355 500 произведений, 25 200 авторов.

Электронная библиотека книг » Joanna Wylde » Devil's Game » Текст книги (страница 10)
Devil's Game
  • Текст добавлен: 24 сентября 2016, 07:21

Текст книги "Devil's Game"


Автор книги: Joanna Wylde



сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 10 (всего у книги 20 страниц)

She had a point. Hell, you could even see it in our clothing. I wore a simple black top. It showed a little cleavage and outlined my curves, but in terms of club wear it was designed to blend in.

Kit, though … Not so much.

She’d gone full vintage for the night, a look she’d been developing for a while. Her hair was dyed dark black and arranged in an elaborate style that screamed Bettie Page. She wore a fitted, off-the-shoulder red blouse that matched her bright red lipstick and showed off her tattoos. She’d paired it with ultra tight capri pants that somehow looked old-fashioned and slutty at the same time. The entire outfit was eye-catching and unique, and completely above any particular fad or momentary fashion trend.

Kit had always been that—ruthlessly making her own path, oblivious to other opinions. I loved it.

I loved her, too.

“I love you,” I told her, catching her up in a hug. She giggled.

“You’re drunk.”

“So are you!”

“Not drunk enough,” she countered. “Get me a vodka Red Bull, okay? I’m going to hit the powder room.”

I waited for our drinks, musing about my sister and her unique view of life. Powder room, for fuck’s sake? Who says that? Somehow it was all part of that vintage persona, and on her it didn’t seem artificial at all.

Quite the accomplishment, really.

I got the drinks and found a table in the back. The top was a little sticky, as was the padded bench against the wall. I couldn’t see much in the dim light, though, and that was probably a good thing. When it comes to sticky in a bar, spilled drinks are sort of the best-case scenario.

My phone buzzed.

PAINTER: How’s Portland?

Yeah, right. Like I wanted to talk to fucking Painter. I picked up my drink and chugged it down fast.

Kit slid in next to me, eyes wide.

“Are we not a happy camper?” she asked. I slid my phone over to her and she picked it up, studying the message. “Ah, the amazing Painter.”

Then she started typing. It took me a minute to realize what she was doing. I lunged for the phone and she laughed, hitting send.

“You bitch!” I yelled. She laughed and gave it back to me.

ME: Figure it out, dumbass. You blew it, and now I’ll never blow you.

“Wow, that’s cold,” I said, impressed. “He’s gonna be really pissed at me.”

“You found him fucking a girl in the bathroom right after he turned you down,” she said bluntly. “He doesn’t get to be pissed. Ever. And what do you care? You’re done with him.”

“Yeah, but I still have to see him around when I go home.”

“So what?” she asked. “It’s like your head is still in Coeur d’Alene. You live in Portland now, babe. Bottoms up!”

She passed her drink over to me, and I chugged that one, too.

“I think I’m drunk,” I said after a couple minutes. She leaned forward, looking deep into my eyes like a fortune-teller.

“Really drunk, or just mostly?”

“Mostly,” I replied. “But definitely not sober.”

“Excellent,” she declared. “Now we’re going to talk about Liam.”

I swayed.

“I never should have told you about him.”

“Probably,” she agreed. “But you did, so that’s a done deal. Have you heard from him at all since that night?”

“No,” I said. “I don’t know if that pisses me off or not. I mean, it was all lies. I know that. But I still sort of miss him. How fucked up is that?”

She cocked her head, thinking.

“Pretty fucked up. But that’s how it is when you break up with someone.”

“You have to be with someone before you can break up with them.”

Kit started laughing.

“What?”

“You and Liam—Hunter—whatever we want to call him … You guys definitely had a relationship. You talked every day for weeks. You had phone sex with him and you pretty much had real sex with him, even if he didn’t literally stick his dick in you. He screwed you over and then he came to visit you and let you know you were safe. That’s more of a relationship than I had with that dumbass I got engaged to. Well, except for the sex part. We had more of that. But my point is, you broke up with someone. Of course you’re gonna be thinking about him.”

I considered her words. She had a good point.

