“Don’t pretend like you know me.” My tone is snippy, and Sariah quirks a brow. I know I’m letting them get to me, and it’s infuriating. But every time I’m in their company, they scramble my thoughts, crank my hormones to Richter-scale level, and seriously mess with my sanity. No one pushes my buttons more than The Sainthood, and it’s getting harder to hold onto my cold, emotionless state.
“I do know you,” he says, lifting his eyes to mine.
“No. You don’t.”
Parker’s high-pitched giggle assaults my eardrums, and I turn my head just in time to watch Saint squeeze her ass before sending her back to Finn. I grind my teeth so hard to contain the vitriol that begs to be unleashed it feels like I’ve given myself lockjaw.
“The princess doesn’t like Parker’s hands on you,” Caz tells Saint as he reclaims his seat beside me.
“Too bad she doesn’t call the shots,” Saint drawls, smirking as he clamps his hand down tight on my thigh.
“Listen up,” Galen shouts, jumping up on his chair. “Party at our place Saturday night.” A succession of pings rings out in the room, and everyone moves to check their cells. “Free booze and baggies. Invite only. Check your cellphones.”
Sariah checks her cell, opening the invite she’s received, cursing as she shoots daggers at Saint. “Momma Westbrook will never permit you to throw a party at her house.”
Truth. It’s Mom’s pride and joy. She’ll cut their balls off if they trash her house.
“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.” Caz grins, winking at me.
“And she won’t be a Westbrook for much longer,” Saint adds with a sneer.
I wonder if she’s ever truly been a Westbrook. Has she been a Lennox all along?
“How are you planning on getting her out of the house?” I ask, idly tapping my fingernails off the tabletop as if I’m bored.
“She didn’t tell you?” Saint’s lips curve up. “Dad is whisking her away for a romantic weekend. We’ll have the whole place to ourselves Thursday to Sunday.” He slides his hand higher up my thigh, but at least, I’m clothed this time and I’m wearing underwear. He strokes his fingers at the apex of my thighs as he presses his hot mouth to my ear. “Think of all the fun we’ll have.”
_______________
Mom is up bright and early Thursday morning to cook breakfast for everyone before she and her obnoxious fiancé leave for their weekend of debauchery. Saint referred to it as a romantic weekend away, but I doubt Neo has a romantic bone in his body.
Tying women up and torturing them is more his style.
The eggs I’m chewing feel like sandpaper in my mouth as the thought lands in my mind, and I find myself fearing for Mom until I remember she’s a lying cow who invited a monster into her bed while it was still warm from my dad.
She’s on her own with this.
I shovel another forkful of eggs into my mouth to avoid engaging in the lively wedding conversation happening around the dining table.
Who knew teenage delinquents were so invested in wedding planning?
The four assholes are full of suggestions as they use fake charm to try to woo Mom to the dark side.
It’s not taking much, which only confirms my suspicions.
“I was thinking you could wear a dark purple dress to match Saint’s tie,” Mom says, dragging me kicking and screaming into the conversation. “It would look great in all the photos.”
I take my time chewing the food in my mouth, before dabbing the corners of my mouth with a napkin, and then I speak. “I thought one usually wore black to funerals.”
“Harlow, please.” Mom’s eyes well up, but I’m not falling for it. Not now I know she’s had a lifetime to practice her acting skills.
“If you’re insisting on forcing me to participate in this fucking charade, I’ll only wear black.” I throw my napkin down, pushing my chair back and rising to indicate I’m done with this convo.
Strong hands land on my shoulders, pressing me back into the chair. “You’ll wear whatever the fuck your mother wants you to wear,” Neo says, his voice sending chills down my spine, and they’re definitely not the good kind. “And you’ll act like you fucking love it. Something tells me you’re experienced at faking it, so I’m sure you’ll manage.” He digs his hands into my shoulders, inflicting pain, but I don’t even flinch.
