I pick through Sinclair's kitchen drawers, trying to remember which one holds the pile of junk I'd accidentally found what feels like ages ago.

A warm set of arms wrap around my waist and tug me against a broad chest. "What are you doing?"

"Ensuring the emptiness of my womb," I mutter, letting loose a small sigh of relief as I find the jackpot. I pick through the pile of condoms and Marlboro cigarettes, tucking a few packets into my bra.

I raise a brow at the assortment of colors, studying the packaging of a purple one in my palm. "Ribbed for her pleasure, huh?"

I know he's rolling his eyes even though my back presses against him. "Theo's idea. He bought the variety pack."

"Maybe he knows something you don't." I smile as silent displeasure rolls off of him in waves. "Had any complaints lately?"

"You tell me." Sinclair's hand slowly creeps down the line of my stomach and my body heats under the small touch. "What do you think, has she been satisfied?"

My body blazes against him so intensely I'm surprised I don't combust in his arms. But the idea of stroking his giant ego miffs me so I shrug an unimpressed shoulder. "It's been alright, I guess."

He's silent for a long moment, then he slowly lowers his head into my neck. I shiver as I anticipate his velvet baritone brushing over my ear, his lips sliding over the sensitive skin of my nape.

I'm practically preening with anticipation. But then a sharp, pinching pain erupts on my shoulder and I realize that this little shit is biting me.

"Ow! Christ," I bat against his head with an annoyed hand. "That hurts, you little shithead."

He laughs into my skin before lifting his head. "You deserve it."

"Really," I say, turning my attention back to the drawer in front of me as if the sight of the teasing glimmer in his normally steely eyes doesn't make my chest squeeze. "I can think of at least a dozen worse things you've said in the time I've known you."

He brushes his lips over the sore skin. I can feel them pull into a small smile. "Guess you'll have to bite me too."

"I don't think it counts as a punishment if it gets you all hot and bothered."

He chuckles again and I hold up an unopened box of cigarettes. There's at least ten crammed into the small space. All of them appear untouched since the last time I saw them. "What are these for? I've never seen you smoke."

"I do sometimes," he admits, taking it from my hand and opening the package to roll one in between his fingers. "Usually when I'm agitated. Helps calm the nerves."

"Hm." I pluck it out of his hand and shove it back in the drawer. "They're bad for you."

"Concerned for my well-being, are you?"

"Not yours," I say, reaching behind my back to pat the sizable bulge of his junk. I flash him a teasing grin. "Just his."

He snorts, heat growing in his eyes. "Want to check on him for me? Legend goes if you give him a kiss it'll make him feel all better."

I roll my eyes even though the offer is incredibly tempting. Right now I don't have time. There's something Sin has promised me that I intend to take him up on before he sucks me into his bed for the rest of the night.

"Tonight," I promise him, patting the condoms shoved into my tight fitting black top. He looks so disappointed that I nearly laugh. "It's time for work, hot stuff. When can I get my free booze?"

...

I palm the shape of the pistol tucked into my side as Elliot's fingers steady Calli's hands as she nearly drops the shaker and spills liquor over the counter.

Something fearsome rears its ugly head inside of me as I imagine walking over and settling the barrel between his wide-set eyes. But then he laughs a little and steps a respectable distance away and the raging fire inside my chest dwindles a little.

She pours the drink into a glass, her eyes searching through the crowd around the bar until they find mine. The sight of her wide grin as she pridefully thrusts it into the air for me to see makes every murderous intention evaporate in my chest.

I recline my head. She's wearing a little black top and some dark colored pants today. It's refreshing seeing her in real clothes but the sight of her perky little ass in those tight pants puts dangerous, dangerous thoughts into my head.

The smile abruptly falls from her face as her golden eyes catch on something behind me, a frown tugging at her plush little mouth.

I follow her gaze if only just to eliminate the cause of her displeasure, turning my head until a shock of red catches the corner of my vision.

Amber leans over a man, her mouth trailing down the line of his neck, his hands bunched into the waist of her crimson dress as they sway to the music. Her nails slide up to clutch his hair, tilting his head to the side as she whispers something in his ear. As if she can sense my gaze, her eyes flicker over to me and she smiles.

