Bane (Sinners of Saint 4)

I vaguely remembered the furry dirtball from the playground. She’d clutched him into her chest like he was her newborn baby, even though he was kind of big.

“Okay. Let’s go.” I cocked my head to one of the many paths of the maze. She looked up, and there was hope in her eyes.

“You’ll come with me?”

Her gratitude depressed me. What role did her parents play in her life, other than trying to get her to have a job so she could leave their home?

I shrugged. “I’m not meeting my evening piece till nine.”

I didn’t know why I said it. Well, actually, I did. I said it because I needed to remember it. Because Jesse Carter was a project, not a goddamn date. But that still didn’t explain why I scanned her face for emotional clues. And definitely didn’t explain why I fucking hated not finding any.

“Okay, so we better hurry. I know a way out of here that’s not through the entrance.” She quirked her lips up in a lopsided grin. My logic flew out the window around the same second. That was a new expression on her face. A leftover from her former self, was my guess.

“Follow me.” She motioned with her hand.

My eyes clung to her ass, and I was no longer chasing her.

No, I was hunting her.

Waiting on her.

Knowing the pounce would never come.

Knowing no amount of tall stacks was going to make up for the damage I was about to create.

“LET ME GO GRAB SHADOW’S leash.”

Remember those words, because they were the ones leading to a shitshow of epic proportions, sponsored by Pam Morgansen, directed by yours-fucking-truly.

Here’s how it happened: I stood in the foyer next to the oldest dog in the world. Not an exaggeration. Shadow flashed me a tired I-don’t-trust-your-ass glare, and I answered him with an I-wouldn’t-trust-my-ass-either smirk. It was the first time I visited her house in daylight, and it was luxurious, silent and empty. It was like putting a designer dress on a corpse. Beautifully depressing. I scanned the huge paintings on the walls and tried not to think about the fact that Jesse thought that I smelled good. Usually, I didn’t give a shit. That’s not to say I smelled like it. But I wasn’t used to making an effort.

Anyway, I was trying not to think about that moment in the maze. Instead, I focused on how Shadow’s breath smelled eerily similar to a dead body. Not a good sign. I heard rustling from the kitchen’s direction. My ears perked. If Darren saw me here, he’d see the progress I’d made with Jesse. Only it wasn’t Darren. It was, or should I say that was, a human Barbie doll.

The lady of the manor.

Her hair was too bleached, her skin too tanned, too leathery, too much. Her blue eyes were vacant. An overpainted marionette with the strings cut off. Pretty, but hollow in all the important places. She wore wedge shoes and a bright green caftan. Her fake tan was the exact shade of a KFC chicken thigh.

“A stranger in the house.” Barbie slid her sunglasses down, gasping theatrically, but it was flirtatious. “I’m Pam. And you are?”

Not interested.

“Roman.” I leaned back—boot against the swan-hued wall—my charming smirk on full display. She was of zero interest to me, but I didn’t need her causing trouble with her daughter. Best to be civilized, for now.

Pam shifted closer, offering me the back of her hand for a kiss. I took her palm, lowered it, then shook it. Her blindingly white beam collapsed an inch.

“This is not very chivalrous,” she commented.

“It is also not the seventeenth century,” I informed her, snapping my gum in her face.

“That’s all right. I’m not too fond of gentlemen, anyway.” Her pale eyes scanned my body with hunger I knew too well, because I satisfied those cravings. “I didn’t know Jesse hung out with the tattooed, tall, handsome types.”

I was starting to feel increasingly sorry for Darren. His stepdaughter didn’t care for him much, and his wife actively tried to screw men who weren’t him. All the money in the world and not an ounce of respect. I refrained from answering Pam, lowering myself down to pat Shadow.

“How did you meet Jesse?” Her bare thigh was suddenly thrust in front of my eyes.

“She had a flat tire. I had hands. The rest is history.”

“Classic Jesse. She’s a total mess sometimes.” Pam laughed, but there was no humor in her voice.

I kneaded Shadow’s fur. How long did it take Jesse to grab a goddamn leash? I wanted to get out of there. Preferably before my potential investor found his wife trying to grind her groin all over my face, which was starting to look like a plausible scenario.

“So…are you guys…?” Pam left the question hanging in the air. It was time to smash her little black heart. I straightened my spine, looked her in the eye, and delivered the news.