by Laura Lee
Ainsley laughs. “You asked.”
I point at her. “I did not ask. For future reference, I never want to hear about your sex life. Ever.”
My sister scoffs. "Don't be a child. We're legal adults, and it's perfectly okay to have a healthy sex life, whether you're male or female. Besides, you're the one who lost his virginity at fourteen, four years before me, so you have no room to judge.”
“I’m not judging.” I hold my hands up in a conciliatory gesture. “But I still don’t want to hear about you fucking my best friend.”
Reed's sexual preferences aren't exactly vanilla. The last thing I need is to think about him doing that shit with my sister.
“Speaking of best friends...” she says. “You talk to Bentley lately? I’ve been worried about him since everything went down with Jazz. I’m sure he’s thinking about Carissa a lot right now.”
I shrug. “He seems okay so far, but I’m keeping an eye on it.”
Ainsley sighs. “Bentley tries hiding it, but I know it still hurts him pretty badly.”
I swallow the lump in my throat. “Yeah, I know.”
“When’s the last time you saw him?”
"Right before I came home, actually. Ran into him at Jazz's house, and we got burgers after."
Her eyebrows lift. "What was Bentley doing at Jazz's?"
“He was fucking taking a nap with her.”
Ainsley’s hazel eyes widen so much, they look like they’re about to pop out of her skull. “Seriously?”
“Yep.” I pop the P at the end of the word.
I frown as the image of Bentley and Jazz wrapped around each other darts into my head. It drives me crazy knowing there’s a mutual attraction between them, and not just in a physical sense. Granted, it’s not nearly as strong as the connection Jazz and I share, but it’s there nonetheless.
Frankly, it’s confusing as fuck because I want my best friend to be happy. After Carissa died, Bentley blamed himself and subsequently shut down his emotions almost entirely. Hell, he still blames himself, even though he has no reason to. Bent drowns himself in pussy, liquor, and weed on the regular to quiet all the shit running through his brain.
I was beginning to think he'd never allow himself to get close to another girl again until Jazz came along. It's been pretty fucking obvious from day one that Bent's smitten with her. The only problem with that is I have no intention of giving her up. Bentley's like a brother to me. I'd do almost anything for him, but I'm not bending on this. I can’t.
My sister's lips quirk like she thinks this whole fucking thing is hilarious. "How did that go? I can't imagine you were pleased."
I stretch my neck from side to side, trying to alleviate the sudden tension. "How do you think it went? Bentley was his usual wiseass self, and Jazz was being obstinate as fuck."
Now Ainsley’s full-on laughing. “Dude, you’ve got your work cut out for you with that one.”
“Tell me about it.” I bite the tip of my thumb.
“God, I love her,” my sister says wistfully. “It’s nice having another girl in the fold again.”
A smile breaks free, despite my current irritation. Ainsley has trouble forming relationships with other women since she's not superficial and catty like most chicks we know. Jazz is her first friend since Carissa, and even though I was a dick about it at first, I'm glad she has someone to talk to about girly shit. She sure as hell will never get that from our dad's wives.
“I need you to do me a favor.”
Her expression sobers. “What?”
“I need you to find out what happened at the lake. Jazz won’t talk to me.”
Ainsley shakes her head. “Kingston, I’m not going to be your spy.”
“I’m not exactly asking you to,” I assure her.
“What exactly are you trying to find out?”
I shrug. “Jazz already put my biggest fear at ease, confirming she wasn’t raped, but nothing else.”
Ainsley remains silent.
My eyes widen. “Did she tell you what happened?”
She shakes her head. “Not entirely. I do know some details, though.”
“And you didn’t think to share them with me?” I throw my hands up. “What the hell, Ainsley?”
“I’m not going to betray her trust, Kingston. Don’t you think she’s been through enough? You don’t need all the details to know it was pretty freakin’ traumatic.”
“I do need the fucking details, Ains. How are we supposed to catch these guys if we have nothing to go off of? The police don’t have any leads.”
