Sins of a Bad Boy (The Original Bad Boys Book 1) by Soraya Naomi Page B

made their way to the end of the corridor to a small flight of stairs going down toward William’s private room in the fight club.
    “William—argh,” Markson started but was cut off by Silk’s slap in his face.
    “Shut up and walk.” Silk’s tone was low.
    “Get my key from my pocket, Silk,” William ordered, not wanting to put Ivy on unsteady feet.
    Silk did as told and unlocked the door to William’s room, pushing Markson into the chair as William sat on the edge of the bed with Ivy.
    “Guys—” Markson tried again, but his words were smothered by Silk, who was standing behind him, placing his hand over Markson’s mouth.
    Ivy was sitting sideways in William’s lap. He slid off her mask, threw it on the bed, and angled her head up by her chin.
    “Ivy, talk to me. What happened?”
    One arm that was around William’s neck dropped down, and she stared at her torn dress.
    William held her tight and smoothed her hair from her face.
    “It’s okay. I’m not mad at you.” His hard stare shifted to Silk. “Where the fuck were you?”
    “I only left for a minute to help one of the girls untie herself. I told Ivy to stay put.”
    Markson protested, so Silk pressed his hand harder against his mouth and held his hair in a death grip.
    William looked down at Ivy. “Did Markson force you?”
    “Yes.” Her voice was steady now; her tears had subsided, making way for anger. “He yanked me to the bed. I was completely overwhelmed and didn’t know what to do. I told him that I didn’t work there, and then he laughed, saying that he was getting hard because of how well I was in character. That he’d ordered a girl who would protest, just like I did. I kept telling him to stop.”
    “How many times did he hit you?” William questioned with bite.
    “Twice before you came. On my thigh—”she straightened her legs, held her torn dress closed in a fist to hide her breasts, and traced the red mark. Then she leaned back, tracing just below her belly button—“and my stomach.”
    Markson protested, shaking his head, trying to wring free but held immobile by Silk.
    William pointed angrily at Markson and snarled through clenched teeth, “Don’t you fucking even look at her!” At that point, William covered her with his ivory sheet.
    Ivy and William stared at one another for what seemed like an eternity, and he held on to her. Just as she was about to speak, Charles entered.
    Ivy leaned her head on William’s chest again and wound her arm around his middle.
    William became rigid, not used to this kind of physical contact, but promptly hid it and rubbed his palm up and down her arm while laying the other on her hip, pulling her tightly against him.
    Charles eyed their snug position. “The guard told me there was a commotion.”
    “Markson hit her,” William explained.
    Charles addressed her instantly, “How are you feeling, Ivy?”
    “Fine,” she answered softly, clinging to her now-hero, William.
    William cupped Ivy’s cheek, making her tilt her head. “Sit on the bed for a second.”
    He lifted her off his lap, and she sat on the bed with her feet on the floor, holding the sheet up to her breasts.
    Charles had entered with pliers and handed them to William, who held them up as he stood beside Markson’s chair.
    Markson’s eyes widened in horror.
    Charles folded his arms over his chest and leaned against the bed post.
    Silk yanked Markson’s head back, stretching his throat, and removed his palm from his mouth. Before Markson could utter a word, Silk cupped his chin and dug his fingers into his cheeks, so that his mouth was forced open.
    Markson struggled in his seat, so William placed his knee in his groin – making him howl – and captured his chin, pinning him with his violent gaze. “You should learn to never touch what’s mine.” William then held up the pliers and pressed the metal handles, constricting his grip on the tooth.
    Sweat poured down Markson’s temples as he furtively attempted