by J Bree
Every night for the last week of school I go to sleep with at least one other person in my bed. There’s no more kissing because the guys all seem worried about Avery’s self-confessed castration skills but it helps me to settle into being close to them. I mean, they’re too fucking hot and I can’t think about them agreeing to share me without ruining my panties but I no longer blush at their mere proximity.
On Wednesday there’s an argument over dinner about who has to take the couch and Avery kicks them all out. I wake in the morning with my face smooshed into Harley’s chest and Avery yelling at him for breaking in. She rants at him all day until he finally admits he swiped her keys on the way out and then used them to get back in when he knew she’d be asleep. Sneaky little shit.
On Friday Avery is getting ready for her end-of-year ballet party and tells the guys they have to clean out all of their clothes they’ve left behind. I’m sitting on my bed and stressing about leaving Hannaford tomorrow. I don’t know how to be in a relationship at all and now I’m trying to navigate a secret plural relationship long distance, with a mobsters son, a murderous billionaires son, and a rockstar. I try to be subtle about asking what the hell we’re doing but I’m not exactly a subtle kind of girl. Harley laughs at my attempts.
“Where are you staying in Mounts Bay? Like I said, I’m taking two weeks to visit my Ma and then I’m staying in the Bay. I can get a hotel or stay with you, your choice.”
He’s folding shirts Avery left in a pile on her bed for him and shoving them in a bag while she throws things into her dance bag. Ash is digging through her closet and Blaise is raiding the fridge for beer. I take a breath and just drive in. “Look, Avery’s informed me that there's going to be… wooing.”
“What the actual fuck is wooing?” Harley sounds appropriately disgusted. Blaise roars with laughter, the type that makes him throw his head back and clutch his stomach. It's a good look. He hands Harley a beer and lounges on my bed as he drinks his own.
Ash sounds smug as he calls out, “Avery is secretly eighty years old and thinks that wooing is the current terminology for-”
“For what, Ash?” Avery cuts in sweetly. He pauses and she knows she's got him trapped. It's hilarious and anxiety inducing. Then he shocks the shit out us both by smiling at her and just laying it out there. “For starting something important.”
Right. I tug on the front of Blaise’s Vanth shirt to get his attention. It’s not the one I got back from Harlow for him but it’s still super rare. “I really don't care what we’re calling it. I'm taking this shirt. I'm also taking that black one of Ash’s, and Harley’s grey sweatshirt. I'll give them back after the break.”
Blaise stares at me, stunned, and then sits up to reach over his head with one arm and pull the shirt off in the typical hot guy way. When he hands it to me the fabric still warm from his skin. I'm getting better at containing my swooning but sweet lord. Fuck. Me.
No, seriously.
Fuck. Me.
He's all golden skin, colorful tattoos, and toned muscles. I struggle to focus anywhere other than his naked torso. I'm not sure what I was expecting to happen when I literally told him I wanted the shirt from his back but it sure as shit wasn't this.
“Thank you.” I squeak and he fucking winks at me before rooting around in his bag to pull on another one.
Avery side eyes the shit out of me and then she grins. “How long have you wanted that Vanth shirt?”
I shrug. “Oh, you know, all my life. I'm totally lying, he’ll have to pry this from my cold, dead hands. I know at least eight Mounty girls that would gut me for it so I’m going to wear it to the next party I have to go to.”
I see the glimmer in Harley's eyes as he laughs with Avery and for a second I'm afraid he's jealous. When he tugs his sweatshirt over my head I instinctively inhale and take in a big lungful of his heady scent. He watches me and the glimmer turns into something predatory. I love it.
Avery waves at us all and then heads out for her party. Ash wanders back over from the closet with an armful of his clothes.
“You're taking our shit so you can smell us while we’re gone? That's horribly sappy, Mounty.” drawls Ash but he hands over the black shirt I requested and then neatly piles his clothes into a box.
“I'm weird. I wear guys shirts and sweaters with booty shorts and skirts. I listen to the same three albums on repeat. I like French toast, coffee, and cherry anything. I don't function my birthday or Christmas. I can kill a grown man eight different ways with nothing but my bare hands. I’m never going to be normal.”
Ash grabs my chin and stares down at me, the blank mask gone and in its place a smoldering intensity. I can’t look away.
“If you're trying to warn us off it’s not going to work. We've never agreed to anything as quickly as when we agreed to share you. I'm not planning on wooing you, I'm planning on doing whatever I need to do to get to keep you.”
I swallow and he licks his lips.
“I want us to keep you. I don't want you all to myself, I want to share you with my best friends and I want you to love every fucking second of it.”
There isn't a lie in his eyes, only plain truth and desire. I nod and he eases up a little with a smirk.
“I won't get out of bed before the coffee machine is on. I hate blues music and listen to Vanth as religiously as you do. I run track because it makes me feel like I'm dying and sometimes I need to feel like that. I miss my mom and I hate my father. My brother is trying to kill me and my father is taking bets on how long it’ll take him to succeed. Finding Joey standing over Avery's lifeless body broke something in me that I don't think I'll ever be able to fix. I’m a bigger monster than you because I don't give a fuck who you've killed or why you did it. In fact, from here out I’m helping you bury the bodies.”
It’s totally ridiculous but I fixate on probably the least important thing he’s said. “I cannot believe you're a Vanth super fan and you've given me all that shit about it. You're a real piece of work, Beaumont.”
Blaise sniggers behind me like it’s some big fucking secret they’ve been keeping from me and Ash smirks as he says, “I told Blaise he should get you to sing on his next album. I'll listen to that on repeat, too.”
My heart stops beating.
That is the best, worst idea ever and you know what? I'm all fucking in.
“I’ll write you a song, Mounty. While you and Arbour are shacked up and loving every second of the break, I’ll mope around New York with my parents and write you love songs.” Blaise sulks and Harley throws an empty coat hanger at him. I pass him the iPod and he flashes me a gorgeous grin.
“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.” says Blaise and I hear him grunt as someone hits him. “What? I'm allowed to appreciate my girls ass, e
specially 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.” I say 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 Louboutin’s 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.” grumbles Ash.
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?” says Ash.
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 eye’s bounce over each of us until they land 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 I hear Ash hiss 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 hellbent 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.
Acknowledgments
A huge thank you to Laura Frazier for beta reading, midnight texts, speculating about storylines, gossiping about our mutual love of SJM, sending me whiskey, putting up with my spoilers, and being a supportive friend when everything went to shit! You can’t know how much you have touched my life and helped me get through a really dark time for my family. This book was made possible by you <3
Thank you to Laura Marrero for beta reading, cheerleading, swapping photos of hot guys, listening to me ramble, and being such a supportive member of the indie book community. I am so glad you reached out to me!
And thank you to my amazing readers who gave JDO a chance and came back for more Hannaford madness. I hope you come back for Year Three.
About the Author
J Bree is a dreamer, writer, mother, farmer, and cat-wrangler. The order of priorities changes daily.
She lives on a small farm in a tiny rural town in Australia that no one
has ever heard of. She spends her days dreaming about all of her book boyfriends, listening to her partner moan about how the wine grapes are growing, and being a snack bitch to her two kids.
If you want to know when J’s next book will come out, please visit her website at http://www.jbreeauthor.com, and sign up for the newsletter or join her group on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/groups/388270491862258/