The Isle Of Sin And Shadows - Keri Lake Page 0,95

extra toothbrushes? I was lucky if Russ remembered to change ours out every year, let alone every six months.

Wrapped in the towel, I step out of the stall on a waft of steam, and sigh when I spy my clothes lying on the floor in a heap. It’s been a week since I’ve not had a washing machine, and with the few clothes I decided to pack up, I’m starting to run out of clean options. As much as I hate the thought of putting on the same clothes I wore pre-shower, I don’t plan on sleeping naked.

With my clothes gathered into a heap in my arms, I exit the bathroom, where I skid to a halt on finding Thierry rummaging through my bag.

21

Thierry

“What the hell are you doing?”

The silky texture of her voice is a warning against turning around, because chances are, all she’s wearing is a towel, and looking will mess with my head.

“Going through your things.” After carefully removing the music box from the depths of the bag, I resume my foraging for any weapon she might’ve stuffed away, as well as any evidence of something that Julio and his men could possibly be after.

Bringing her here probably wasn’t the best decision, but at this point, the girl is an asset. One that needs to be protected. Perhaps my golden fucking ticket out of laundering for the cartel, if Julio decides she’s worth something. Besides that, if keeping her hidden makes Aric look like an incompetent schmuck, then I’m all in.

“Why? That’s … so rude.”

“And you weren’t going through my cupboards and drawers just now?”

“That’s not the same thing. Those are my personal effects. Personal.”

“If you’re referring to your lemon panties, I own a strip club, chère. Those might as well be incontinence diapers.”

I pull a book out of the bag and set it on the bed beside me. Black Magic. Another object is a Baphomet painted completely black. A few months back, I’d have just chalked her up to one of those stupid adolescents who gets their rocks off sleeping in haunted houses and playing with Ouija boards, but I’ve recently become aware of the cartel’s involvement in the occult, and there are no coincidences. Ever since I watched that pale-skinned, gothic wannabe drag Castellano into Julio’s house, I’ve been curious to know the link. Turns out, it’s not uncommon for cartel leaders to seek out these dark arts priests, many of whom are well-versed in religions like Palo Mayombe, and the like, in order to exact brutal revenge and ensure personal success. Some even act as advisors.

Brow cocked, I finally twist around to find I was right about the towel. Fuck. Of course she looks like a walking dick magnet in it. I hold up the Baphomet. “Satanism?”

“I found it. In the house. Along with the rest.” As she tries to swipe the bag up from the bed, I swing out my arm to stop her, knocking loose a pair of panties from the small pile of clothes in her arms, which she carried out of the bathroom. On a growl, she bends to nab it up from the floor, sending the hem of that towel up her thigh until it just skims the underside of her ass.

“So you stole it.” The towel continues to be a distraction, the certainty that the tiny knot she made at the breast would be so easy to loosen from over those round, fleshy globes that make my palms itch. A girl’s tits shouldn’t be so perfect, particularly when she doesn’t go out of her way to flaunt them.

She discards the clothes onto the bed and crosses her arms. “How is it stealing, when it’s left abandoned? Finders keepers, and all that.”

“You’ve convinced yourself that house doesn’t belong to someone.”

“If it does, they need a new decorator. And a serious landscaping makeover.”

“So, why keep them? These books.” Thumbing through the text on the bed lands me on a page of what appears to be a human sacrifice painting, with a guy slicing a blade across another man’s abdomen. Entrails spilling out all over. Nothing I haven’t seen before.

“What’s the big deal? Are you afraid I’m going to draw pentagrams on your Brazilian walnut flooring and perform seances while you’re sleeping?” She swipes the book up off the bed and sits down next to me. The scent of my soap on her body taunts me in ways that a man with my level of restraint and discipline shouldn’t be affected.

Abandoning

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