I Am Dressed in Sin: A Reverse Harem Age Gap Romance (Death By Daybreak Motorcycle Club Book 2)

by C. M. Stunich

  My eyes go wide as Gaz hands the items over to Cat. My father looks at them then back up at his son.

  “That’s bullshit,” I choke out, blood dripping from my lips as I manage to drag my tired body into a sitting position. “Gaz attacked me and Sin in the clubhouse after the bomb went off.” Fuck, it sounds so weak. I should’ve said it first. I should’ve spoken first. “He’s been working with the mafia since before Queenie and Posey were murdered.”

  My father’s face … I wish I could explain the look of it. But that would take wordsmithing skills far greater than I possess. He looks like someone who’s just had his heart ripped out and shoved up his own ass.

  “Here,” Gaz encourages, taking his phone out of his pocket and offering it up to my father. What he might have on there, I have no idea.

  Cat doesn’t make any move to take the phone.

  “Gidget’s been fucking a bunch of men in the club to get their help. She arranged this hit today.” Gaz throws his hand out toward me for emphasis. “I’m not sure who’s all in on it, but at the very least, your pretty boy officers.”

  Cat is staring at us now. Just staring. There’s a realization in his eyes that scares me. He sees it. He sees the betrayal in at least one of us. Probably both.

  “Daddy, listen,” I plead as Gaz scowls at me. “Let me have a chance to explain before you decide anything. Please.” I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve referred to this man as ‘daddy’ past the age of five. Desperate times call for desperate measures.

  “Look.” Gaz turns his phone toward my father’s face, and whatever it is that Cat sees there shuts him down. He goes cold. Ice-cold. Glacial. He holds out his hand for the phone and Gaz gives it to him. “Do you think anyone from Grey Wolfe could get on this property? It’s surrounded. Somebody in the club planted that bomb.” He points back at me. “She was never held prisoner by the mafia; she was part of it all.”

  With a groan, I finally push up to my feet, swaying a bit as I put a hand on the edge of the bookcase to steady myself. I’m standing there looking at my father, wondering if this is it, if this is what everything in my life has been leading to. I’ve wondered for a long time now if Cat wouldn’t be the one to kill me. When I took off with Grey that day, I expected this ending. Dreaded it, ran from it, denied it, but expected it. Then when it seemed I could step back into the fold without him being the wiser, I relished it.

  Even though I didn’t mean for it to happen, I ended up liking the idea of him being civil toward me, if nothing else.

  Now, here we are. Gaz is accusing me of working with the Grey Wolfe Mafia. He isn’t entirely wrong about his assumptions, but between the two of us, me and my brother, there’s a certain person that Leroy Kesselring picks every time—and it isn’t me.

  “Give me a minute with Gidget,” Cat says, his voice low and gruff. Pained, is how I would describe it if I thought my father was at all capable of that sort of emotion. My eyes meet his, and a cold, inevitability settles over me.

  My men are … well, they might be dead.

  My father knows I’m a traitor.

  I have nowhere left to go, nowhere to run to, no one left to save me this time.

  I can’t even save myself.

  “Before you go, tell your sister that you love her,” Cat commands, and that really gives Gaz pause. He frowns, but he glances back at me anyway.

  “You’re kidding me, right?” he scoffs, but he shakes his head and does it anyway. Because he thinks he’s won. Because he’s placating Cat. Because it’s all over and there’s nothing I can do to stop this. Gaz puts a hand over his bleeding belly. “Love ya, Gidge. See you in the next life.”

  “You have one daughter left,” I whisper, pleading with Cat, unsure why I’m even trying. He ignores me, slipping the phone, the needle, and the bottle of silver liquid into his pocket. “Just one. Give me a chance to tell my side of the story.”

  “We’ve always been so alike, you know?” Cat muses, tapping his Magnum against the palm of his hand.

  He just stares at me for a minute before lifting the gun in a strong, confident grip. It’s pointed right at my face. I don’t close my eyes. Just like that day he pretended to pull the trigger on me. I won’t hide. I will face death head-on.

  There’s nothing more I can do.

  “Gaz, get out,” Cat says, and my brother smirks at me. He actually smirks at me knowing that I’m about to die. That I’m about to be shot. That our own fucking father is about to kill me.

  Leroy Kesselring aka Cat, the President of the Death by Daybreak Motorcycle Club, puts his finger on the trigger. Aims. Fires.

  Happy wedding day, Gidget.

  A white dress, a hot fuck, a bomb blast.

  Sounds about right.

  I am dressed in sin, bathed in it, consumed by it.

  And in sin I shall remain—right down to the cold, hopeless depths of my own grave.

  To Be Continued …

  Death by Daybreak, Book #3

  Alpha Wolves Motorcycle Club, Box Set

  The Havoc Boys, Book #1

  Stepbrother Inked, Standalone

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  About the Author

  C.M. Stunich is a self-admitted bibliophile with a love for exotic teas and a whole host of characters who live full time inside the strange, swirling vortex of her thoughts. Some folks might call this crazy, but Caitlin Morgan doesn't mind - especially considering she has to write biographies in the third person. Oh, and half the host of characters in her head are searing hot bad boys with dirty mouths and skillful hands (among other things). If being crazy means hanging out with them everyday, C.M. has decided to have herself committed.

  She hates tapioca pudding, loves to binge on cheesy horror movies, and is a slave to many cats. When she's not vacuuming fur off of her couch, C.M. can be found with her nose buried in a book or her eyes glued to a computer screen. She's the author of over a hundred novels - romance, new adult, fantasy, and young adult included. Please, come and join her inside her crazy. There's a heck of a lot to do there.

  Oh, and Caitlin loves to chat (incessantly), so feel free to e-mail her, send her a Facebook message, or put up smoke signals. She's already looking forward to it.

 

 

 
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