“You know, that actually makes me feel a little better,” I said. “Less like I’m crazy.”

“So have you stalked him online since it happened?” she asked.

“Of course,” I said. Duh. “I mean, I looked at his house and stuff on Google. Went through his wallet. I already told you about the panties and shit. But there’s not much to find. His profile is gone and I can’t find anything else on him. I have no idea how much of what I knew of him was real.”

“This is going to take more alcohol,” she said, surveying our empty glasses.

I considered her statement, then nodded gravely.

“I have to pee.”

“You go do that,” Kit said, equally serious. “Try not to get lost. I’m gonna go replace these drinks. It’s my duty as a sister to make sure you don’t sober up any time in the near future.”

I stood, swaying, and realized there was no real danger of me sobering up any time soon. I made my way to the bathroom, passing the guys playing pool. One of them made eye contact, and I smiled. Yeah, being away from the club was pretty cool. I could flirt with him and not have to worry about him suddenly disappearing because some prospect started growling.

It took a long time to get to the bathroom and back. I can’t quite remember why, but I think I might have gotten lost near the pool table. Kit sat waiting for me, my phone in front of her, fingers flying.

Shit, why hadn’t I taken it with me?

Oh yeah. Drunk.

“Okay, two things,” she said when I got back. “I changed his name from Liam to Hunter in your contacts. It’s confusing me to keep track of both. Also, he said this.”

She handed it over to me. I looked at her blankly.

“Read it already,” she said. “Here, I got you a drink.”

She pushed a glass toward me, then glanced at the phone pointedly.

I looked down.

ME: Hey. Wht r you doing?

HUNTER: Em? Holy shit. How are you? I’m not doing anything. Can’t believe your messaging me

ME: I just wondred how you were, maybe if you think about me?

I looked up and gave Kit a death glare. Why hadn’t I drowned her when we were both still small, and I could’ve gotten away with it?

“What the hell were you doing?”

“Starting a conversation,” she said brightly. “I feel like we’ve got unfinished business here. Let’s get it out and over with, and then we’ll find someone to punch your V Card and move on.”

She said this last part way too loud, because the guy at the next table turned his head to eye us. He gave me a smile, and one of those chin lifts guys do.

“You need to stop talking,” I hissed at her. My phone vibrated, and I glanced down.

HUNTER: I think about you all the time

My heart skipped a beat. Well. That was interesting.

Kit tried to grab the phone again, but I stuffed it down the front of my pants. Ha! I smirked at her triumphantly until she whipped out her own cell. She hit a button and suddenly mine started vibrating.

Oh, wow.

There was something really, really wrong about how good that felt.

“I’ve had way too much alcohol,” I said. “I think I’m turning into a sex fiend.”

“Can I buy you a drink?” asked the guy next to us.

“No!” I grabbed Kit’s arm and started dragging her away.

“What are you doing?”

“We need to get the hell out of here,” I muttered. “Go dancing or something.”

This shit was out of control. Typical night out with my sister.

Two hours later I found myself in a cab headed toward Hunter’s house.

How we got from me dragging Kit out of a bar to stalking my former kidnapper, I wasn’t quite sure. I’m usually a pretty sensible person.

But in my defense, she bought me shots.

Anyway, because Kit is a sneaky bitch, she had the cabbie drop us not quite a block from Hunter’s address, so we could creep up on him. (I swear, in the moment it made sense. Shots!) We tiptoed along the sidewalk like two cat burglars, which would’ve been far more effective if we hadn’t been giggling hysterically and stumbling around. About two houses away we realized there was a party going on at his place.

Even during a party he took the time to answer “my” text!

Some part of me deep inside—the part that’s too stupid to live—thought this was sweet. That’s when I had to bitch-slap myself mentally, because seriously? Kidnapper. Naked photos.

Endless orgasms …

No. Don’t think about those.

