by J Bree
“I’ll video chat you guys. Harley can stay with me and if you guys can get away to the Bay you can stay, too.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Harley arrives at our door first.
Avery groans when she opens the door and he shoves his way into the room, a single duffel bag slung over his broad shoulder. “This is my life now, isn't it? You lot showing up at my door every hour of the day to make eyes at my best friend.”
Harley grabs a beer out of our fridge and drinks half of it in two big gulps. “Get single rooms next year. Be a fuck load easier for us if you’re not watching our every move.”
Avery slaps his arm and then shoves a box into his chest, directing him to start packing up her glut of belongings. “I'm looking out for my Mounty. I don't want you lot corrupting her.”
Harley snorts at her and I try not to be too insulted. My bags are all packed, everything except my safe. I wriggle myself under my bed and use the light on my phone to see as I start to wrench the floorboards loose with my knife.
There's a knock at the door while I’m grunting at the effort to uncover my most valuable possessions. Then I hear the other two guys talking and joking around. I might slow my work down a bit to give myself time to stop blushing.
“Great view,” Blaise says and then he grunts as someone hits him. “What? I'm allowed to appreciate my girl’s ass, especially in those shorts. What are you doing, Mounty?”
His girl. Sweet lord. I don’t think I have it in me to get used to that. “Construction work.” I tease and then Avery ducks down to have a look at what I'm doing.
“That's where you hid that!”
“Hid what?”
“Her stash,” says Harley and he's so smug. He loves knowing more about me than the others.
I wriggle back out and drag the safe with me. Avery does her gimme hands at me and I chuckle. “I'm not sure I can trust you with these, Beaumont.”
She bites her lips and stares at the metal box with lusty eyes. “I solemnly swear I'm up to no good.”
“Nerd.” But I open the safe and hand over the velvet box.
Avery moans as she cracks the lid and Ash looks so fucking mortified that we all get to have a laugh at his expense. “Sex toys? You can't fit a pair of Louboutins in a box that small and I can’t think of anything else that gets Floss that excited,” he grumbles.
“Better. So much better. Diamonds!” Avery squeals and then she starts pawing through them. Harley’s eyebrows shoot up and damn near disappear into his hairline as he looks over her shoulder.
“How many of them do you have?”
Forty-eight. I shrug. “I'm good at what I do and I'm stockpiling so we can get clear of our shit after graduation.”
Harley’s eyes flash possessively. Avery rolls one of the blood diamonds in her fingers and I swear she's panting. Harley clears his throat at her. “Put them back, Floss. Make Morrison buy you one for your birthday.”
Blaise is too busy staring, gaping, at the contents of the box to snap out a comeback. Avery pouts as she carefully packs the diamonds back into the safe. “I don't want boring old diamonds. I want priceless, blood soaked, favor diamonds.”
“Someone needs to start explaining what the hell is going on,” Ash grumbles.
Avery is still pouting as I bury the safe in my duffle bag and cover it with my clothes so it's obscured and nestled nicely. She answers Ash for me. “The Twelve trade each other favors in times of need. Diamonds are used as a physical representation of the favors and Lips has dozens of them. Dozens!”
“Why? Why not use them and become rich? Why come to school here and put up with us?” Ash asks.
I shrug, entirely uncomfortable talking about them. “I nearly died for most of those. I’ve only ever used two favors and that was for situations that were life threatening. I won’t use them for less than that.”
My phone pings and I try not to cringe. Avery shoots me a look because she knows who it must be. Only one person outside of this room has my number.
The building is bigger than I thought it would be. I hope your inductee packs light, I’ve brought the BMW to bring you both home.
Fuck.
Fuck, this is bad. Bad. Baaaaaaaad.
I glance away from the Jackal’s text to find Harley laughing and moving boxes for Avery. He looks so damn happy and I’m going to ruin that by telling him his life is in serious danger. I should have worked harder on getting out from the Jackal. I should have focused on my GPA a little less and stopped avoiding the bigger issue.
I know my face must show every ounce of my fear because one look at it has Avery and Harley both dropping the boxes and bolting to me.
“Lips, what—“
“Fuck, babe—“
I sink to the bed and give myself ten seconds to freak out. Ten seconds and then I’m going to pull myself back together and get through this.
“The Jackal is here. He’s picking us up,” I croak.
Joey is waiting for us at the bottom of the stairs. His gaze bounces over each of us until he lands back on me.
“How the fuck do you know the Jackal? He’s here for you.”
I arch an eyebrow and step around him. Harley follows, exactly how I told him to, and my heart flutters in my chest. Joey moves like he’s going to stalk after us but then Ash hisses at him, “Do you want to fucking die?”
I can’t look back at them to see the answer.
The Jackal is here.
I can’t see him yet but every student, every parent, every teacher, they’re all turned towards the same man, terror and horror hangs thick in the air. Enough people recognize him and they’re all waiting for the killing to start.
I take one last deep breath.
I push down Lips Anderson in my mind. I put her in the little box and I forget about her. I forget about the breakfasts with Avery and dancing to old records together, I forget about planning our futures and world domination. I forget about my GPA and the panic of my choir performance. I forget about the itch of my skirt and the crisp lines of my blazer.