The underlying threat is crystal clear, but I would’ve relented without it, because I’m playing a carefully constructed part. “Fine,” I snap. “I’ll cooperate.” I push Neo’s hands off my shoulders, unable to feel his touch on any part of me without my skin crawling like a thousand fire ants have burrowed their way under my flesh. I stand, leveling Mom with one of my special death glares. It’s a look I’ve never had cause to send in her direction before. “I’ll be the model daughter even if I’m hating every second of it. You faked being the model wife long enough; I’ll just take my cue from you.” She gasps, but I ignore her, grabbing my half-eaten plate and walking to the sink. I scrape the dried eggs and overdone bacon into the trash can underneath.
“Harlow, baby, please.” Mom chokes on her words, her eyes sad as she reaches for me, but I sidestep her.
“Enjoy your weekend, Giana. Don’t forget to pack your first aid kit. I have a feeling you’ll need it.”
CHAPTER 12
“MOTHERFUCKING ASSHOLES,” I yell, kicking my punctured tire. I glance at my watch, cursing under my breath. If they’d just deflated one of my tires, I could’ve changed it and still gotten to school in time, but the assholes have punctured all four tires on my SUV.
“New rules,” Saint says, entering the garage from the house. “You ride to and from school with us from now on.”
“Eat shit, asshole.”
I brush past him, but he grabs hold of my elbow. “Your little temper tantrums are getting old. Just be a good whore, and do what you’re told.”
I smile sweetly in his face as I slam the heel of my boot down on his foot. Instead of loosening his hold on me, he tightens his grip on my arm, his fingers digging painfully into my skin. A muscle pulses in his jaw as his other arm rings my neck and he squeezes tight. “I’m all out of patience, princess. And I’m done asking nicely.” I snort out a laugh, and his eyes narrow to slits. “I have no qualms about hurting women if they deserve it. Especially lying, thieving, manipulative whores,” he threatens.
He lets me go, pushing me away, and I fall back into a hard, warm chest. “Like father, like son,” I coolly reply, straightening up. Saint stands rooted in place, exuding rage that is both silent and lethal. He flexes his knuckles as he pins me with a look loaded with venom and the promise of retaliation, and a shudder works its way through me, but I quickly shake it off. “And the only manipulative whore around here is my mother.”
I spin around, shoulder checking Galen as I brush past him. He grabs a fistful of my hair, yanking me back. “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”
In a move Diesel taught me, I twist around underneath Galen’s arm and punch him in the nuts. He roars out in pain, instantly letting me go as he drops to his knees on the unforgiving concrete.
Saint grabs me by the shoulders, and he looks seconds away from going postal on my ass. But there’s begrudging respect there too although he disguises it so fast I’m not sure I didn’t imagine it. Saint hands me off to Theo. “Put her in the car.”
“I need to go to my room.”
Saint levels me with some serious evil eye.
“I’m on my period, and I forgot tampons,” I lie, and my sugarcoated tone matches the fake sugary-sweet smile on my lips. “Unless you’re happy for me to bleed out all over your shiny, new Land Rover.” Not that it’d be anything new. I’m sure the guys are used to cleaning up blood.
The gangster business must pay well because all the guys have sweet rides, and I can admit to myself that I’m dying for a spin in Caz’s Mitsubishi Eclipse.
“I’ll take her,” Theo says, clasping my arm.
I wrench out
of his grip and pin him with a look Voldemort would be proud of.
“Hurry the fuck up,” Saint snaps, extending an arm to haul Galen to his feet.
Galen grabs my neck before Theo can shepherd me away. “Touch my dick again and I’ll chop off your tits and shove them down your filthy mouth.”
“Not before I castrate you and shove your dick up your ass!” I bite back.
“Get her out of here before she winds up dead,” Saint says, and I grab my backpack, letting Theo usher me away.
He drops my arm when we reach the kitchen, and I stare straight ahead, pretending I don’t see Neo’s hand moving under Mom’s skirt as she leans over the sink, rinsing dishes. I fold my arms around my body and ignore the rancid churning in my gut.
“He’s not so bad once you get to know him,” Theo murmurs as we climb the stairs.
I shake my head in disbelief. “I already know his soul is pitch-black.”