We stopped behind a giant rhododendron and peered through the leaves at the house. People flowed through the front door, and loud music filled the air. Hunter stood in the corner of the old-fashioned porch, leaning against the rail and looking down over the yard. It was one of those old houses that defines Portland—tall and skinny on a narrow lot. Almost Victorian, but just a little more raw, as if the builders couldn’t quite afford the gingerbread. The porch slanted forward and steep stairs led to a narrow walk. Tree-sized shrubs surrounded it, many of them still flowering despite how late it was in the year.

Hunter watched impassively as a group of girls staggered up to the house. A tall chick with giant boobs tried to talk to him and I felt myself tense, but he ignored her and after a minute she followed the others inside.

“Wow, he’s hot,” Kit whispered. “No wonder you’re obsessed with him.”

“I’m not obsessed.”

“Whatever,” she said. “But damn … That chick looked like she was ready to drop to her knees on the spot if he gave the word. Not many guys would turn that down. Text him!”

“And say what?”

“Ask him what he’s doing,” she hissed.

“You already asked him that!”

“Oh yeah. I forgot. Ask him if he’s got anything interesting planned.”

I dug my phone out of my jeans and started typing, which was harder than you’d think, since my thumbs kept hitting the wrong spots.

ME: So you have anthing intrsting plnned? I’m out wth my sister

Seconds later Hunter reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, glancing down at it. He smiled and I melted, because he really was gorgeous. He started to type something back, but then a beautiful girl with bright red hair came out and wrapped her arms around his waist.

I waited for him to push her away or freeze her out like he’d done with Big Boobs.

Instead he hugged her back. She said something to him and he laughed, the expression on his face so tender I could have thrown up. Bastard. Motherfucking cocksucking bastard. Hunter leaned over and whispered in her ear. She smacked his stomach playfully.

“I think we should kill him,” Kit hissed. “He doesn’t look nearly as cute with that bitch wrapped around him.”

I nodded.

He kissed the top of the girl’s head and she laughed again, then pulled away and went back into the house. Hunter turned back to his phone and I got a text from him.

HUNTER: Nope nothing planned. Just hanging out with the roommates. Shit it’s good to hear from you Em. Miss you. How are you?

I showed the message to Kit, and she growled.

“That takes balls,” she muttered. “You saw how they were together? That’s not some new thing, they’re a couple. He’s fucking with you. Either that, or he’s fucking her while thinking about you. Not sure which one sucks worse.”

“I know,” I said, my voice grim. God, why had I wasted so much energy on this guy? Why the hell was I surprised to see him hanging on some bitch right after he texted me?

Hunter wasn’t a nice guy.

We’d covered this.

I should just slink away. Just go home before I embarrassed myself even more. Then I pictured him naked with that redheaded twat and my head exploded.

I stepped out from behind the shrub and started marching across the lawn. I’m sure he noticed me right away, because Hunter had been doing that same watching thing my dad always does. He liked to keep an eye on everyone, always looking for potential threats. Considering what a giant dickhead Hunter was, I’d bet tons of people wanted him dead.

I was the new queen of their special club.

Pushing through the group at the foot of the stairs, I headed straight toward him. The surprised shock on Hunter’s face was satisfying as all fuck.

“Em, what the hell are you doing here?” he asked, glancing around the yard quickly. Maybe he expected an army of Reapers behind me? Well, I might not have the brothers with me, but I had Kit. Under the right circumstances, she could be scarier than a dozen angry bikers.

“So, you miss me?”

“Um, yeah,” he said, studying me like I was some sort of alien creature. “Where did you come from? I thought you were in Coeur d’Alene.”

“Just because you leave me somewhere doesn’t mean I’ll stay,” I hissed. “I’m not a dog, Hunter. I don’t do what I’m told.”

He narrowed his eyes at me.

“You’re pretty fuckin’ drunk, aren’t you?”

“And that would be your business because … ?”

“Shit, let’s get out of here,” he muttered. “Get you some water or something. Figure out the rest of this later.”

“Why, are you trying to hide me?” I sniped. “Afraid I might run into someone, make things awkward for you?”

He shook his head slowly.

“No, I just figured tomorrow you’ll wish there were fewer witnesses who saw this,” he said. “I’ll bet you’re gonna have a hell of a headache, too. Let’s get some water, maybe some Advil. Then we can talk, okay?”

