Make Me Yours (Top Shelf Romance Book 4)

by Devney Perry

  I throw back another drink.

  The sun has gone down farther now and fairy lights have come alive everywhere, giving us a brighter view without it being intruding.

  “Go on.”

  Delila takes another sip of her drink. “Okay. That’s all.” I know it isn’t, but I allow her to say it. “Just take care of them. One is very special. More than the rest.” I sigh, sinking the rest of my champagne and craving something stronger. When I look to Delila, I can see she’s in pain. The least I can do is put some of this out of her reach.

  My hand comes to hers. “I promise I’ll take care of them, Delila.”

  Her eyes fly to mine, glassing over slightly. I watch as her face relaxes. “I know, Perse.”

  “So!” I stand from my chair, putting my glass on the ground. “Do you want to come out with us tonight, or are you on babysitting duty with my new family?”

  Delila chuckles. “You girls go have fun.” Her smirk deepens, and I see the Delila I met all those months again. “While you can.”

  King

  I lost her.

  Chapter 35

  P

  Couple hours later, the music is blaring in my ears, the lights flashing in my eyes. I’m so drunk I can barely walk straight, let alone think straight and not one single fuck is given. I’ve walked through my life caring too much. Caring about how I’m going to get food. Caring about my weight. Caring about whether or not my piece of shit mother cared about me, when in natural fact, I don’t care. At least not anymore.

  Rose grabs onto my hands, pulling me into her and grinding against me. Maya and Val are around us with Maya beside her as the music takes over all of us. I’m not sure if Maya and Val have taken anything else other than weed, but they seem way too into this dance. “Alive” from Offset and 2Chainz is pulsing through the oversized speakers, the strobe lights flicking. I bring my glass to my mouth and throw back the rest of my drink. We decided to venture to the clubs about an hour ago, and I’m undecided whether it was a great idea yet. I’ve never been against clubbing, but again I’ve never been hot on drinking. I’d be happy to not drink ever, but since being with Midnight Mayhem, their culture has latched itself into my bones. I twist around to the beat, flicking my hair around the place and losing myself in the intricate beat, booty dropping to the ground and twerking my way up. Tensing my abs, I flick around again until hands are steadying me.

  “Whoa!” the guy mutters, his eyes searching mine.

  “Sorry.” I laugh, shaking my head. “Didn’t mean to stand on your foot.”

  His eyes are green up close, his skin a beautiful soft brown, and his cheeks puffed. He’s hard and strong, and not bad to look at.

  “You didn’t stand on my toes.” He yells into my ear. “You come here often?”

  I snort, leaning into his neck and inhaling his smell. Like a weirdo. “Does it look like I come here often?”

  He pauses, searching my eyes before chuckling. “You’re right. You don’t look like you come here, but you can dance, so…”

  “Really?” I raise an eyebrow in challenge. “You know about dance?”

  “I mean.” He shrugs, rubbing his palms together. “I know you can do that cute little thing with your ass while I stand here and look good.” The song remixes into “Bed” by J. Holiday. A bit slow for my vibe, but whatever.

  “Oh, okay!” I grin, turning around and flinging my hands up, keeping everything still but my torso. I grind to the music as the chorus comes on, my eyes landing on Rose briefly who is shaking her head furiously at me. I wink at her playfully as I lean over and touch my toes, grinding my ass into his crotch. I refuse to turn around, continuing my dancing, rolling my body side to side. I reach for his hands and bring them to my stomach, widening my knees as I drop back down to the ground and rubbing against him, flicking my hair around.

  Again my eyes land on Rose, who is giving me serious eyes right now with Val, Mischa, and Maya smirking beside her.

  I spin around, laughing and bring my eyes up to Mystery Dancer, and then stop.

  Mystery Dancer is no longer there.

  King is glaring down at me, his eyes feral.

  I step backward, but his hand hooks around my neck, shoving me into his chest. His lips come to my ear. “Stop fuckin’ around and get your ass home.”

