Page 44 of Deadly Sins

What an asshole. “Okay. I’m sorry. I am little nervous.”

I walked to the stage, waiting for the music to start. Jack played a melodic tune, which suited me fine. I climbed the pole, did a couple of aerial moves, then decided to do an old-school striptease, more Rita Hayworth in Gilda than Nomi in Showgirls. I slowly moved the straps of my gown off my shoulders, exposing my black lace corset, my full breasts spilling over the top. A shimmy of my hips and my dress fell to the floor, revealing my garter belt and stockings. Mitch’s lips parted, his eyes hungry. I worked the pole, making sure not to volunteer a lap dance.

My song ended not a moment too soon. I stared at my rumpled dress. What would come next? I wanted to go home. I wanted to see Grant.

I went to gather my clothes, but Mitch stopped me. “That was good. But you’re not off the hook. You still owe me a private dance.”

I figured. Well, one degrading step at a time.

Mitch pulled me into him, which made my mind flash with scenarios of being gang-raped since I was practically naked. “I got you, babe. Let’s have a drink.”

A waitress came to our table, and I ordered a cocktail. I felt dizzy, and a sense of dread filled my body. My eyes scanned the room, staring at the exit door, trying to plan an escape route.

Jack spoke. “You don’t have the job yet. We need to know you can party. Our customers don’t hold back.”

Damn—what did he mean by party?

“Party?” I genuinely didn’t have a clue what he meant, but my skin crawled at the possibilities. Did he mean would I sleep with men? Get wasted? I shivered, wondering what these two had planned for me.

Jack’s eyes danced over my body. “I’ll show you.”

“I don’t know what it is you mean. I’m not hooker.”

“Let me show you.” Jack pulled a mirror and a small bag out of his back pocket. There were about two ounces of white powder in the bag.

Mitch’s pupils dilated.

I jerked my head back, unable to control my reaction.

It was cocaine.

Cocaine!I knew the SEALs were drug tested all the time, so clearly something was amiss here. Was this the key? Had they been involved with some type of drug deal, and Joaquín found out? Was Mitch involved in framing him?

Holy shit.

“Relax, baby.” Mitch pulled me to him. “You’ve never done it? It’s an incredible high.”

Jack put down the mirror and poured a thin line of coke. He took out a credit card and smooshed the powder down. Mitch handed him a rolled dollar bill, and Jack snorted a line. Then Mitch followed. My eyes glazed, and my skin tingled.

Mitch pushed the mirror into my hands and handed me a razor blade. “Here, your turn. This will help you loosen up, then we can have some fun.”

Was this some type of test? This had to be a trap. Was Grant here somewhere? Or maybe he was going to take pictures of me and show Grant. What was I doing? Was this getting me any closer to Joaquín?

But I was afraid to say no. I’d never even smoked a cigarette—I was an actress and didn’t want to fuck up my voice. But my gut wrenched, and I felt almost certain that if I didn’t pass this test—the hard-partying, up-for-anything-stripper test—my game would be over.

I closed my eyes. I could do this. The drugs running through this place could be linked to the murder. I’d made too many sacrifices to get here; what was one more?

I took a deep breath, stared at Mitch, who nodded at me expectantly and inhaled a line.

My gums numbed; a bitter, metallic taste dripped in my throat. I tried not to gag. My insides were quivering, but it wasn’t from the blow. I was in a strange place with men I didn’t trust. Grant wasn’t with me.

Throughout this entire time, since I’d transformed, I’d convinced myself I’d always at least maintain control. I was anything but in control of this situation. I finally realized how vulnerable I truly was.

Mitch rubbed my back, and I fought the sudden overwhelming desire to get close to him. His fingers made me tingle, and I imagined him touching me. Hell, I wanted him to touch me. I wanted to lose myself in pleasure, forget about my fucked-up life, and indulge. Pulses of euphoria streamed through my body.

Mitch leaned in and kissed my neck. His now-potent scent startled me. A flash reminded me of the only other time that I’d ever lost control. A time that ruined my life.

But I didn’t have time to focus on Mitch. Because not even a minute later, the heavy doors swung open—and Grant was standing there in front of me, a look of disgust marring his beautiful face.