She eyes me curiously. “How do you know that? And how did you know there were two of them?”
I’ve shielded my sister from a lot of shit over the last two years, but I think it’s about time to clue her in on some of it. I’ll only tell her enough to keep her safe, though. Some things, she’s better off being in the dark about.
I take a deep breath. "I hired a private investigator to look into it. He's been working on something for me for a while now, but he's also trying to find the fuckers who attacked Jazz."
“Why did you already have a P.I. working for you? What are you not telling me?”
“Something shady is going on between Dad and Charles Callahan. Possibly Madeline, too. They’re too damn good at covering their tracks, though. I couldn’t dig up shit on my own, so I hired the investigator to look into it.”
“Something like what? And what happened to make you suspect them of doing something so sketchy in the first place?”
“Ains, I don’t want to drag you into it until I have more evidence. Let’s just say...I’m fairly certain they have a lucrative side business that’s really messed up and highly illegal. Based on some recent information I’ve obtained, it’s been going on for almost two decades, possibly longer.”
Her eyes widen. “Like drugs?”
I shake my head. “Worse.”
She stares at me for a moment. “What are you planning to do when you get the evidence you’re looking for?”
“Put them away for life, where they belong.”
Ainsley’s jaw drops. “You’d put Dad in jail? I know he’s a dick, but geez, Kingston, that’s harsh. He’s still the person who’s half responsible for giving us life.”
This is precisely why I haven't told her up until this point. Our dad has treated us like we're nothing more than an inconvenience our entire lives, but she still loves him for some reason. I, however, have not had that problem in a long time. Maybe not ever.
I rub my jaw. “Ains...I need you to trust me on this. I promise I will tell you everything soon.”
Some might think it's a huge risk telling her anything, but I have no doubt my sister's loyalty lies with me when all is said and done.
She hangs her head. “Fine, I won’t say anything about the Dad situation. As for Jazz, the best I’ll do is try convincing her to talk to you.”
“Thanks. John—my P.I.—got a copy of the police report, but I don’t think it’s telling the whole story. Something doesn’t feel right.
Ainsley tilts her head to the side. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know.” I shrug. “It’s just a feeling I have.”
“I’m seeing her this weekend, so I’ll talk to her then. Since she’s still supposed to lie low, we’re just gonna order pizza and watch movies.”
Well, well. Looks like the guys and I have a girls’ night to crash. Jazz will want to string me up by the balls if I show up at her house before a full week has passed, but she’s not likely to maim me with an audience, so I’ll take my chances. She’s about to see firsthand why my persistence always pays off.
If she had any doubts about the legitimacy of that statement, they’ll be erased by this weekend.
CHAPTER EIGHT
JAZZ
“Hey, chica!” Ainsley bursts into my room, two reusable grocery bags hanging off her arms.
“What’s in the bags?”
She smiles. “What else? Chips, popcorn, c
andy. You can’t watch a movie without loading up on copious amounts of junk food.”
I chuckle. “I thought we were ordering pizza?”
“Already did,” Ainsley replies. “One large pineapple and black olive for you—which is disgusting, by the way—and one triple pepperoni for me.”
“Hey, don’t knock it until you try it.”
“Nope.” She shakes her head. “Never gonna happen.”
“It’s your loss.” I shrug.
Ainsley looks around the room. “So, where should I set up? DoorDash says the pizza should be here in about ten minutes.”
“The main theater room is in the basement, but I really don’t feel like going down two flights of stairs. If you don’t mind lounging on a sectional, we can use the game room down the hall.”
“Sounds good to me.”
“I just need to pee real quick. Meet you there?” I slide out of bed and head toward my ensuite.
“Sure thing, Jazz.”
When I finally make it into the game-room-slash-mini- theater-room, Ainsley is already playing the first movie. I smile when three black Honda Civics appear on the giant screen, their drivers on a mission to hijack a semi filled with electronics.