“Fuck talking. I saw her, dickwad.”

“Who?”

I cocked my head and sneered. Did he really think he could fool me?

“I saw you with your girlfriend like two minutes ago, Liam. You kissed her, for fuck’s sake. Don’t pretend you’re trying to do anything more than use me.”

“Jealous?” he asked, a slow, sexy grin stealing across his face.

“Don’t smile at her, asshole,” Kit said from behind me. Like always, she had my back and I felt a rush of love for her. At least one person would always be on my side.

“Babe, that girl was my sister,” Liam said carefully, his voice almost gentle. “Kelsey. Trust me, she’s not interested in me like that.”

I froze.

“Your sister?” I asked, the fog in my head clearing enough to realize that I might have stepped over the line … “You told me you didn’t have any family, that you grew up in foster care.”

“She’s my foster sister,” he said. Shit. I felt like a complete bitch. “We’ve been together for more than ten years, I practically raised her.”

“I saw how she looked at you,” Kit snarled. “That’s not a sisterly kind of look.”

“You want to say that a little louder?” a new voice demanded, and I looked over to find the redhead in question glaring at us, hands on her hips. “Because it sounds like you were saying I want to fuck my brother. That’s pretty nasty, even coming from a skank like you.”

Kit bristled like a porcupine, and for a second I thought she might launch herself across the porch, hissing and spitting.

“Drop it, Kels,” Hunter said, his voice cutting through the air like a whip. “This is Em, and that’s her sister. Trust me, I’m happy she’s jealous of you. Means she still gives a shit.”

“I do not give a shit,” I muttered, and Hunter laughed.

“This bitch tied you in knots—” Kelsey started to say, but Hunter cut her off.

“Drop it. Put away your claws, because I’m just thankful she’s here.”

Kit snarled, and I stepped quickly between her and Kelsey. Wait. Wasn’t this supposed to be my dramatic scene? Ughh …

“This is between me and Hunter,” I told Kit. “I appreciate the support, but you need to back off.”

“Christ,” Kit muttered, turning away and running a hand through her hair. “I need a beer.”

Kelsey narrowed her eyes at her. Hunter put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed just a little tighter than what looked comfortable.

“Play. Nice.”

“You can come out back, we have a keg,” she choked after a long pause, her tone still hostile. “Let dumbass talk to his precious Em, maybe he’ll stop moping around. I’m seriously tired of his shit.”

She turned and stalked back into the house. Kit caught my eye.

You okay? she mouthed. I shrugged, which she took as a yes. I wasn’t sure if I was okay or not, but I figured I wouldn’t make any progress fighting on the porch with this Kelsey chick.

“Look, let’s go get some coffee or something,” Hunter said. “There’s a diner a few blocks from here. Then I’ll take you home.”

“No, let’s stay. I need another drink.”

I turned toward the house, but he caught my arm.

“I don’t want you inside.”

“Why not?” I asked. “You can’t tell me it isn’t safe. You let your sister go inside.”

“It’s safe enough,” he replied reasonably. “But there’s shit in there I don’t want you exposed to.”

“My dad is the president of an MC,” I snapped. “Or have you forgotten? Because if I remember correctly, it’s why you got in touch with me in the first place. I’ve been exposed to plenty in my life.”

Hunter sighed and ran a hand through his hair. It’d gotten longer since I’d seen him. Unfortunately, I remembered exactly what it felt like to run my fingers through that hair.

Lust hit me, and I bit the inside of my cheek. Goddammit. Why did he have to be so beautiful?

“Trust me, I haven’t forgotten who you are,” he said. “Would make my life a hell of a lot easier if you were nobody. I’d just fuck you and get it over with.”

Chapter Ten

I stared at him, stunned.

“I know guys think things like that,” I said slowly. “But you do realize you’re not supposed to say them out loud, right?”

He sighed.

“Em, I really like you. We covered that. I like you enough not to play games¸ okay? That means I’m not gonna feed you any romantic bullshit.”

