Page 2 of Sinners’ Appetite

I can’t believe I actually wore a white t-shirt tonight. I hate these stupid wet t-shirt contests, but damn, the tips I get are enough to take a small vacation—so fuck it.

It’s already eight-forty, which means the DJ is going to announce the event any time now and at least twenty women will line up on stage, waiting to be soaked with the water hoses. I’m sure glad I don’t have to clean up afterwards.

“Nikki!” I hear my boss, Jeff, call out to me as I pour a round of shots for the customers on the other side of the bar.

I turn to face him and he has a devious smile on his face. “Yeah?” I reply.

“Are you finally going up on stage tonight?” he asks.

I shake my head. “Fuck that,” I snicker, turning back around to slide the shots toward the customers.

“You should,” he says, grinning from ear to ear. “I’ll give you a bonus if you do.”

“Oh yeah? What kind of bonus are we talking? Hundreds?” I chuckle.

“Let’s just say—I’ll make it worth while.”

“And who would be over here serving these fine people their alcohol?” I tease.

It’s way too easy to flirt with Jeff. He’s hot as fuck and I’ve always had a little crush on him, to be completely honest. He’s well over six feet tall, works out religiously and could probably bench press a fucking elephant.

I can only imagine the things that man is capable of doing to someone my size.

I’m not skinny, by any means, but I know he could toss me around like a rag-doll no problem.

“Lance is around here somewhere—he could serve solo for a while,” he suggests.

I roll my eyes and grab a new bottle of tequila off the shelf behind me. “Yeah—I don’t think so…”

“Oh, come on. Just this once?” he practically begs.

I turn back around, loading the bottle into the dispenser. But when I look to my left, the bottle nearly slips from my hand when I notice who’s sitting at the bar, staring me down.

“Fuck…” I whisper under my breath as our eyes meet.

It’s my ex’s brother, Justin. I know he’s only here for one thing.

Me .

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” I look all around me, hoping to spot Lance somewhere close.

When I don’t see him, I head into the back, assuming that he’s probably stocking the shelves or something in the kitchen.

“Lance?!” I call out when I don’t see him right away.

“Yeah?” I hear him reply.

“I need you at the bar. Trouble in paradise…”

He comes out from behind the shelf and shoots me a look of concern. “What’s going on?”

“Justin. Remember, my ex’s insane brother I was telling you about last week? He’s here and I’m not going near him,” I explain.

“Want me to get rid of him?” he asks, aggressively stepping forward as if he’s prepared to go out there and fight him.

“He hasn’t done anything yet, but I don’t want to give him the chance to.”

“Understood. I’ll follow you out.”

We both walk out to the bar and Justin stares me down as I unload the glasses from below the counter, slowly placing them in a tray one by one.

“What can I get you?” I hear Lance ask him.

“I need to speak to Nikki,” Justin replies. I can still feel his eyes burning straight through me.

“She’s busy. What can I get you?”

“I’ll wait until she’s done.”

“Well, either you order something, or step away from the bar so we can serve other customers,” Lance warns.

“No need to be hostile. I just need to talk to her, that’s all.”

“I’m afraid that’s not possible.”

I look up long enough to see the angered expression on Justin’s face as he stands up. “I guess I’ll have to wait until she’s done,” he says before walking off into the crowd of people on the dance floor.

I breathe a sigh of relief, lifting up on the tray of glasses to place them with the others under the counter.

“I don’t fucking trust that guy,” Lance says, clearing the shot glasses from the bar and loading them into the dishwasher.

“I don’t either. I wish he would just leave me alone.”

“Let me know if he tries anything again. I’ll have Jeff toss his ass out.”

Lance heads into the back again while I take a few orders. A few minutes later, the club goes silent as the DJ announces the wet t-shirt contest. As usual, at least twenty women in white t-shirts walk up on stage.

“You sure you don’t wanna go up?” I hear Jeff say as he walks up behind me.

“Positive.” I chuckle, spinning around to shoot him a glare. Just then, Sammi and Jeremy walk up to the bar, followed by a man I don’t recognize.

“Girl! You actually did it!” Sammi hollers out, referring to my white t-shirt.

I let out a laugh. “Well—I’m staying dry tonight.”

“Not if we drag your ass up there,” Jeremy teases.

I shoot him a glare. “What can I get for you?”

“The usual,” he replies, turning toward the guy they walked in with. “You okay with tequila?”

“I’m good, actually. I don’t really care for hard liquor,” the man says.

Fuck. This guy is hot as fuck. He’s about as tall as Jeff is, but much bulkier. His tattooed arms barely fit into the shirt he’s wearing and it’s making my clit throb.

“Oh—this is Malachi, by the way. He’s new to the city,” Jeremy introduces. “Malachi—this is Nikki.”

I nod my head in his direction. “Nice to meet you. Where did you move from?”

“Ohio.”

“Oh?” I pour the shots and slide them in front of Jeremy. “How are you liking the city so far?”

“I just got here this morning,” he replies.

“He’s leasing the old paint studio,” Sammi mentions.

“Nice! I always thought that place had potential! What are your plans with it?”

He rests his elbows on the bar. “I’m in the photography business. I’m setting it up as my studio.”

“That’s awesome!” Just as the words leave my mouth, I look over Sammi’s shoulder and see Justin exiting the club. Finally .

A few hours pass by and the contest comes to an end, which means, I can start cleaning up my side of the bar and head home for the night. We only stay open until twelve and Jeff has a different crew hired for cleanup.

Sammi and Jeremy return to the bar to let me know they’re leaving but I don’t see Malachi with them anymore. I’m sure he found someone to entertain him for the night. Sammi is plastered and somehow has someone else’s shirt on now. She’s a lush and I fucking love her for it.

Once I’m done cleaning up, I let Jeff and Lance know that I’m leaving and grab my bag from the staff room.

“Hey! Do you need me to walk you to your car?” Lance asks before I head out the back door.

“Nah. I should be fine,” I reply. “Thanks though.”

With that, I head out the door with my keys in my hand. It’s dark as fuck back here, so I take my phone out of my pocket and turn on my flashlight. The last thing I need is to trip over something and knock myself out.

I start walking toward my car when I hear something behind me. When I turn to see where the sound came from, I see nothing but a dark figure standing right behind me with something in their hands. A fucking metal pipe.

I should have let Lance walk me out. Fuck.

“Please! I have money, just fucking take it!” I exclaim, reaching into my bag for the wad of cash I have from my tips tonight.

“I don’t want your fucking money, Nikki…”

Justin. He’s been waiting for me this whole time.

Before I can say a word, he motions toward me, lifting the pipe up and swinging it at me before I can duck out of the way.

A surge of pain like nothing I’ve ever felt before hits me all at once and I fall to my knees, unable to make a single sound as my vision starts to fade. Suddenly, I feel extremely tired and can no longer keep my eyes open, despite the agonizing pain shooting through my head.

I can’t believe this is happening. I know better than to come out here alone.

My eyes flicker open one more time before they close again and I see someone else approaching quickly, also dressed in dark clothing.

Justin must have had someone else with him.

I’m fucked.