Make My Move

by J Bree

  That’s awfully close to admitting just how much he wants her and Avery is too fucking smart not to spot it. “Why do you care, Ash? I thought you hated her?”

  I expect him to leave, to just bail on this whole conversation because it’s all just too fucking intense and he’s not going to want to be exposed like that.

  He doesn’t.

  His eyes narrow at her. “I care because if he comes up here for her, I’ll kill him. If he tries fucking anything, I’ll show him exactly how Beaumont I really am.”

  Holy fuck.

  Avery’s eyes flare and her mouth opens like she’s about to pick his brain wide fucking open but then the water cuts off and Ash turns away, stalking over to the table and slouching into the seat there. He downs the rest of his beer and then groans, cradling his head in his hands.

  I get the feeling.

  I grab us both fresh drinks and join him at the table.

  “If you’re here to stake your claim on her, I already fucking know.”

  He sounds fucking miserable and something close to guilt curls up into my gut. “I’m not. I’m here to say we should fucking drive down to the Bay now and gut the rapist fuck before he sneaks up on us.”

  Ash chuckles under his breath but it’s full of self-loathing. “He’s the most dangerous member of the Twelve and even if we did succeed, they’d come after us. You taught me half of this shit; what are you thinking?”

  I shrug and drain half the bottle in two gulps. “I’m not thinking, I’m fucking angry. Of all the girls, we pick the most fucking complicated one… and the same one. All three of us.”

  The bathroom door opens and Lips walks out wearing one of Morrison’s shirts, an old one that she’s clearly owned for fucking years and he’s going to nut himself over. Ash takes one look at her and finally picks up the beer I grabbed for him, tipping it back like he wants to forget the night is even happening.

  “Ease up a bit. You need your head for whatever the fuck Morrison brings back.”

  Avery parks Lips on the couch with a giant bowl of ice cream, constantly on a mission to get some weight on her tiny frame. I fucking love her for it too, because Lips has gone from a strikingly beautiful but starving slum kid to a fucking stunning Mounty girl. She’ll always be a little rough around the edges but that’s what comes from growing up in the Bay.

  I’m the same.

  It feels like home to me.

  “One of us should be with both of them at all times,” Ash mumbles and I shrug.

  “There’s no fucking way Lips is going to be cool with that; she barely tolerates eating with us.”

  Ash grimaces. “Well, we give her no choice then. If he’s watching her closely enough to know about the bet then he could grab her at any fucking time. What classes do you have with her? Let’s work it the fuck out.”

  Fuck.

  Fuck, he’s more than just a little interested in her.

  Ash never, ever gives a shit about girls. They’re just some fun, a way to blow off some steam, but he’s never given any more thought to it than getting laid.

  He’s in love with her.

  It’s like a punch to the gut because my stake over her wasn’t just that I wanted her first, it was that I wanted her for keeps. Fuck, if Morrison feels the same fucking way, I’m screwed. Totally, utterly fucking screwed.

  I need another drink. “We’re in all of the same classes except choir which she has with Morrison. We need to figure out what the fuck we’re going to do about summer break, it’s coming up and she can’t go home to the Bay by herself.”

  He shrugs as the door opens again and Blaise walks in. “We’ll get Avery to get her a room with you up on the coast. Avery can probably talk her into it for us.”

  Morrison startles at Lips’ shirt and then ushers her and Avery to the table to join us, not so discreetly rearranging himself in his jeans. I give him a savage look which he shrugs off completely, sitting down and handing out piles of photos to each of us.

  I could’ve died happy not seeing this shit.

  They’re fucking convincing, if I hadn’t seen the Mounty’s reaction I might even say she had to be lying because there’s zero distortion or blurring. I don’t want to puss out of doing this but fuck if I don’t wanna break something right now staring down at them.

  “Fuck, Avery, don’t look at them,” snaps Ash as he tries to pry them out of her hands. She rolls her eyes and turns away from him.