Huh. Wasn’t sure how to take that. On the one hand, I didn’t want him lying to me. On the other, I didn’t like the honesty, either. Made it too hard to pretend that this wasn’t completely insane.

“So let’s lay it all out,” I said. “You want to fuck me, but you don’t care about me. I want to fuck you, but trust me, every time you open your mouth, I care about you less.”

“Pretty much,” he muttered.

“We should do it.”

“Excuse me?”

“Let’s do it,” I said, warming to the idea. “Fuck. Screw. Boink. I know you’re good at it, and it’s about time I got it over with. Let’s go in there and have at it. Like ripping off a Band-Aid.”

I smiled up at him brightly, pleased with myself. It was a brilliant plan.

“You have got to be kidding me,” he said, closing his eyes. “Un-fucking-real. Em, we need to get you home. Now.”

“You’re turning me down?” I asked, raising my brows. “Because you seemed pretty ready to go for it at the bar, and you sure as shit weren’t faking it when you had me cuffed to the bed. Pretty certain I didn’t imagine that part.”

“Yeah, Em. I’m turning you down.”

“Well, fuck you, asshole. Oh wait, we’re not doing that, are we?” I said peevishly, looking past him. The front door had opened, and I could see girls dancing inside. Some of them weren’t wearing much in the way of clothing. Interesting. “If you’re gonna be boring, I’ll just go check out the party.”

I pushed past him and walked into the living room, looking around curiously. If Hunter wanted to be a dickwad, I’d find someone else to entertain me.

Now, I grew up in an MC, so it wasn’t like the party totally shocked me. But Dad always kicked me out before things got too crazy at the Armory, because he’s mean like that. I have a good imagination, though, and I’ve heard stories about wild club parties.

Stories that were apparently pretty accurate. Sweet.

Across the wall was a long banner that said “Welcome Home, Clutch.” Right underneath it sat a big recliner, all covered with gold cloth like a throne. There was a mini fridge set next to it, and attached to one arm was an elaborate remote-control holster. I made careful note of each peripheral detail, because my eyes kept shying away every time I tried to look at the action taking place in the chair.

A man wearing a Devil’s Jack cut lay back, a giant grin on his face. I couldn’t tell if it was from watching the half-naked stripper working the pole in the center of the room, the two fully naked chicks on the couch sixty-nining each other, or the girl giving him a blow job. Whatever the cause, Clutch (I assumed it was Clutch) was in a very, very good mood.

Well, at least now I knew what the party was for.

I started wandering across the room, which was full of guys drinking beer, couples making out, and oh … look at that. There was a giant plasma TV playing porn.

“Em,” Hunter called, his voice warning. I ignored him. This was far too interesting. Past the living room was a dining area. Big Boobs lay back on the table while a tall man with a hairy ass fucked her in front of the crowd. I cocked my head, studying him carefully. He needed a wax in a big way.

Then everything turned upside down.

Hunter had grabbed me and thrown me over his shoulder, which wasn’t the most comfortable position for a woman who’d been drinking all night. It took everything I had not to barf down his back, so I started smacking him and demanding that he let me go.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, passing through the kitchen and up a flight of stairs. He turned into a room at the top, flopping me down on an unmade bed. Everything started spinning. I tried to focus on the ceiling, where something faintly green shimmered. What was that up there?

Then I burst out laughing.

“The fuck?” Hunter asked, hands on his hips, exasperation written all over his face.

“There’s a glowing unicorn on your ceiling,” I said, awestruck. But was it real? I closed my eyes, rubbed them, then opened them again.

Nope. It was still there. Holy shit.

I sat up.

“Is there really a glowing unicorn watching us?” I asked, feeling a little panicky. “Because I see one. It’s right there.”

A smile crept across his face and he sat down on the bed, leaning back against the headboard.

“Yup, there’s a unicorn up there all right,” he said. “Must’ve been a kid’s bedroom before we took the place over. Someone painted it for him, I guess.”

Well, that was good news. I might be drunk, but at least I wasn’t hallucinating.