I fucking bury every thought of the three guys I’m on the edge of falling in love with.
And then, all I am, is the Wolf.
“There you are.”
I loathe the sound of his voice.
He’s brought Luca and Diarmuid and they’re standing either side of him. I take note that all three of them are carrying guns, Diarmuid even has a thigh holster with a ten-inch knife strapped in. I knew they would be but it doesn’t help with the nerves that are trying to worm their way into my mind. Diarmuid grins and sweeps me into a big hug. I laugh joylessly and give him a little pat on his back. He whispers in my ear, barely more than a breath, “I came to keep our boy safe,” and then he drops me back onto my feet and sweeps behind me to hug Harley. I really want to know how Harley reacts to that but I can’t risk looking at him.
Luca steps forward and takes my bag from me with a smile I return easily. His eyes are intense and locked behind me as he stoops down to kiss my cheek.
Lord save me from the pissing contest this is going to turn into.
Once Luca steps away I turn to the real monster in the room. The Jackal is tall, well-muscled, and attractive in his crisp navy suit. His Italian roots are easily distinguishable. His deep brown hair falls in waves around his face and his eyes are the same color, dark pools looking out from his olive skin. Even with the thick black lines of his tattoos dancing across the skin of his cheeks he’s a handsome man but not to me. All I see is the evil living inside of him.
I meet his eyes and fake a little smile, one I’ve given him a thousand times before. He looks over every inch of me like he’ll be able to see all of the lies I’m telling him etched into my skin. I breathe in deeply and force my heart to slow down while I wait him out.
Finally, he says, “Where’s my hug, little Starbright?”
I roll my eyes and step forward into his arms. He presses himself into me fully, chest to thigh, and I focus on where I
can feel his weapons so I don’t have to think about this public claiming he’s hell-bent on.
I pull away from him and he tucks my body under his arm, flicking out a hand to get Harley and his men to follow us.
“We have so much to talk about, my Wolf. Or do you belong to someone else now?” he murmurs into my ear.
Fuck.
He knows about Harley.
Fuck.
Chapter Thirty-Four
EXTRA SNIPPET FROM MAKE YOUR MOVE
HARLEY
I lean on the wall as Lips locks up, angling my body into her and enjoying the sight of her shivering at how close I am. Fuck, I want her. I want her so fucking bad, it’s kind of pathetic. I mean, I know it’s pathetic already but Ash doesn’t let me forget it either.
He shuts up real fucking quick when I point out how obsessively he watches her too.
The thought of her picking him or Morrison over me… fuck.
I need to make a move on her tonight but she’s so fucking… jumpy. Literally, if she watches me for too long she startles like a rabbit caught in headlights and scurries away. Floss won’t tell me a thing about her, nothing to give me a clue to why she’s like this, but at least the blushes and shudders let me know she’s into me too.
Something catches my eye and I curse under my breath.
I don’t want to fucking deal with Annabelle’s bullshit right now. I’m pissed at myself for ever touching her in the first place and now she won’t fucking leave me alone.
“It’s bad enough I have to watch Blaise leave here most nights now you’re here with her too? Come on, Harley, what are you thinking?”
My skin crawls at the sound of her voice.
The attitude is just as bad, I know she doesn’t give a fuck about Morrison. He’s nothing but dollar signs in her mind and that alone has my teeth clenching.
Lips stalking away, ready to just bail on me over this has me fucking livid at the slut.
I grab the Mounty’s hand and tug her back over to me side. There’s no way I’m having her doubt me, not over this bitch. Not over anything, I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life as I am about her. Whatever it takes, she’s going to be mine.
“We’re heading out to Joey’s party. Have a great night with whichever dumbass you’re all dressed up for, Summers.” I say, scathing sarcasm dripping from every word.
Annabelle’s bottom lip drops and she looks like a fucking child, none of the integrity or backbone of the Mounty. Not a fucking inch of it.
She simpers at me, reading me out a list of shit that she thinks will get her back under me but but the second she puts Lips down, the second she starts to throw shit at her, what little restraint I had for this clueless cunt snaps.
“I was born in the same city as Lips. I spend all of my summer breaks there. We have friends in the same circles. When I leave Hannaford, I’m going back there. I’m as much a Mounty as she is. Give up, Summers. I’m never touching you again. I never should’ve touched you in the first place.”
I keep a firm hold of there Mounty’s hand as we walk off, even when she tries to tug it away, never once looking back at Annabelle. Lips finally relaxes when we make it down the stairs, still alert but the tension in her body has eased.
I’m still fucking furious at what the cunt said about her so I’m sure I look positively murderous.
The party is always held in the clearing, Joey likes his shit in the same place because he’s a creature of many habits, and I grab whiskey for us to share.
She drinks it without a single flinch and fuck me, it’s the hottest fucking thing.
The eye rolls at Joey’s friends is even fucking hotter.
She deals with them like they’re nothing, something even Floss struggles with, and then we move on to dance together and actually enjoy a little of this night together.