  “I’ve seen nudes before, Ash. I’m not happy about being forced to look at that little fuck’s dick but I’m the only person here that’s seen Lips naked besides Lips herself so I’m the best person to be looking.”

  Can’t argue with that, even if I have seen a little more of her than she’d probably want to admit right now.

  Morrison’s eyes flash and he purses his lips like he’s trying to seal them shut so I punch the asshole in the arm because of course he’s being a fucking creep about it.

  I would probably be too if it didn’t involve Aves.

  He smirks and shrugs. “I’m not even sorry; I can’t help it.”

  Lips blinks at us both, still not looking at the photos in her hands. “Can’t help what?”

  Avery answers as she holds one of the photos so close to her face that she must be searching it pixel by pixel for inaccuracy, always the perfectionist. “He’s being gross about how I’ve seen you naked. Boys always are.” Then she grins at Blaise and swipes her tongue over her bottom lip, a sure sign she’s about to stir some shit up. “I’ve seen her naked, dripping wet in the shower, in every piece of skimpy lace Ash picked out for her, and all sweaty and panting after a long, hard workout. Oh, I’ve also seen her in yoga poses that would make a monk weep.”

  Oh, fuck.

  Fucking hell, like I need those fucking visuals right the fuck now and the worst part is that something finally pings in my brain and I remember her words.

  I can’t fuck a Hannaford boy.

  I need to fucking know.

  Ash clears his throat before I can say a word. “How exactly does this relate to what we’re doing?”

  Nope, I’m not waiting around for fucking answers so I butt in, “So, about this sex ban the Jackal has you on. Is that the real reason you won’t fuck a Hannaford guy?”

  Lips doesn’t even bother to look at me to answer, but I don’t blame her. She still looks queasy and her hands are shaking a little bit where she’s holding the photos. “Yes. If there’s a chance it could get back to him that I’m with someone then I can’t do it. Hannaford is a pit of snakes and no one gets laid here without the entire school hearing about it. Just not worth the risk.”

  Fucking checkmate. I see Morrison’s eyes flare and I consider knocking the asshole out but Lips still seems pretty fucking oblivious to us all so I don’t want to make a scene.

  If we kill the Jackal then she’s free and clear to live whatever life she wants and that life is going to be with me, god-fucking-dammit.

  Avery chuckles under her breath and it’s a devious sound. “Besides, the majority of males at this school don’t know how to make it good for girls. Why risk torture and death if you’re not even going to come?”

  Lips snorts with laughter at her, a sound that has no right being so endearing. “Better off doing it myself, right?”

  I think the fuck not.

  There’s a hundred fucking things I could say to her right now and half of them would get me murdered by Avery… the other half would air out Lips’ secrets by pointing out that she’s a virgin and has no idea what she’s missing out on. There’s so much that I would personally like to teach her about.

  I want to be the one to show her everything.

  She glances up at us as Avery cackles like a fucking witch, a blush dancing across her cheeks at the intensity of our glares. Ours, because it seems Ash and Blaise both have a helluva lot to say on this topic as well.

  Thank God Avery is here to keep things from escalating.

  Lips holds her hands up in a
placating gesture. “Woah, settle down. I’m sure you guys are…great or whatever. You must be if Annabelle is mourning your dicks like she’s missed out on the second coming of Christ.”

  “She’s mourning the potential for a wealthy husband not their dicks,” murmurs Avery, her tone scathing and acidic, before she finally yells, “Ha! There! Lips, we’ve got him.”

  She starts waving around a photo and I grab my own copy to try to figure out what exactly it is that calls it out as a fake. Lance has Lips—fuck, no, the girl—flipped over and is doing her from behind. He’s leaning back and the photo has been taken with a nice close-up of his dick in her, the fleshy globes of her ass spread by his hand.

  It makes zero fucking sense.

  “Snap, motherfucker,” Lips mutters and Avery threads their arms together.

  “Let’s go end that Mounty fuck.”