“Why don’t you paint over it?”

“Kelsey likes it,” he said. “Actually, I kind of like it, too. We had some shitty foster homes, but there was one place we stayed that was pretty good. The woman there was way into unicorns. All over the place. They remind me of her.”

“Are you still in touch with her.”

“She’s dead,” he said shortly. “Died about a month after we moved into her house. Heart attack or something. We were damned lucky they kept us together after that—even real brothers and sisters get broken apart. Fuckin’ miracle we weren’t separated.”

I thought about my mom and dad, and how happy I’d been with them as a kid. I missed her so much. And while Dad drove me crazy, I loved him. He was always there for me. Always.

I rolled to my side, curling into him and resting my head against his chest. Then I brought my hand up and rubbed up and down the plane of his muscles, almost restlessly.

“So, what do you think?” I asked.

“About what?”

“Fucking, of course. Remember? I’m not a little girl who needs protection, Hunter. I know what I want. Just lie back and relax, because it’s not personal. I’m just going to borrow your dick for a while.”

He stilled.

“You’re really, really drunk, Em. I think we should talk about it tomorrow. If you’re still interested then, I’m all over it.”

I pushed myself up to lean on his chest, glaring at him.

“If you don’t fuck me right now, I’m going downstairs to find someone who will,” I threatened. “I’m serious. I’m done with this virgin princess bullshit.”

His face hardened.

“Yeah, that ain’t happening.”

I tried to sit up, but he wrapped his arms around my waist, holding me tight. Then he rolled, taking me with him until I was settled underneath, one of his legs between mine. I felt his dick against my stomach and smiled. That was good—for a minute I’d been worried he’d lost interest. I tried to kiss him, but he pulled away, scowling.

“Oh, seriously?” I asked. “Let me get this straight. You’ve got a drunk girl who wants to have sex with you in your bed. You’ve made it clear you aren’t interested in love or romance. The drunk girl is cool with that. Are you sure you’re actually a real biker? Because something here isn’t adding up, Liam.”

His face softened.

“Say it again.”

“Are you sure you’re actually a real biker?” I asked. He shook his head and grinned.

“No, my name. Liam.”

“Liam,” I said, letting it roll around my tongue. “Liam. Liam. Fuck me, Leeeeam.”

“Christ, I love how you say that. Nobody calls me that but you, Em.”

“That sounded almost sweet,” I said, narrowing my eyes. “But we aren’t playing games. I know you aren’t sweet, so stop pretending.”

He dropped his forehead down, resting it against mine.

“Never thought I’d see you again,” he said quietly. “Not gonna blow it now.”

“Maybe I should blow you?”

His face twisted almost painfully, hips swiveling against mine. For a minute I thought I had him. Then he kissed the tip of my nose and rolled off me. He tucked me into his side again, and used his free arm to grab a remote control off the bedside table. The TV sitting on top of a battered dresser flickered to life.

“Tell you what. Let’s hang out for a while. You sober up and still want to go at it, no problem. My dick’s all yours,” he said. “Until then, we’ll watch some TV. You like Top Gear?”

“Sure,” I said, trying not to yawn. I glanced up at the unicorn. It seemed to wink at me, sneaky bastard. I decided to rest my eyes for a minute, because they obviously weren’t working right. Five minutes later I was sound asleep.

I was dead.

Only death and damnation to hell could explain suffering this terrible.

Horrible, unspeakably bright sunlight attacked me. I tried covering my eyes with my arm. Unfortunately, this brought it into contact with my head, which exploded into waves of painful throbbing.

I heard the door open.

“Morning,” Hunter said cheerfully. “I brought you some coffee.”

I wasn’t dead, I realized. I tried to think back, remember the night before. Flashes hit me. Strippers. A glowing unicorn. British people talking about cars …

Oh God.

I’d thrown a jealous tantrum and demanded Hunter have sex with me. Then I’d fallen asleep on top of him. Kit. This was all Kit’s fault. She bought the devil shots. She insisted we stalk Hunter. Hell, she’d texted him in the first place.

My sister would pay for this.

