Garden of Sins

I do her a favor and wink back before I calmly sit down with Dorian and roll the sleeves of my black shirt up to my elbows.

Confident, Carter leans on his forearm next to Dorian, who immediately inspects him. I do not like the way Dorian looks at Carter. I hate that guy. Have I ever said that before, Alayna?

Carter’s pupils are huge. He ca

“Which one?” he asks, and I now understand why he has been texting for so long with the bum who sends him into one mess after the next.

“Green shirt,” Dorian says roughly. “Knock him out, he owes me money. Get it back for me. In the back, you can do whatever you want with him. Knock yourself out. Giova

Carter briefly glances at me to tell me he’s leaving, then just marches off. He doesn’t give a damn what I say and that’s why he’ll die one day. However, I’ll have to kill everyone afterward, and then we are all dead and saved. End of story, Alayna.

I watch as my brother goes after the green shirt, swinging wide with his gun in his hand, and smacking the handle against his temple without comment. Giova

Dorian smiles at me, his dark blue eyes sparkling. In the glow of the spotlights, his flawless teeth appear even whiter.

His dark brown hair is slicked back, but a few strands fall across his forehead. The royal blue polo shirt clings tightly around his broad, muscular upper body.

“I love your brother. He is so loyal. You don’t often find that these days,” Dorian remarks.

“Well, he’d do anything for his family,” I reply drily. “Unless his family wants to fuck him, then he fucks back.”

Dorian nods appreciatively. “Healthy attitude.”

My cognac is served without having asked for it. For Carter, Kylie leaves a bottle of whiskey. No mixing with coke for him. He takes everything straight up.

Dorian leans his elbow on the red armchair as the fog machine releases white steam onto the stage, enveloping the next dancer.

He rests his chin on his fist. “I thought I’d give you a little help,” he says.

“With what?” I ask, hiding how pissed off I am inside.

Dorian pulls out an envelope and pushes it across the table towards me with one finger. “Isabelle was seen. Over in the East Quarter, very close by.”

I keep a straight face because I have to be careful since the man is testing me. He still doesn’t know if it was me or Carter screwing Isabelle. Well, it wasn‘t me this time, but I’m not saying that aloud. I’m not putting my brother in danger. Before that happens, I’ll take the blame.

Dorian knows more than he lets on and I know there are pictures in there. Of Isabelle. And that they’re going to fuck up Carter. So far, I have found everyone, but I’m not really searching for her, Alayna, I’m just faking it. I’m good at faking it, as you know. That is our luck. This time.

Three black and white pictures appear and I’m glad Carter is busy right now. With a straight face, I spread them out in front of me. Isabelle, whom I only know from photos, is standing with a taller man. They are both hooded and he is handing her an envelope, probably money or new papers.

“I need to know...” Dorian says in his psycho voice while tapping the man in the pictures, “…who this man is. I bet it’s one of our rats. I hate rats. They stink, multiply uncontrollably, and disloyal. Whoever has this tattoo should always think of his family first.” Carter and I also have it, the two thick, black, joined X’s on the fleshy part of my hand between thumb and index finger, right where I always do coke. I only do coke, nothing else. Rarely grass as it makes me tired and clouds my mind and I need it clear.

Carter, on the other hand, takes everything he can get and he gets a lot. Too much, in my opinion.

“I’ll figure it out,” I say softly. “But I need the pictures to do it.” I don’t want him showing them to Carter.

“Ah, I knew I could count on you. While you’re at it, I’ll put Vasco on Isabelle too now that I know she’s nearby.” I keep a straight face because Vasco is one of the worst motherfuckers there is. He won’t ask Isabelle to get in his car he will hit her so she can’t walk anymore. And knowing how Carter feels about her, if he finds out, he won’t be able to control himself.

“Okay,” I casually respond and put the pictures in my pocket before downing my cognac. I keep myself under control because otherwise, Dorian will notice something. He is not stupid, Alayna. On the contrary, he is smarter than what is good for us or him.

I watch my brother over Dorian’s head as he returns. He has inattentive, dull eyes, as always lately, and his hands are clenched. The fat rings on them shimmer in the red light. His steps seem extremely authoritative. Everyone makes room for him because he looks like the Hulk. His face, chest, and neck are splattered with blood. He doesn’t even notice because he has gotten so used to the fact that blood doesn’t just stick to his hands. By the way, his knuckles are no longer lacerated because he now wears nasty rings on his right hand that beat every face to a pulp.

He comes to the booth, hops over the backrest, and lands unerringly right between us before he lifts his ass a bit and removes a wad of cash from his pocket, and tosses it in Dorian’s lap. He then pulls his gun out of his waistband and sets it on the table like almost every other person here does. He also takes a bag out of his pocket. Carter pours the white powder in front of him but doesn’t bother to draw a line, instead, he takes his golden straw and just goes at it.

I hate to watch this. I hate watching him destroy himself.

“Aaah,” he sighs, leans back, and swings his arms over the backrest. “What’s going on?” Interested, he looks from one to the other as his fingers drum the worn leather.

Dorian pockets his money. He rarely gets his hands dirty himself. I know he makes bets with the other men on when Carter will go crazy again and beat someone, and how long they will hold out. The record was three seconds when he knocked the other guy out with one punch.

Carter reaches for his whiskey and takes a drink as Dorian says, “Ah, I just told your brother that Isabelle was seen in the city.” Carter opens his eyes and a fountain shoots out of his mouth towards the table and stage as he spits out the whiskey.

That wasn’t subtle, Carter.

I’m already prepared for Dorian to see through it all now, but Carter saves himself. “Fuck, this is a fucking Jack Daniel’s. What do I want with this cheap shit?” He slams his glass down on the table and I look at him in admiration. That’s a good one. I couldn’t have come up with an excuse that fast.

He turns back to the observant Dorian. “So what? Who was seen where? Isa-who?” Oh fuck, he’s really good. Maybe it’s a good thing he did coke because that way he doesn’t feel anything.

“Isabelle, my fiancée. In the East Quarter. Two days ago. Vasco will take care of it now and Caden will find out who she met with, and you, Carter…” He points his index finger at my brother and it’s nothing good I bet, “…beat the shit out of her when she comes back. She needs that lesson. The little bird has to sit in its golden cage and chirp beautifully. That’s all I want. You understand that, right, Caden?”

I try hard not to flinch. Fuck, Alayna, I can’t set my brother loose on a woman. It doesn’t matter if he loves her or not. Normally, he’d never do it, especially if he feels something for the person because he wouldn’t have the heart to do it, but if Dorian demands it, he has no choice. He’ll hate himself if he touches Isabelle. Carter is frozen solid, staring at Dorian as I nod to give the bastard an answer.