  As amusing as it would be to watch Lips fucking destroy Darcy and Lance at midnight wearing nothing but a ratty band tee and a pair of fucking sinful booty shorts, I text the bet keeper to meet us the next day to clear things up.

  No matter how hard we push, Avery refuses to tell us a fucking thing about the photo and why it’s the one that proves they’re fakes.

  I tried asking Lips exactly once during class and decided that I like my balls where they are and maybe today isn’t the best day to be questioning her.

  I’ve seen what she can do when she’s provoked.

  When classes let out and we can finally go deal with this bullshit, Avery marches into the chapel ahead of the rest of us like she’s about to start scalping people, Lips trailing behind her looking like she’d rather be anywhere else.

  “What the fuck happened today?” Morrison murmurs to me, jerking his head in her direction, and I shrug.

  “She’s obviously fucking furious over this whole thing and I copped the brunt of it this morning so just leave her the fuck alone. We’re here to watch their backs and, hopefully, see the Mounty fucking destroy him.”

  Ash’s eyes gleam a little, sadistic light shining through. “The only thing better than making him bleed would be watching her bleed him out."

  Blaise glances at him, still looking shocked that Ash is admitting to how fucking badly he wants her but I've had time to adjust to that shit. I'm not happy about it but there's too much on our plate for me to worry about his feelings right now.

  Lance needs to be dealt with.

  The entire walk down to the chapel it's easy to see how widespread the rumors are about Lance winning the fucking bet and the damage done by them. The whispers and snide looks follow us the entire way and it's fucking hard not to do something about it. Fucking hypocrites, the lot of them. This entire school is one giant orgy every fucking night and they want to be judging Lips for the one and only time she's supposedly had sex?

  The minute we're done here, I'm killing them too.

  The girls both stop the second we step into the room and Lance is already there, laughing and joking with Darcy like he's some kind of big fucking deal.

  I'm too busy checking out the rest of the room, so we haven't walked into some sort of ambushing fucking situation, when Blaise turns to fucking stone next to me. I glance up in time to see that fuck Lance biting his lip as he makes a big show of checking Lips out like he's thinking all about what she has going on underneath.

  I ball my hands up into fists so tight my knuckles pop.

  I don’t want to piss Lips off any more by launching at him before she gets to have her moment but fuck do I want to wipe that fucking smirk right off of his slimy fucking face.

  Darcy saunters over to us and smirks at Lips like a smug-ass dickhead. He deserves to fucking die for this too. His voice is fucking dripping with condescension. “You can’t be pissy just because you finally caved, Mounty. You still have the moral high ground, you fucked one of your own.”

  To her credit, Lips is as calm as the eye of a storm. “It’s a decent Photoshop, I’ll give the kid that, but he’s picked the wrong position.”

  I’m nowhere near that level of calm and when Darcy laughs, I lose my shit, and the only thing that stops me from choking the life outta him is Blaise body checking me.

  I could throw him across the room to get to them but he knew that already. The move was more of a reminder to let our girl do her thing.

  Fuck.

  Our girl?

  Jesus fucking Christ, no girl would sign up to deal with the three of us at the level we all so desperately want her, so I need to get that shit out of my head and fast.

  “You’re claiming it’s a fake because you don’t fuck doggy style? That’s not good enough, babe.”

  It’s a fucking beautiful thing, and I’m so fucking glad Blaise stopped me from ruining it.

  Lips is faster than anything I’ve ever seen as she strikes, taking Darcy’s legs out and slamming her knee into his windpipe in a single move. I couldn’t recreate that shit even after all the hand-to-hand training I’ve done in my life and it’s killing me not to know all of the moves she has up her sleeve.

  Her face is completely blank, a void until he’s gasping underneath her like he’s choking on his voice box now she’s knocked it three inches down his pathetic throat.

  I fucking love this girl.

