I didn’t even notice the girl standing between Zeus’s legs. His hands snaked up the sides of her leather pants. “Am I peeking, or is she as sweet as butter?”
Neither of us answered him as she showed him off to the rest of the playground—the maze of sinning. From the platform, you could see all those who were not afraid to show you their sins, where normally a dance floor would be. Instead of a dance floor, there were cages hanging low, girls on silk ropes, and beds with black satin sheets. It didn’t stop anyone from dancing.
The bar was on the other side, glowing red, with all the bottles on display backlit with red too.
The DJ always wore a mask from behind his decks. Every time I saw him, it was a different mask. Tonight was Phantom of the Opera. How fitting.
Looking at everything, scanning my surroundings like I always did, I noticed a girl in a white, plain shirt tucked into her light wash jeans. Abigail was hard to miss in her outstandingly pure choice of clothing color.
Everyone was pure fucking black here, while she looked like the forgiveness we all were searching for.
Still no text message. She disregarded me again and chased the storm I am, fearlessly.
Quickly texting her, all I wrote was: Look up.
Leaning into the railing blocking off the VIP, I left my face unamused. I didn’t want her to get the wrong idea.
Babysitting just got interesting.
With the same pissed off attitude still tightly stretched on her face, I knew she wasn’t done picking fights before one word was said.
Zeus poured back into the VIP area at the worst possible time ever. Only now, he had a girl under each arm, and they all fell into the booth a thud.
Handing me my card, she looked around curiously at everything around her. Curiosity was the hardest emotion to conceal when it lit up every feature in a glow.
“This is above your paygrade, Abigail. Scamper home now.”
Not bothering to take out my wallet, I tossed the card onto the table next to me. Eventually someone would need to run it through the scanner to charge me for whatever damage they were going to do.
“I could have dropped your card off at dinner.”
I chuckled directly in her face, and I saw how the mad mixed with the curiosity she was having swirl in the depths of her stomach. Pushing her against the railing, I caged her in the exact way I wanted to.
“Why? Then I wouldn’t have been able see how uncomfortable you are right now.”
“I’m not… I’m not uncomfortable. I just didn’t know places like this really existed.”
I could feel her uneven breath against my neck at our close proximity. I could smell her green apple perfume. I could almost taste her on my tongue, but it wasn’t good enough. “Don’t look so down. It’s okay to be afraid, dirty up the white you’re so fond of wearing, be curious… and be the kind of wet I know you are right now.”
She looked mortified as she shuffled through her comebacks in her mind for one before I placed my finger ever-so-lightly against her full lips. “We’ve come this far… let’s not lie to each other. No one looks at me as hungry as you do. It’s a dead giveaway.” It wasn’t a full-blown lie.
She tried to lean further back into the railing, which had probably already been digging into her back. She cleared her throat slightly and tried to put on a brave face, just before she said, “You’re my boss.” Her features all tried so hard to look disgusted, when I knew she wasn’t.
“We went past a professional relationship the minute you played Operation to get a bullet out of my arm. You can sin with no consequences here, Abigail. Might want to take advantage.”
Forcing myself to push back, I ripped myself from climbing her cage.
Just the thought of putting her in a cage and toying with her had me needing to close my eyes to take a deep breath as I fell back into the cushions.
Propping my shoes up on the table, I crossed one leg over the other lazily. I wasn’t trying to crush my own balls when Abigail was doing that for me.
Abigail was a specially kind of tortured soul when she sat down next to me with a grin that screamed for more.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“Probably sinning. My mama back home is probably buzzing with alarms going off.”
She called her mom an endearing pet name; she must like her parents enough for that. I couldn’t stand mine. If I could call them one and two I would. They didn’t deserve much else after Frankensteining me into a monster.
“Go home, Abigail. This isn’t a place for you.”
She leaned into me, almost whispering, if she could have. The remixed music was too loud for anyone to not yell slightly. “You’re kind of drunk… you can’t drive.”
Letting my lips get wet with the vodka, I was openly taunting her. “And? My car basically drives itself.”
“If I let you drive home drunk and something happens, that’s on my conscience.”
Funny, she had one of conscience, fully grown and responsible. Mine was still stumbling around trying to walk on its own.
“Fine. Stay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” The waitress came over in her vest with a thick tie tucked inside, and a very short skirt—the uniform for bottle girls. She had a fresh bottle of whiskey that I took from the tray without the glass next to it. Fuck the glass.
Right now I was drowning all the parts of myself with no control when it came to Abigail. Protecting her, not lying to her about who I am, letting her stay here… it wasn’t enough. I wanted to own every part of her.
The waitress leaned down, with her hand on my shoulder to keep her from falling down in those painful looking heels, and said into my ear, “She doesn’t look much fun, Grimm. Want me to send up some girls?”
Smirking, I whispered back into her ear. Abigail was looking at me all hungry and lost, but unwilling to do anything to give me the green light. I was hungry, but killing it with every gulp of whiskey.
Surprising me, she stopped the waitress. “I think he’s had enough. Can we close his tab?”
Shooting her an unpleasant look, the waitress looked to me for guidance, something I wasn’t in any position to give right now.
“I don’t know why you’re looking to the drunk person to confirm closing his tab. He’s drunk. Close the tab and give yourself a tip.”
Was I that drunk? Did Miss Abigail just sass someone?
Maybe there was more to her than meets the eye.
ABIGAIL
Grimm, in his own element, was something I could guess only a few people had seen. He wasn’t as controlled and trite. There was no cure for his cruelty, but I was guessing it was the only way to keep the lines blurred that had been drawn.
Sins and Forgiveness was exactly what you expected. Every surface was leather, latex, and cages, and the employees looked just as dangerous.
It was clear as the LA sky normally was that I didn’t belong here. I wasn’t a virgin, not by any means, but I wasn’t at that intersection of life that had me exploring kink to keep it fresh either.
Being this close to kink was hard to keep the curiosities at bay. I hated that Grimm was right; I was oddly turned on by everything around me. My focus was on the only comfort I had in this place: him.
I took in my surroundings before I could even try to take in the two figures next to Grimm. One was what Jus would call a daddy, completely covered in tattoos like Grimm, with a leather jacket balancing over his one leg. The other one was intimidating and too hard to look at for too long. He was equally as polished and oozing this kind of tough exterior.