  I shove him. “Fuck you.” I turn back around to either get another drink or go to the bathroom, but his arm hooks around my stomach, twisting me back into his grip. His fingers wrap around my chin, tilting my face up to his. His eyes glare through me, hitting every single empty corner of my deranged soul and filling it with his presence. “I go for two days and you’re already trying to fuck around.”

  “I don’t have to try, King!” I yell, and I’m well aware that my hands are doing that thing when they’re flying around everywhere. “I can if I want.”

  His eyes lift over my shoulder and I turn to follow them, landing on Killian, Kyrin, and Keaton.

  I chuckle. “Well, of course.”

  His finger hooks into my underwear through my dress and he pulls me back into him, my back crashing against his chest. His lips come to the crook of my neck, sending butterflies and chills all over my flesh. “I’m not playin’ this game, baby. You know who the fuck I am now. Don’t fucking test me.”

  I bite down on my lower lip for self-restraint before spinning around to face him. “I’ll talk to you.”

  “The fuck. You’ll do more than that!” He catches me around my waist and pulls me into him, pressing two fingers into his mouth and blowing out a whistle to gain attention from the rest of the boys who came with him. I don’t ignore the way everyone stares as we walk out the club. The girls drooling and the guys trembling in fear.

  When we hit outside, King nods his head at one of the bouncers. “Later, boss man.”

  A limo pulls up to the curb and King swings the door open. When I don’t budge, he glares at me through hooded eyes. Is he half drunk? “Get in the fuckin’ car, P, before I throw you in there.”

  I roll my eyes as chuckles sound out behind us. Sliding in, I lean over the console and grab the champagne straight away. Popping off the bottle, I take a swig as everyone else piles in.

  “Jeez, King. She can’t go to the club?” Maya blazes a joint, knocking on the window that separates us from the driver.

  King doesn’t say anything, his thigh pressing against mine.

  I remain silent, drinking my champagne.

  The window rolls down and Maya requests a song.

  “You disappear for two days, and then come back and drag me out of a club?” I ask when it begins to be too much.

  “Yeah, so?” King answers, brushing me off like I mean nothing. He pulls out his phone and starts flicking through his contacts.

  “King!” I yell, clicking my fingers in front of his face.

  He ignores me, his eyes staying on his phone.

  “Why!” I hit the phone out of his hands, and it goes flying across the car. Everyone quietens.

  King looks right at me this time. “Oh, wait, you think this is because I’m pulling some jealous boyfriend act?” He laughs, and then looks at Killian. Just when I think he’s going to continue, he shakes his head and leans back in his chair. “I can assure you, P, that’s not what this is. You can fuck whoever you want.”

  “Really?” I say in my drunk state. I call bullshit on his bullshit. Lucky for us, the drive isn’t that far away. My eyes drift over all of who is in the car. Obviously, Keaton is out. Incest isn’t really my thing, but Kyrin I know for a fact would be down. Killian has loyalties that are probably stronger than his sexual urges.

  My eyes lock onto Kyrin.

  His narrow.

  I smirk.

  He chuckles, shaking his head and leaning back in his chair. “Oh boy. Well, all right then, Little Bird.” His eyes come to mine, his tongue coming out to whip against his lip. “Come use my cock.”

  I shake off my seat, leaning forward to flash my ass directly in front of
King. I don’t know why I’m playing with him right now because I’m still mad. Mad at him, and The Brothers, and everything.

  King’s hands come to my hips, and he yanks me back into my chair, so hard it could almost pass as domestic fucking abuse. I glare at him, his hands flying to my throat. “You so much as go near his dick, and you won’t be able to walk for a fucking week, and trust me, P, it won’t be from his.”

  I whack his hand off my face. I’m too fuming to even realize we have pulled up at the compound. The limo stops and I reach for the handle, flying out of the limo.

  “Oh no, you don’t get to fucking run away from this!” King comes up fast, interfering my footsteps until I crash into his chest.