  She stares down at him like death incarnate and I have to tell my dick to calm the fuck down because there’s never been a hotter sight before me. Fuck, this is better than porn. After she’s gotten her fill of his terror, she presses in close to him and whispers something I can’t hear.

  He nods his head a fraction and she climbs off him, gracefully in a skirt like it’s nothing to her. Lance is staring at her in horror, finally seeing firsthand who he’s fucking with and maybe regretting his life choices.

  His eyes flick up to us and he gulps.

  I hope he can see the death I have waiting for him staring back at him.

  Avery slaps a blown-up version of Lance’s fake-ass photo down onto the table in front of Darcy. He doesn’t look her in the eye at all, just nods along while he tries to suck deep lungfuls of air through his damaged throat.

  Lips shrugs off her jacket, handing it to Avery, and then pulls her shirt out from where it’s tucked into her skirt. For one heart-stopping second, I think she’s going to strip it off as well and I’m about to murder everyone in the room but then she turns on her heel to face us, lifting it only far enough to show them her lower back.

  I have no fucking clue what she’s showing them, other than the fact it’s obviously a scar or marking.

  I can’t remember feeling anything when we’d made out but I’d been more focused on other parts of her at the time. I didn’t realize there was going to be a pop quiz and my fat mouth ruined it for us anyway. Well… that and the fact that she’s, you know, a fucking virgin.

  Fuck.

  Can’t think about that either, my dick should not be rock fucking hard at this kind of situation. Avery will try to force me into therapy again if she notices the tent I’m pitching.

  “What the fuck happened to you?” hisses Darcy and that calms my dick down a little. Definitely a scar then, and by the flush on her cheeks I see before she spins back around to him, it’s one she’s self-conscious about.

  “There’s your fucking proof. Are you satisfied?” she snaps back, and there’s no way Darcy is going to be stupid enough not to believe her. Sure enough, he stares at her for a second and then, with a glance at the three of us glaring behind her, he nods and shoots a glare at Lance, who’s backing away from us all like he can get away.

  He isn’t getting away from us without medical assistance.

  “No hard feelings, Mounty. I’m still up for it if you want to end this thing for real,” drawls Darcy and Lips turns on her heel, stomping out of the room like we’re all done here.

  Ash, Blaise, and I don’t move a single fucking muscle.

  Avery smiles at us all as she passes us, waving her phone and calling out, “I’d like a video of it. My Mounty will enjoy it
once she’s feeling a little more… sociable.”

  Darcy disappears into thin fucking air like the fucking vermin he is, but the moment Lance looks for an exit, I pounce on him, a fist to the jaw planting him on his ass like the pathetic little shit he is. I trust the others to have my back completely and I lose myself in just beating the shit out of him, brutally and with fucking glee.

  It’s only when he’s trying to crawl away from me that I see the lace poking out of his pocket.

  It could be anything, fucking anything, but my gut starts screaming at me and I don’t ignore that shit. When you grow up in the Bay, you learn pretty fucking quickly not to ignore that shit.

  I stoop down to grab it and sure enough, one pair of lace underwear that could belong to anyone but we all fucking know who they belong to.

  Ash and Blaise start muttering to each other about why I’ve stopped, but I’m too fucking furious to tell them yet.

  I feel fucking wrong even holding them, like I’m betraying her, because this is something she’s been so embarrassed and frustrated about and he’s been walking the fucking halls with them hanging out of his fucking pockets like a pervert.

  I shove them into my pocket and then grab a fistful of his jacket, yanking him back onto his feet and shoving him to start walking.

  “Are we taking him out the back to dig his own grave?” Ash drawls, and then I pull the pin on the grenade I’m holding, knowing that he’s the one who’s going to explode.

  “Nope. We’re going back to his room to find the rest of Lips’ underwear. I doubt the pair in his pocket is the only set he has.”

  And that’s how Lance finds himself pinned to the wall, gasping for air while Ash loses his fucking mind.

  Filthy fucking pervert.

  I come close to just throwing caution in the wind and killing Lance.