There aren’t many perks to growing up in Mounts Bay.
Knowing how to dance with her is definitely one of them.
Fuck me, that ass of her grinding back into me… it takes all my fucking self control not to just say ‘fuck it’ and bend her over right the fuck here. The grins and gasps that come out of her are like nothing I’ve ever heard before. I’m addicted to it, filing them away to think about and obsess over once the night is over.
If I don’t have her by the end of the night these memories might just hold me over while I figure something else out.
She’s fucking killing me here.
Finally she spins in my arms, her chest pushing up into mine so I’m panting, and says, “Let’s get this over with.”
For a second I think she’s on the same page as I am, ready to leave this party and find the closest surface to fuck, but then her words actually filter into my brain and nope, we’re dealing with Joey.
Fuck him and his psychopath plans.
I nod and we weave our way through the other students dancing, none of them with half the skill or grace that we have, and further into the forest. There’s couples fucking everywhere, a few of them definitely cheating and I make a note to tell Floss about them. It’s always good to have ammo on the other students.
Lips comes to an abrupt holt and I plant myself behind her, the widening of her stance telling me a whole fucking heap about this situation.
It’s the same stance she had down at the docks.
So as much as it kills me, I stay behind her, just for now. The second Joey so much as flinches in her direction I’ll get around her and beat the living fuck out of the dickhead.
“This guy bothering you?”
Who the fuck is that guy? His hand slips behind his back. Fuck me, he’s offering to kill Joey for Lips?
What the actual fuck?
Every time I think I know what the actual fuck is going on with her something like this happens and I’m back to square fucking one with no idea of who the fuck she is.
“He’s just a guy with too much money and too little respect for how things are done in the real world, boys.” Lips says, her voice strong and confident. She sounds cold and calculating though, none of the girl I know showing through.
The second guy is shitting himself. He’s sitting there like he needs to climb out of his own skin to get away and his eyes are anywhere but Lips.
“What’ll it be then? You need me to take care of him?”
Fuck, I wish we could say yes. I almost hope Lips does say yes but Floss and Ash would never forgive her. The twisted mess of a web that their family is in would give a saint a fucking headache.
“I’m here to go to school, not start a war. Head home, boys. Hannaford isn’t the place for you.”
They leave immediately, not a single question for her once she’s given them the order. The guy who was doing the talking comes over and shakes my hand. I frown at him but, fuck, I guess this is what happens when I belong to the Mounty.
Once the car is gone, peeling away from the back parking lot with squealing tires, Joey turns back to us, completely fucking clueless to how close he’s just come to his brains being blown the fuck out.
“Who the fuck are you, Mounty?”
Isn’t that the million dollar fucking question.
Play The Game
Prologue
Harley
I’m forced to walk behind the sick fuck who is holding Lips at his side, pressing her into him until they’re moving as one.
Every eye at Hannaford is on us, the building is holding its breath as we walk out to the waiting car. It’s a statement, a public claiming, and when we return to school for our junior year Lips will be treated with a whole new level of suspicious reverence. I’m going to fucking hate it, but maybe it’ll keep her safe.
The BMW waiting for us is the same type my grandfather owns. It looks fucking showy, but it’s the unseen elements that make it worth well over the mil mark. Bulletproof, flame retardant, and supposedly able to withstand a bombing, it’s not a status symbol.
It’s a vehicle built for war.
Diarmuid drops his
arm from where it’s slung around my shoulders to open the door and usher me in. Lips warned me about protocol and I know this is a clear move from my uncle, telling the Jackal I’m a protected player. I hate it; I hate what my life is costing everyone, but if it keeps Lips safe too, then I’ll play along.
He climbs in beside me and we sit in the rearward facing seats. It’s risky because I’ll be facing Lips and there’s no way I can look at her while the Jackal watches us both.
He watches her like he fucking owns her. He watches her like he’s picking out the inches of her skin that he’s going to brand with his mark to keep her chained by his side.
I fucking hate it.
The rage that grows inside my chest expands until I can’t breathe and it’s only the echo of her words, the rules she told me back in her room, bouncing around inside my skull that stops me from reaching forward and choking him the fuck out. My uncle sits beside me, grinning like a fucking idiot, and I try not to look back at the posturing dickhead that keeps kissing and touching my Mounty. I know he’s just trying to get a rise out of me, but you know what? He’s succeeding. I keep my eyes on my own hands or on the Jackal’s hands.
He’s gripping her knee hard enough that it has to be hurting her. It’s her bad leg, and she’s just gotten over the flare up. She ignores him, doesn’t attempt to brush him off, and I know she’s trying not to provoke the sick fuck. I want to kill him.
When, finally, the barren, gray wasteland of Mounts Bay looms over us, he breaks the silence in the car.
“Where are you staying this year, little Wolf? I’ll check your security and make sure you are safe,” he murmurs and I clench my fists. Diarmuid nudges me discreetly. I take a deep breath and force myself to unclench.
Lips hums under her breath, a habit she’s picked up from Floss, and says, “Take us to the docks, Luca.”