It's a challenge and I know it. She knows I haven't sought her out nearly as much as I used to—not since I gave her to Arlo, but especially not after a certain starlight-eyed girl beckoned me into bed.

Amber knows I don't share. But I don't claim her as mine anymore and couldn't give two shits if the fact bothers her. She can fuck as many men as she wants to now—not that being something to me ever stopped her before.

I turn my attention back to the bar but Calli has already looked away, her brow furrowed as she fumbles with a bottle in front of her.

I have a strange urge to get up and smooth the worry wrinkle down with my thumb, but that would go back on my promise. True to my word, I'd sent Oliver and Theo away, leaving my attention the only one trained on her tonight, but even that has its limits. The brat wants independence? Fine, I'll give it to her.

I sigh, reclining back on the leather seat. I don't mind watching the little spitfire but resisting the urge to get out of my seat and pester her is staggering.

"That your girlfriend?"

My eyes flicker over to the woman standing next to me. She has a glass of liquor clutched between her manicured fingers, her tiny black dress so small it borders on indecency. She flips a blonde curl out of her face, her rouged lips pulling into a hesitant smile.

"What's it to you?" I ask, wishing for a glass of whiskey. Alcohol always makes these interactions far more tolerable.

"You look lonely," she says before settling on the arm of the chair.

I raise a questioning brow.

She looks nervous for someone dressed as she is. The short skirt, plunging neckline, high heels—it should exude confidence, but she hunches in on herself like she wants to hide her overly exposed skin from the world. "Do you mind if I sit here?"

I snort. Scratch that, I just might need a second glass to make it through this conversation. "What's the point of asking if you've already made yourself comfortable?"

She winces. "Sorry."

I stare at her in silent irritation until she shifts unsurely.

"I just...," she pauses, a hint of a blush creeping over her cheeks. "I just thought you'd want company. That's all."

"Okay," I say, my eyes absentmindedly flickering back over to the bar. Calli shrinks a little when my gaze finds hers, her parted lips closing as she pretends to draw her attention to the glass she's polishing. Every now and then she'll sneak glances, that wrinkle emerging between her brows once again. "Well, I don't."

"I'm sorry," she says again. "I promise this will be quick."

That brings my attention back to her. I quirk a scrutinizing brow. "What are you—?" I grunt as she slides into my lap, forcing a hand down my pants and planting her lips onto mine.

For a second, I'm too caught off guard to do anything except freeze as her body coils around me. Then my fingers are moving faster than my brain, grabbing her wrist so tightly I feel the crack of her bones underneath my fingertips.

She gasps, face blanching with pain. "I'm sorry. God, I'm sorry."

Hot rage spreads through my veins like lava. "What the fuck are you doing?"

She blinks, trembling so hard against me that I can hear her teeth rattle in her head. "I swear I didn't want to. I owed her a debt. That's all it was, I swear."

I take a deep breath, trying to cool the simmering heat inside my chest. She looks petrified, like she thinks I'm going to wrap my hand around her throat at any given second. To her credit, I would if we didn't have a crowd of humans surrounding us. "A debt?"

She nods vigorously.

The girl whimpers as my grip tightens a notch. "Who?"

Instead of speaking, her gaze shifts to the space behind me, a tremor of unguarded terror passing over her features. Without looking, I know the flash of red she begs for her life with those large, horror-filled eyes.

Something cold and deadly drops in my stomach. It cools the fire in my blood, an unsettling chill creeping into its place. It slowly spreads into my fingers until they're twitching with the urge to wrap around Amber's windpipe.

I rise from the chair, barely noticing as the girl drops to the ground with a yelp. She shivers against the floor, watching me with fearful eyes as she clutches her maimed wrist to her chest.

I turn my head to the bar, something unpleasant weaseling its way through the comfortable numbness in my chest. It makes my throat tighten, a light sheen of sweat slicking my palms.

Empty. The bar is empty.

((a/n: Happy 200k! 🎉 thank you guys for all the support ilyy.))