“Things don’t have to be so hostile, Lo. We don’t have to be your enemy.”
I twirl around at the top of the stairs and jab my finger in his chest. “Don’t act so fucking naïve. We’re on opposite sides, and everyone knows this is the way it has to be. Pretending otherwise fools no one.” I head toward my bedroom with his footsteps heavy behind me.
He catches up to me just as I reach my room, spinning me around and slamming my back into the wall. My bag drops to the ground as he presses the length of his body against mine, holding me in place. The familiar feel of him against me raises a host of feelings I’ve worked hard to bury. “You’re still so fucking stubborn and so fucking angry.”
“I’ve good reason, Theo.”
He sighs, cupping my face as he peers deep into my eyes. His hazel eyes are more green than brown today, and a pang of longing for the past jumps up and slaps me out of nowhere. “I know, babe.” He looks at me the way he used to look at me. With comfort, familiarity, adoration, respect, and love, and it fucking slays me inside.
He doesn’t know this, but at one time, Theo was my savior. The reason I got up out of bed every day. The reason I chose to fight and not give up. Until he abandoned me and I lost the last parts of my soul. “Don’t call me that.” Hurt rushes to the surface, and I avert my eyes.
“If I said I’m sorry, and that I’ve regretted my actions every day since, would it help?” he pleads, caressing my cheek with his thumb.
“Not one bit. Your apology is too little and too late,” I say, shoving him off me.
Being around these guys is dangerous for me on so many levels.
“I’m sorry I hurt you, Harlow. I—”
I slam my hand over his mouth. “I don’t want to hear it, Theo.” I harden my heart and plaster a matching emotion on my face. “I. Don’t. Care. And I sure as fuck don’t care about anyone or anything connected to The Sainthood either.”
He shakes his head, pleading with his eyes and his tone. “All that kind of attitude will do is get you killed.”
I shrug. “I’d rather die staying true to myself than live a life that’s a lie.”
“Why haven’t you told them?” he asks quietly.
I shrug again, playing it casual. “That’s not how I roll,” I lie.
“It doesn’t have to be this way. I can bring them around if you just give them what they want.” He steps in closer, gripping both sides of my face in a tight hold. “I don’t want anything bad to happen to you. Please, I’m begging. Just do what Saint says. He’s a good guy, Lo. And if you get him on your side, he can keep you safe.”
I contemplate his words for about point five of a second. “Fuck you, Theo. And take your hands off me unless you’d like to be nursing your balls like Galen.”
He steps back, shaking his head, a muscle ticking in his jaw, as his expression morphs into something familiar. “You’re smarter than this. Engage your fucking brain, Lo.” He jerks his head at the door. “You have three minutes. Get your fucking shit, and let’s go.”
I grab my bag, slam the door shut, and lock it from behind, racing to my closet. I pull the carpet back and lift up the loose wooden panel in the floor, removing the box I keep hidden there. I grab the keys, before securing the box and rushing out to my window.
I climb out and shimmy down the side of the house in a well-practiced maneuver, slipping into the garage on the far side, ducking down low as I scan the layout. Saint’s Land Rover is gone, so he must be waiting in front of the house for us.
Perfect.
I dash to the Gran Turismo, taking a quick moment to run my hand along the sleek, black bodywork before throwing my backpack inside and sliding into the driver’s seat. I haven’t driven this car in ages, and I’m glad Dad’s cars haven’t been transported to the cabin yet. I decide on the spur of the moment to keep this car here as a backup because I doubt this is the last time the assholes will tamper with my SUV. I make a mental note to ask Diesel if it’s possible to get tamper-proof tires before I kickstart the engine, welcoming the familiar feel of the car as I floor it out of the garage.
This car can go from zero to sixty-two miles per hour in mere seconds, and I whizz by Saint’s vehicle as Theo emerges from the front door with a scowl on his face.
I flip them the bird, throwing back my head and laughing as I fly past them, taking the small wins where I can.
_______________
“Maybe Theo is right,” Sariah says, washing her hands in the sink as I touch up my makeup in the mirror. We’re early, thanks to our speedier than usual journey, and the bathroom is empty. “Perhaps, you should play along and act more amicable.”