  I shove him. “Fuck you!” Tears threaten to spill down my face, but I fight them. I fight my misery with anger, because if I let my sadness roll out, I’ll drown in my tears. “You lied to me, King! You lied, stalked, stole, and lied to me! I feel so fucking betrayed by you! By you, King! Not from anyone else!”

  He doesn’t say anything, his shoulders rising and falling as he takes in deep breathes. His square jaw is clammed closed, his eyebrows knitted together. He inhales my sharp words and swallows them, because deep down, he knows he deserves them.

  I carry on. “On top of it all, you,” the tears spill down my face and I swipe at them angrily, “you offered me up as a fucking sacrificial lamb! All for fucking what?”

  He winces. “You were Dove then.”

  “Like that makes it okay!” I yell, my hands doing that thing again. My head thuds from the alcohol.

  “You we’re my fucking task, P! This is my life! I didn’t get to walk away from it like you did and have for the past ten or so years! This is what the fuck I do!” He steps forward and I swallow. “You want me to have emotions, baby? To be soft and that same little boy you knew all those years ago?” He tilts his head, leaning down until his lips come over mine. “I will never be that boy. He died when you died.” He licks my bottom lip. “One cannot exist without the other.”

  I shove him away and run toward my RV, pushing open the door. Tears are streaming down my face when I roll into bed and drift off into a deep sleep.

  P

  I’m scrubbing up in my shower the next morning, my head pounding when flashbacks of the night before come pounding through my head. “Oh God.” I massage my temples. The fighting with King, him finding us in the club, the fighting with King. I’m still angry with him, but he doesn’t deserve my words or my wrath.

  I turn off the faucet, stepping out in my towel. Dressing in double time, I settle for ripped boyfriend jeans that hang off my waist and show the strip of my G-string and a crop top. Delila called this morning to tell me I have to meet my new recruits and I don’t know why, but I’m nervous. What if they’re not what I want? I can work with anything, but what about their personalities? I have to live with them.

  Rushing toward the tent, I ignore the people walking around whispering, probably about mine and King’s explosive argument when we got home last night. I run into the tent.

  “Sorry I’m late!” I yell before I look. I pause when I see that The Brothers are all sitting in the chairs. King has his foot up on the back of a chair, his hoodie drawn over his head, shading half of his face.

  “Good!” Delila claps her hand. “I’m glad you made it.”

  “Hmm.” I smile at her, taking a seat on the ground in front. There are a few people scattered around, but the ones I always find myself drawn to are the four psychos.

  I fight it, noticing the three people near Delila.

  She points to a small girl with long, dark brown hair, soft, flawless skin, and the brightest blue eyes I have ever seen. She is drop-dead beautiful. “This is Saskia.” The girl bows her head between her shoulders, resting her forehead on her arm.

  Delila carries on, pointing to another girl with blonde hair. “That’s Callan.” She’s beautiful too, classically. You can see the beauty they hold even beneath whatever darkness each of them is carrying. Looks like Delila already scrubbed them up and put them in clothes too, thank God.

  Delila finally points to a young guy, who can’t be older than me. He looks to be around eighteen—if that. He’s slim, without being skinny, and his facial structure is made for an upper-class fashion magazine. Most of the guys from Kiznitch are good-looking, and when you see The Brothers, that only sells you on that, and this guy is no exception.

  He tilts his head up to look me right in the eye, a small smile on his mouth. “And that,” Delila points her perfectly manicured finger toward him, “is Kenan.”

  “Okay.” I clear my throat. “Do any of you dance?”

  “Yes,” the blonde girl says, clearing her throat. “I do, and so does Kenan.”

  “And you?” I ask to the ridiculously stunning brunette. “Do you dance?”

  “Oh, she doesn’t talk much.”

  I chuckle. “I can relate to that.” Looking up, I catch King’s eyes, and then bring myself to their level. “What about freestyle?”

  They all nod, and Kenan stands in front of me, his eyes twinkling with mischief. Oh boy. He’s trouble. “Such an honor to meet you, Perse.”

  I scan his hand that’s out to meet me before slipping mine into his. “You too.”

