill her?” He’s brave enough to ask what I couldn’t bring myself to question, and that earns him a few points for guts alone. Especially considering there’s a good chance I’ll pummel him for it.
“N-no. I could never,” Angélica answers, a deep sadness in her voice. “She and I didn’t get along at work, but she didn’t deserve this. No innocent does.”
Finn nods as if he expected her reply. “That’s what I thought.
I assume whoever did this used the cover of darkness to either stage the body or kill and dispose of her here.
That shows strategy and precision. For the flames to flicker on and reveal you covered in blood, that doesn’t match with the killer’s cautious, meticulous methods. ”
He looks between Angélica and the body. “Seeing that all signs seem to mark you as a suspect, in my book, that makes you the least likely person to have done this.”
“That’s a relief,” she sighs as she starts to relax more. “How exactly do you know so much about the methods and strategy of a killer? Are you a true crime junkie?”
“Hardly,” Finn scoffs. “We’ve all killed, but we make a point to do it only when necessary.”
Angélica’s pretty face scrunches up as she blinks at him. “I’m confused. Is this some kind of kinky mafia?”
“Something like that,” Finn chuckles, and Ashford and I roll our eyes at the same time.
I can tell Kara is bursting at the seams beside Ashford, and the second she opens her mouth, I know why. “You guys—she’s one of us now. Stringing her along with vague answers while you hoard your own secrets makes you all look like twats,” Kara chides with a stomp of her stiletto.
When we all damn ourselves with silence, Kara starts pointing fingers, prepared to out all of us as the assholes we are.
“Finn’s uncle is a high-ranking member of the Irish mob,” Kara says with a withering glance at the tall, blonde man beside her.
“Finn and his brother Cillian are expected to start pulling their weight in the Chicago syndicate before one of them is chosen to replace their Uncle Finnegan when the time comes.”
“Cade,” Kara looks up at her fiancé with a mixture of adoration and treachery, “is a notorious antiquities thief who’s been stealing treasures from museums and private collections for years without ever being caught.
Many of his clients are also high-ranking mafia members, and he has a personal relationship with the Yakuza in Los Angeles.
Remember when that Monet went missing from the art institute in Chicago? That was him.”
I have to hand it to her, Kara has some balls throwing Lord Ashford into the fire like that. I imagine she’ll be paying for it later. And the menacing look on his face tells me it’ll be sooner rather than later.
“And Grey here?—”
Oh fuck me .
“—butchered a man in Paris and served his body parts as sausages to win an elite cooking competition at one of the most prestigious restaurants in France.”
I feel Angélica jolt as my dirty little secret is revealed, and I wince at the thought of unraveling all those details from ten years ago. Kara claps her hands like she just spilled the hottest tea and everyone should be proud. I think we all are a little, even if it is begrudgingly.
“Jesus, Kara,” Finn sighs. “What’s the point of dragging all of this out into the open right now?
“The point, Finnian Holt, is that every single one of you has blood on your hands. Now stop acting like saints, grow some damn balls, and help Angélica get the fuck out of this mess.” Kara crosses her arms over her chest and glares us all down.
“I think you’re forgetting yourself, love,” Ashford scolds with his expression as impassive as stone, even when his tone is soft.
“No, I think you’re forgetting that this ring,” she waves her left hand in front of his face, the large, diamond-encrusted ruby in the center catching the light of the flames, “isn’t permanent yet. So if you want it to stay on my finger, go get your lawyer on the phone.”
“I hope you know you’re in very big trouble when we get back to the manor,” Ashford whispers against Kara’s ear, the deep rumble of his voice still loud enough for us to hear.
“And I fully intend on enjoying every minute of it,” she snaps back, planting a kiss on his cheek before he hurries to find a quiet spot for a phone call to the best lawyer in the city.
“I’ll never understand how you two make it work,” Finn says with an amused shake of his head, his eyes lingering on Ashford as he leaves.
“Good communication and a fuck-ton of sex,” Kara answers without needing to think. It’s clear from the wide grin on her face that she is more than satisfied in the sex department.
“Ashford never met a problem he couldn’t solve with his cock,” Finn laughs.
A notification dings on his phone, and he looks down with a grimace.
Suddenly, we’re all reminded of the horrible incident that started this conversation.
“Cops are here. I’ve got to go play host. You coming, kitten?
” he asks, holding out his hand to Kara.
“Never thought I’d play hostess to a murder investigation,” she sighs as she places her hand in his. She turns back to look at me and Angélica. “Hang in there, you two. We’ll get it all sorted out.”
“There won’t be any way to get around answering a few questions while the police are here.
If you refuse until you have a lawyer present, their guard will be up higher than ever,” Finn warns, and I almost think he cares.
“Give them something, but not too much. Collette was your employee, and Angélica is your girlfriend, so it’s likely you’ll both be implicated. ”
We’re all refusing to bring up the fact that I came under suspicion the last time a girl in this city was discovered murdered and heartless. We all know my name is already on their goddamn list.
“Fucking cops,” I hiss.
“Maybe let her go a little so you don’t look like a possessive psycho? And wash the victim’s blood off your cock, Greyson,” Finn offers in advice before he and Kara head to the front of the club.