1
Katrina
Leaving the house, I walk the two miles down the block to my bakery. I love listening to the sound of that in my head. My bakery. It was originally my mom’s, but when she died, she passed it along to me. I’ve always had a thing for sweet treats, and she knew that. She opened the bakery when I was only five. I grew up there, and that’s where my heart has always been. Walking down the back alley, I unlock the door and head inside, flipping lights on as I go. As I look around, I can feel my mom here with me. Sweet as Sin has run smoothly over the years because of her. She made this all possible. I hear the back door close and turn to find Abby, one of my workers and best friends, walk in.
“It’s too early for this,” she whines. I turn on the oven and smile over at her.
“It’s never too early. Besides, we have that big order today. The Jenson’s want to pick up the cupcakes at five p.m.” It’s barely four in the morning, but perfection takes time.
“I hate them. I should lick every cupcake before we frost them,” she mumbles under her breath. I love her to death, but we’re different. We like to joke around, but we both take this job very seriously. You wouldn’t look at us and think we worked in a bakery. Abby has short fire-engine red hair and tattoos that scream bad girl. With all her piercings, she easily scares people away from her. I’m not far behind. My hair is jet black with blue tips. I was told I dress like a gothic hooker at times but when I come to work, I tone it down. It’s not like these people don’t know me. Many of them I’ve known for years and word of mouth is my best friend. Everyone knows that my looks mean nothing about who I am and how I run my business.
“Sadly, Daddy Jenson might like that,” I remind her. The man is a freak in his own right, judging by the way he looks at women.
“You think so? Think he’s into those kinky fetishes?” she asks as she pulls on her apron.
“Have you looked at the man?” Raising my eyebrow, she laughs. He walks around in a suit and tie and has been known to frequent the local BDSM clubs, although I don’t mention that to Abby. She would haul ass to every single one just to witness it herself and we would lose our top customer. The man orders from us monthly and not small orders either. He claims they’re for his work meetings, but I find it a little odd that he orders nearly two hundred cupcakes that are shaped like skulls for his uppity meetings. Nevertheless, I like the income, so I go with it.
It doesn’t take long for me and Abby to get into a rhythm. Rock music plays through the speakers as we work. This is us. This is what we do. Hearing the door chime, I wipe my hands on a towel and head out front. I’m stopped in my tracks by a hot-ass man. His ginger hair hangs around his face, his tattoos of bright colors pulling my attention. I slowly drag my gaze up his body and over his cut that reads Psycho.
“Can I help you?” He looks up at me with the most dazzling eyes I think I’ve ever seen on a man before dragging his hand through his hair.
“I’m supposed to be gettin’ some kind of goddamn cupcake. I don’t even know,” he grumbles, causing me to smile. He looks flustered.
“Okay. Well, we have many flavors.”
“Yeah, I know. I had to listen to the goddamn list of them. This one was some blood shit,” he says, glancing through the display case.
“Vampire blood?” His head snaps up, his eyes locking with mine.
“Yeah! That one. I need all of them.” I smirk and grab a box to load them in.
“Having a party?” I ask while I fill his box.
“Fuck no. My old lady is pregnant, and this is all she wants to eat. What the hell is in it, anyway?” Once the first box is full, I start on the second.
“It’s a red velvet filled with strawberry crème. I don’t know why, but a lot of pregnant women love them. Yours isn’t the first,” I tell him, stacking the boxes on the counter.
“No shit? And here I thought my girl was turnin’ into a freak like me.” I snort out a laugh as he passes me some cash. When I look down, I see just how much he’s given me.
“This is way more than the amount due,” I tell him, trying to pass some back. He looks insulted but shakes his head at me.
“Keep it. This is the only thing she wants, and God help me if I don’t go home with it,” he adds before turning and heading out the door. My eyes roam over the cut he’s wearing.
“Royal Devils,” I mumble. I’ve heard of them but have never seen them around here before now. That’s one piece of information I will keep to myself.
2
Freak
I watch as Psycho walks back in with boxes from Sweet as Sin. I smirk and shake my head, downing the rest of my whiskey.
“What?” Psycho snaps at me before walking past us.
“You see that shit?” I nod toward Psycho. Preacher looks over and chuckles.
“She’s got his nuts in the palm of her hand,” he adds.
“No shit. Cupcakes? He went and got her cupcakes.”
“What are you two doin’ up so early?” Grave asks when he strolls over toward us.
“Watchin’ our boy lose what’s left of his goddamn man card,” I tell him with a snort.
“Why? What happened?”
“You don’t see this shit? He’s up all early as hell buyin’ the girl cupcakes, brother.”
“So what, Freak? She’s pregnant. And from what I heard last night, she’s moody as fuck. Damn near took his nuts off. I don’t know how the hell his demons aren’t rattlin’ the cage in his head right now,” he adds further.
“Me either because mine are.” Both guys turn to look at me, concern written all over their faces. I scrub my hand down my face before blowing out a breath. Taking in their looks, I know they want more information than that and I hate to give to it to them. I hate what’s happening.
“Shit, brother. Got a phone call early this mornin’.”
“And? Who the fuck was it?” Grave growls.
“My sister.”
“What?” Both of them speak at the same time which catches Psycho’s attention. He comes strolling over and stands with his hands pressed to the table, leaning over it slightly.
“What’s goin’ on?” He looks between us with a confused look on his face.
“Linny called Freak.”
“The fuck? What the hell did she want?” Psycho snaps. I know this pisses them off just as much as it does me, but she’s family.
“I don’t really know. Said she needed me, but then someone was hollerin’ in the background and she had to go. Said she’d call me later.” I didn’t like what I heard in the background of that call either. Things with Linny are complicated. She’s older than me and was a part of this club before I was ever born. My mom whored herself out around here and needless to say, neither of us know who our fathers are. Linny left not long after my mom overdosed and died in front of us. She never looked back, but she did call a few times over the years. To say that we aren’t close is an understatement. I barely even know her.