“God, I love this movie.”
“Me too,” Ainsley agrees. “If we play ‘em back to back, we should have time to get through the first three installments before I need to jet.”
I shake my head. "Nuh-uh. As far as I'm concerned, the second and third movies don't exist. We're going straight from the first to the fourth."
“I’ll give you that.” Ainsley laughs. “The only good thing that came out of either of those two movies was the addition of Ludacris’ character.
“Totally,” I agree.
I find a comfortable position and spread a fuzzy blanket over my legs. Just as I’m reaching for the bag of popcorn Ainsley had set between us, the door bursts open.
“Somebody order pizza? The delivery guy arrived right after me. Talk about perfect timing.”
My head swings around to find Bentley standing in the doorway, two boxes of pizza in his arms.
“What the heck are you doing here?” Ainsley took the words right out of my mouth.
Bentley takes a few steps forward, and right behind him are his two besties. Ainsley's grin stretches across her face as she spots Reed. I'm pretty sure I have the exact opposite expression on my face as I look at Kingston.
Bentley sets the pizza on the coffee table, flips the lid, and grabs a slice of pineapple olive. "Why else would I be here? I heard we're watching movies."
“Hey!” I shout. “That’s mine.”
He takes a huge bite, plops down on the middle of the couch, and makes a funny face as he chews. “That shit’s nasty.”
I roll my eyes. “Here’s a solution: Don’t eat my damn pizza.”
Bentley starts picking off the olives and flicking them into the box. “Nah, this works.”
While Bentley and I are arguing about the pizza, Reed sets the drinks down and takes a seat next to Ainsley. The only remaining spot on the couch is to my right, which Kingston quickly occupies, effectively wedging me between him and Bentley.
Great.
“So much for giving me time,” I mutter.
Kingston's stupidly full lips tilt up in the corners. "One of these days, you'll learn patience is not my virtue."
“Oh, trust me, I’m already well aware of that.”
Now he’s full-on grinning. “Then what’s the problem?”
I shoot daggers at him with my eyes. “You. You are my problem. I swear I’ve mentioned this before.”
Bentley swings his arm over my shoulders. "Pull them claws back in, kitty. C'mon, what's the big deal? We're all just here to chill and watch some movies. Hell, I'll even order more food, so you don't have to worry about sharing your gross-ass pizza."
“My pizza is not gross,” I pout.
Bentley laughs. “Whatever you say, baby girl.”
“Don’t patronize me, Bent.”
He presses a palm to his chest and gasps. “I would never. I’m just sayin’, if you want to make out with me during the movie, could you maybe pop a mint first?”
I give him my best stink-eye. “Don’t worry, Bentley, my mouth won’t be getting anywhere near yours.”
“We’ll see about that.” He winks.
Kingston reaches over me and smacks Bentley on the back of the head. “Shut up, asshole.”
Bentley rubs the back of his head. “Dick move, bro.”
Kingston narrows his eyes. "Keep your hands to yourself, and we won't have a problem."
Bentley shakes his head and mutters something under his breath.
“Uh, guys,” Ainsley interrupts. “Can you pause the sword fighting so we can watch the movie?”
Kingston gets off the couch and flips the overhead lights off.
“Hey! What’d you do that for?” I ask.
He falls back onto the cushion beside me. “There was a glare on the screen.”
No, there wasn't, but I keep my mouth shut because I'm sick of missing the show. I do my best to focus on the fast cars and man candy on the screen, ignoring the idiots on either side of me. Sadly, I'm only doing a half-assed job because Kingston's woodsy cologne smells way too mouth-watering. I actually sniffed him at one point, but he didn't call me on it if he noticed.
Halfway into the third movie, I get fidgety because I really need to stretch out, but the sectional isn't large enough. It's supposed to seat eight, but the three giant boys and their incessant need to manspread take up a large chunk of space. After several pathetic attempts to rotate my body, I finally give up with a huff.
