Page 66 of When Sinners Hate
“I’m ...” Dante takes a step closer to her. I’m damn close to letting him play. Her hands go up to try stopping him, so I push her face further down until she's eating dirt. “A whore. I’m a whore.”
I’m still inclined to let him have some fun, but then I remember that she’s not the woman I’m pissed with and probably doesn’t deserve my wrath. I let go, watching as she crawls to get upright. “Stay the fuck down.” She instantly stills on her knees. “There is no fighting with my wife. She wins. Every damn time. You understand? Everything and everyone Cortez always wins.” She nods and shuffles away from Dante, flustering between me and him. “Get the fuck out of here. Go.”
She's up and stumbling from the room quickly, with me watching her sorry ass, and I turn back to find a chuckling Dante staring at me. “You're such an asshole,” he says. “What did she do?”
“Tried telling me to make my wife behave.”
“And that got you all riled up?”
“No, my wife’s got me riled up. Carmen just took a piece of it. It was either her or Shaw.”
“What’s she done?”
“We argued. She took my car.”
He busts out laughing and turns away from me, stoking his furnace for the next girl that’s about to arrive. “Well, call me old fashioned, but why aren’t you just going and getting it back?”He holds his iron up, as Shaw comes in past me with the next girl in tow. “My little bird would be eating dick for a month if she pulled that move on me. Maybe you need to get more handsy with her ass.” The girl breaks free of Shaw’s hold and starts running for the door. “Goddamn, Shaw!”
I move sideways, blocking the exit, and stare at the floor rather than use her to go at. “You better get on that table. I’m in no mood for games today." She backs away from me, and I look back up to find her eyes, glassy with tears, looking between all three of us. Shaw grabs hold of her again. She’s put where she damn well should be, Dante gets on with his job, and I’m left with nothing else to vent my frustration on.
Turning from the room, I leave them to it and head for my car. Dante’s right. I’m just gonna go get my damn car and my wife. I’m done with this shit from her. She’ll get in my goddamn house when I let her. Conceited little bitch is lucky I’m even offering that potential considering the family she’s come from. And I’m the asshole for not offering it quicker?
The car door slams and I flick my phone on to look at the tracking on my car as I’m driving out of the warehouse.
A text sits there waiting for me. My wife.
Help me. I’m sorry.
I call her. No answer.
So I send a text asking where she is and what she's done.
No reply to that either.
With nothing else for it, I head for where the car is at full speed. I’m halfway there when I decide it’s time to calm the hell down and think about what I’m going to do. Knox’s number gets pulled up, and I send Lexi’s number to him, press call, and pull up the ramp onto the freeway.
“Abel,” he says as an answer.
“Where’s Lexi’s phone?”
“What?”
“You need it fucking repeated?”
“Alright. Calm your ass down. Send me her number.”
“Already done.”
“Right. Give me a minute then.” I do, all the while listening to him working his laptop to find out where she’s at. “Looks like she’s at Chance’s place – Grimaldi’s. The casino. The phone is anyway.”
I end the call without any thanks and keep driving. It’s not far from the car, so I head for that and aim at ramming anything that tries getting in front of me for the rest of the journey. Roads go by in a fury of chaos. I don’t know if I’m panicked or fucking outraged, but both seem to merge and cause a hate filled desperation for answers.
Eventually, I pull up and glare at the Challenger sitting there as I walk past it. With her goddamn mood I'm surprised she hasn't left it on a side street to get trashed or stolen. A bitter laugh rumbles through me. That would really improve my fucking mood, wouldn’t it? Yeah, she’d be so far out of my good books she’d be tending her broken cunt for the next six weeks.
Pushing the doors into Grimaldi’s casino open, I try phoning her again to get some fucking answers. Nothing happens but it ringing out, so I start searching the entrance way and formal lobby. There’s nothing but other people who aren’t Lexi, so I make a beeline for the tables, scouring them, too, and keep moving until I circle back to the restaurant and bar. Couples sit dotted around, and there’s a table out back full of some bachelorette party in full swing. None of them contain my wife.
I walk off, knowing I’ve got nothing but phoning Knox again so he can track that goddamn phone down to its locationin this building. I look upwards, cursing the fact that there’s a hundred hotel rooms up there.
What was just building anger, turns damn vicious inside me because if she’s decided to fuck someone to appease her tantrum, she’s gonna feel my idea of punishment for the rest of her fucking life. My phones out again and I’m redialling Knox. He gets with the program real damn quick given my tone and starts guiding me through the masses of halls and corridors. Trouble is, when I reach the exact location, I’m in the entrance to the kitchens.