“You want some Advil?” Hunter asked. I slowly peeled my gummy eyelids open. He stood over me, his hair wet and his skin glowing with the fresh vigor of a newly showered man.

Damn him and his sobriety.

“Advil would be great,” I said, unsteadily sitting upright. The covers fell down as I reached for the coffee.

Then I realized I was wearing only my bra and panties.

“Crap,” I said, grabbing for the sheet.

“Not like I haven’t seen it before,” Hunter said reasonably. “I stripped you down last night, figured you’d be more comfortable. Also, I think you spilled booze on the shirt. It smelled funny.”

Of course it did, I thought, mentally sighing. Because getting drunk and making an ass of myself wasn’t enough. Nope. I had to stink, too. Wordlessly, I reached for the coffee. I took a sip of the dark, bitter liquid, feeling it flow down my throat like a miracle drug. I was already feeling more human—amazing what a little caffeine can do.

Hunter sat down on the bed next to me.

“Think you’ll live?” he asked.

I considered the question carefully.

“Not sure,” I admitted. “Physical suffering aside, I’m pretty sure I’ll never live last night down. I’m sorry I was such a freak.”

He gave a laugh.

“Yeah, because I’ve never seen someone get drunk and stupid before,” he said. “Not that I didn’t appreciate you climbing all over me. But what the hell was that all about? Wasn’t like you.”

Kit,” I said, her name a curse. “All her idea. For the record, she’s the one who texted you, too. My sister is insane. I’m not entirely sure she’s even human.”

I took another drink, then had a horrible realization. I’d abandoned my sister—drunk—in the middle of a party where screwing women publicly on tables was socially acceptable.

“Is she okay?” I asked, full of sudden panic. “Have you seen Kit?”

“She’s fine,” he said. “Down in the kitchen with Kelsey. They’re making breakfast for all the stragglers. I guess they hit it off last night—now they’re building some kind of unholy alliance.”

I shuddered.

“Just what the world needs. Did I really ask you to fu—have sex with me last night?”

“Yup,” he said, looking smug. “I’m on board with that now, by the way. You were just way too out of it last night for us to have any fun.”

“Wow, what a prince,” I muttered. “You won’t screw a drunk girl. Were you class president, too?”

He laughed.

“Trust me, it wouldn’t have been fun for either of us. I’m not into necrophilia. You were so out of it I kept getting nervous and checking to make sure you hadn’t stopped breathing.”

“Ewww.”

“Hey, not my fault. I was sober, remember? You’re the one who poured those shots down your throat.”

Oh, I remembered that part. Vividly.

“I feel like something died inside me.”

“That would be your liver,” he said helpfully, reaching down to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “I’m gonna go check on Clutch, and then we’ll talk. Make yourself comfortable. Bathroom’s across the hall. Oh, and Em?”

“Yeah?”

“Last night was a game changer, so far as I’m concerned. I gave you your space, let you go. But you came back, so now you’re fair game. I’m done being the nice guy.”

I eyed him suspiciously, then pulled the covers up and over my head. I wasn’t ready to think about this. I heard him leave the room. Damn it. Why didn’t he have blackout curtains in here? After a while, the door opened again.

“Sorry,” I muttered. “I’ll get up. I was just drifting …”

“Don’t worry about it,” a voice said. Not Hunter’s, but one I knew way too well. I peeked out and over the covers.

Skid.

“What are you doing?” I asked, eyes darting nervously. He closed the door behind him and clicked the lock, loudly and deliberately. Then he leaned back against the door with his arms crossed in front of his chest.

“We need to talk,” he said, his voice cold.

“You can’t hurt me,” I said quickly, hoping it was true. “Hunter will be pissed as hell if you try to do anything.”

He gave a harsh laugh.

“I don’t care about you enough to hurt you,” he said. “What happened before? That’s behind us. You were defending yourself and I was trying to save my brother from a fucking Reaper lunatic. We’ll call it even and let it go, at least as far as you’re concerned. This is something else.”


    Ваша оценка произведения:

Популярные книги за неделю