Kingston leans into my ear. “What’s wrong?”
“I can’t find a comfortable position.”
“Would lying down help?”
“Probably.” I shrug. “But there’s not enough room to do that.”
“Sure there is,” he insists. “Put your head on my lap and lie down.”
I snort. “I am not putting my head in your lap, Kingston.”
"I wasn't asking you to suck me off, Jazz. I'm just trying to help." His face is illuminated enough to see the heat burning behind his eyes as if he's visualizing me doing exactly that.
Nope, not gonna go there.
“Thanks, but no thanks.”
“Bent, scoot your ass over,” Kingston demands. “Jazz needs to lie down.”
Bentley smiles. “You can lie on me anytime, Jazzy.”
Kingston pulls the throw pillow out from under his arm and chucks it at Bentley. “She can lay her head on that. On the couch.”
I eye the pillow longingly. “There’s still not enough room.”
Kingston pats his thighs. “Put your head on the damn pillow and throw your legs over my lap.”
“Fine,” I mutter, carefully laying on my side and stretching out. I’d hate to admit it, but this is much more comfortable.
Kingston adjusts the blanket, so it's still covering my body and rests his hands by my ankles. "This PG enough for you?"
The position is perfectly innocuous, but my hormones haven’t gotten the memo.
"Yep." I turn my attention back to the screen where there's a ridiculous, implausible, yet totally awesome chase scene.
Kingston's thumb is rubbing circles right above my ankle, which is becoming increasingly more difficult to ignore. Heat is blooming beneath my skin, causing a dull ache between my thighs. I don't know if I'll ever understand this connection he and I share. Kingston's hardly touching me for fuck's sake, but I feel like I'm melting into a puddle of need. It's like there's this inherent bond between us, something that transcends logic. It's even worse now that we've had sex. Knowing what it feels like to have him moving inside of me, the sound he makes when he comes, I’m practically salivating at the thought of doing it again.
But that’s not going to happen, I remind myself. Kingston’s hiding something from me—several somethings—and until I know what that is, I can't pos
sibly consider trusting him, let alone having any relationship with him. Those niggling doubts in my head will never go away while there are so many unknown factors. Why was he so intent on pushing me away at first? Why did he feel it was necessary to bully me, humiliate me, take incriminating pictures of me? God, that in itself should be an unforgivable offense, but oddly, it's the least of my worries.
I want to know what he's hiding about our parents and why he thinks I couldn't handle it. The conversation we overheard between our fathers goes against everything I know about my mom. Sure, she didn't have the best taste in men—Jerome and my father being great examples—but she wasn't promiscuous. Hell, the only time I saw her with a man during my childhood was her brief relationship with Jerome.
When I was fifteen, maybe sixteen, I asked my mom why she never dated, and she told me that Belle and I came first. She worked so hard to support us, she was so focused on ensuring we grew up to be strong, independent women, it left no time for anything else. It just doesn't make any sense that she would have ongoing casual sex with two considerably older men who she had nothing in common with.
I'm so lost in my head that I don't even realize the movie had ended until Ainsley got up to flip the lights back on. I blink rapidly as my eyes adjust to the brightness before carefully sitting up. Out of habit, I start cleaning up the food mess, but Bentley slaps my hand away and takes over.
“You look wiped, baby girl. The boys and I will get this before we take off.”
I didn't realize it before now, but I am pretty tired. Usually, I wouldn't be so sleepy at ten o'clock, but recovering from multiple injuries isn't exactly normal for me.
“You sure?”
Bentley frames my face with his large hands and smacks a kiss on my forehead. "Positive. Go to bed, and we'll see ourselves out."
“Thanks, Bent.”
I can feel Kingston waiting for my attention, but I address Ainsley first.
“Thanks for the movie night idea.”
“Of course. Do you still want to hang out tomorrow?” She looks at each one of the guys pointedly. “Without these interlopers?”
“Hey!” Bentley says. “That was a little rude, don’t you think?”