I slick lip gloss on my lips and thread my fingers through my hair. “They’d smell a rat if I started cooperating all of a sudden.”
Sariah dries her hands on a paper towel, her brow creased as her mind works overtime.
I’m so glad I told her and the guys and that they are solidly behind me. It helps to have someone to bounce stuff off.
“Maybe you could play a different angle,” she muses, tossing the used towel in the trash.
“What do you suggest?” I ask, straightening the straps on my top.
“Maybe you should seduce them,” she says. “Get them to lower their guard and let you in.”
“I’ve considered that, but it won’t work.”
“Why not?”
I lean back against the wall with a sigh. “Because they’re already fucking with my head, Sar. I’m struggling to keep my emotions on lockdown around them, and getting closer could majorly backfire on me.”
“Please tell me you’re not falling for them?” she groans.
“Things are complicated between us. You know the backgrounds. And if Mom goes through with this wedding, which I think she will, then I’m tied to them more permanently. I need to find a way of getting the intel I need without falling into their trap.”
She taps a finger off her chin. “Focus on Caz. You don’t have shared history with him.”
I rub a hand across my chest. “Maybe, that’d work.” I push off the wall, slinging my arm around her shoulders and tucking the little pint-sized beauty into my body. “It’s worth considering at least.”
“Whatever it is you’re planning, it won’t work,” a whiny voice says, pushing into the bathroom, and I stifle a groan. It’s too fucking early to deal with Parker’s shit.
She’s flanked by Beth McCoy and another girl I don’t know.
“Whatever it is you’ve come to say, say it.” I separate from Sariah, and we stand tall with our shoulders back, facing the three girls.
“Saint is mine.”
I burst out laughing. “So fucking delusional.”
Her mouth pulls into an unattractive sneer. “I have something he wants, and he’s willing to trade.”
“What does Finn think is happening?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Finn is none of your concern!” she exclaims, and I’m tempted to tell her.
“And Saint is none of yours,” Sariah says.
“If eithe
r of you stand in my way, you’ll be sorry. This is a friendly warning. Next time, not so much.”
Her threat holds about as much weight as Nicole Richie. “Gee. I’m quaking in my boots,” I deadpan, snatching our backpacks up from the floor. I pass Sariah’s to her, and she slides it over her shoulders.
“You should be, whore.” She steps right up into my face.
I smile. “Your desperation makes you pathetic and careless.” I let the smile slip off my face on purpose. I don’t have time for petty distractions, and Parker is as inconsequential as the dirt under my boot. “Trust me, you don’t want to make an enemy of me, and that’s the only warning you’re getting.”
CHAPTER 13
“WOW.” EMMETT WHISTLES under his breath as I guide my friends into the house Saturday night. “Your place is something else.”
“I’m betting it’ll be fucking trashed by morning,” Sariah says, shedding her jacket and handing it to me.
“I’m betting it won’t.” I hang their jackets up in the closet and steer them toward the belly of the house where the party is in full swing. “This whole setup reeks of Neo’s involvement, and he probably has a cleanup crew scheduled to clean the house before Mom returns.”
“Fuck. You look hot,” Emmett adds, casting appreciative eyes over my short black leather dress.
It’s got a straight neckline and a myriad of straps that crisscross from my bust up over my shoulders, wrapping around the nape of my neck. It offers a glimpse of cleavage without being too slutty. The dress dips to midway down my back, showcasing some of my tattoo. “That’s a work of art,” he murmurs from behind as he inspects my ink.
“It’s an avenging angel,” I confirm.
“I fucking love it, and it’s so you.”
“Thanks.” I offer him a genuine smile as I smooth a hand over my scalp. My hair is pulled back in a sharp ponytail, and I’ve gone all goth with my makeup with thick black liner and mascara and my signature red lips. The few vodka cranberries I’ve enjoyed before my friends arrived have taken the edge off, but I’m still in control, and that’s important because I want to be firing on all cylinders tonight.
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