  He jumps onto the stage and the two others follow behind him. Delila sneaks up beside me, her arms crossed. “They’re going to do great, Perse.”

  I tilt my head, running my fingers over my face. “I hope you’re right. Hey, while I have you here.” I smirk, turning over my shoulder slightly to catch the boys all staring at me. “For our acts, would it be too much to ask for the same face makeup that the boys wear?”

  Delila cocks a brow. “Oh, you’re brave.”

  I laugh, jumping up onto the center stage and ignoring everyone behind me.

  “Okay,” I say, looking around at all of them. “I get that this might not be ideal for you all to do so quickly.”

  “Perse?” Kenan interferes and I look straight at him. “We’re good, baby girl. You’ll see.”

  I exhale a shaky breath. “Okay, good. I put a lot into this, and I don’t want to be an asshole, but it would be a huge relief if I didn’t have to train you.”

  “You don’t,” Saskia murmurs, and then as if she’s surprised she’s answered, she looks around at all of us. “Train us, I mean.”

  I nod, smiling at her. “Good. So, I’ll play a song, and I want you all to just do what you feel like you want. This song is pretty mellow, but I feel like it loosens your soul and makes it easy to express yourself. The quicker I see your style, the better.”

  They all agree, and I spin around, glaring at Delila.

  God, I hope she’s right.

  I ignore the magnetic pull that is coming from the boys, and from King, picking up my phone and hitting play on “Breathe” by Mako. I hope to erase the memories this song gives me of King and me, and I hope to do that now. With this dance.

  The song starts playing and I slightly watch them as they slowly form into a dance line, as if choreographed. They are talented. I can see it already.

  When the beat kicks in, I roll around and wave my hips to the rhythm. Swinging my hand out, another hand catches onto mine and Kenan pulls me into his chest. I turn in his grip as the verse comes in again. I roll slowly off him, sweat spilling off me already—all of that alcohol—and when the chorus kicks in again, he throws me out while holding on to my fingers and I dance around him, him moving against me perfectly. Holy shit, Kenan is incredible. My eyes find King’s and I’m locked in. My breathing harbors and my eyes flutter closed. His finger is running over his upper lip, his eyes somewhat shaded by his hoodie. His knee is jiggling, and I can tell it’s agitating him. The song finishes, and I step out of Kenan’s grasp.

  “Smooth. Very smooth,” I joke, shaking my head.

  Kenan winks. “Yeah?”

  I jump off the stage and pick up my phone again, still catching my breath. “The song that we will be doing fo
r our first act will be ‘Copycat’ by Billie Eilish. I have the choreography in my head so I’m going to start laying it out. Though I feel like you all have a good platform of dance so you should catch on quickly.” I inhale, taking another breath when King’s hand comes to my belly. I stop breathing. He pulls me in closer and I feel him against my back. Ignoring him for now, I keep talking, “We’ll play it through. I want you to dance how you want so you can warm up with the song and your body can become warm to it, and then I’ll show you the move—Jake! Play the song and thank you!” I spin around in King’s grasp. “What are you doing?”

  “I need to show you something. Now.”

  I lick my lips. “Okay, I’ll follow you out.” I follow behind him after yelling at my new dancers to warm up for a few seconds. Once we hit outside, I reach for his arm. “What do you need to show me?”

  “It’s in the RV.” His tone is clipped, even though his body language is loud.

  I follow him to the RV and inside when we reach it.

  The smell hits me first. Blood. The distinct scent of metal. My eyes come to King who is watching me as I close the door. “What have you done?”

  King smirks, pulling out a pack of smokes and putting one between his lips. He flicks open the Zippo, and when the light catches it, I recognize it straight away. “King!” I scolded him as I continued to chase him through the forest, diving over fallen branches. “You’re running too fast.”

  “Or are you just too slow?” He grinned as he ran backward.

  I growled out as I zipped forward, only my foot clipped an old branch and I was falling, straight for the dirt ground.

  “Ouch!” I yelled, pushing my palms off the mud.