Sexy as Sin

“Yes I am,” I shoot back. I push his hand away.

He’s fucking crazy if he thinks we can just drive away and no one will tell. They know who he is and who I am. I have to fix this. I push all my weight against Cillian, screaming, look what you did, he seems to snap out of it, only slightly. Enough that I can rip the door open, a bell chiming far too sweetly for the moment.

I have to do something. I can’t let him go to jail again. I can’t.

The cashier’s eyes are wide as I rush up to the checkout. Cill’s presence isn’t helping anything. He stalks behind me, his hand bleeding. I put both hands on the countertop and swallow thickly.

“Listen to me. Please.” My voice is shaken. “I need you to do something for me. I know you have security cameras. I need you to delete the last few minutes of footage. The last ten minutes. That’s all I need.”

“I can’t do that.” Her head shakes as she looks from me to Cill with genuine fear.

“It’s right behind you,” I say as I point and then tell her, “The guy who owns that car hurt a woman in our club years ago. Please.” Hearing Cillian move behind me, I turn to see his hand run down the back of his head as he looks out of the doors.

When I look back at the cashier, a young woman, younger than me even with a high ponytail and wide eyes, I beg her, “Please.”

“I don’t want to get in trouble,” she whispers and Cillian’s tone of regret can be heard behind me, reality setting in.

“Please,” I repeat.

“He went to jail for me, and he can’t go back.” I suck in a breath, panic setting in. We need to get out of here before Duncan Tray gets here. It’s already been too long. Minutes have passed. Cops will be here soon. Fuck. Fuck.

She opens her mouth, and I just know she’s not going to do it.

“Please,” I beg again. “Look at me and try to understand. I just need this one thing from you, and I promise you, it’ll mean the world to me. It would be everything to me if you deleted this footage.”

She swallows thickly. “There are two other stores,” she says hesitantly. “I’d have to call around and ask them to do the same thing.”

“Do they like you?”

“What?”

“The other people at the stores. Do they like you enough to do it?”

She nods.

“Cill, give me your wallet.” My hand shakes as I hold it out to him. I’m praying that nobody else walks in right now. I just need to get us both the hell out of here. Quickly.

Cill digs in his pocket and hands me his wallet. I open it and take out all the cash, sliding it across the countertop to the girl. It’s a decent wad. There’s got to be a few hundred there.

“Please call them,” I say urgently, shoving it across the counter and glancing back at the two cars, one fucked up and then mine which still has the driver’s door open. My chest heaves with my chaotic breathing.

She bites her lip and glances out at the pumps. All the while, madness bristles through me.

She disappears into the back room.

“I’m sorry, Hellcat,” Cill manages the moment she’s gone. My broken man stands by the doors like he knows this is the end.

“I’ll fix this. I promise,” I tell him with desperation although I can already feel him slipping away. His temper has always gotten the better of him.

Always.

“The last ten minutes didn’t happen.” I hear her before I hear the door swing open.

Relief floods through me at the same time that I hear sirens wail in the distance.

“I’ll call them,” she tells me as she reaches for the phone and her face pales. “The cops are going to come here. What do I tell them? The other stores are one thing, but I don’t know about the cops.”

I look her straight in the eye. “Tell them it was four guys in a Chevy. You got it? Four guys in a Chevy got out, wrecked the car, and drove off.”

“I don’t know …”

“The club will have your back.” I’m gambling huge by saying this. I’m not part of that group anymore, but I’ll go back to them if I have to. “You know who I’m talking about?”

“You sure about that?” she questions, her eyes darting outside.

“I’m sure.”

“Okay.” She gives me a fast nod. “I got it. Go before they get here.”

“Thank you,” I barely get out before taking Cill’s hand and tugging him toward the door.

“Fuck, Hellcat,” he says, realization of what he risked in his voice. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Come on.” We break into a jog outside the gas station. I run around and get into the car on the driver’s side. My fingernail catches on the mechanism to adjust the seat and breaks. Cill slides in next to me and I put my foot on the gas. Blue and red lights are just barely seen in the rearview mirror.