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But my dad sent me there anyway. And I would probably have died, beaten up by a crowd of NSC, if Nathan White hadn’t pulled me out of there.
What for? He’s their boss now. We refused his deal, refused to work for him, and he took it to NSC.
So why the hell am I sitting on his kitchen island, holding ice wrapped in a cloth to my busted lip?
“Being brave has to be timed perfectly.”
It takes me a few seconds to come back from being lost in the depths of his midnight eyes. The chant of a siren has nothing on the ocean that swallows you when you look into Nathan’s eyes.
“Worried about me being killed?” I rasp. Talking out loud hurts my ribs.
I’ll get over it quickly. It’s not the first time I’ve gotten beaten up. The war between the North Shore Crew and the Kings started long before I was born. Being in trouble is the way I grew up.
“I just think it would be a shame for such a pretty thing to get hurt beyond repair.”
He doesn’t mean it. I can see it right away.
Still, my heart skips a beat, blood rushing to my ears, but I narrow my eyes at him. “Is that how you hit on girls? Save them from being beaten to death, bring them to your house, tell them they’re pretty?”
A chilling smile curls his lips. It’s not subtle, and he makes no attempts at stopping it. For a second, I wonder how long it’ll spread. It ends up wide enough to be haunting.
“I’m an opportunist,” he explains calmly, hiding nothing of his horrible personality. “I like to help myself before others jump on an occasion.”
I snort and look away from him so I don’t lose composure. “Sorry to break it to you, but many have jumped on the occasion to fuck me before you.”
He reaches next to me, grabbing the tumbler of whiskey he helped himself to when we arrived earlier. He didn’t offer me one, and I didn’t bother asking. I’m not planning on staying here. The only reason I haven’t run away yet is because of self-preservation. I know not to anger a big player.
Swirling his whiskey, the amber liquid sloshes to the side. He stares at it before looking up at me. “But did they jump on the occasion to fuck you when you were vulnerable? When you were ready to do anything to keep your family and your crew out of trouble? When you were in such a dire situation, you went all the way to your enemies’ territories to ask for a truce?”
His eyes stay frozen on me as he talks. I’m trying to look for something in them, but I’m met with an emotionless presence. He’s accusing himself of abusing someone vulnerable, warning me that’s exactly what he’s planning on doing, and his voice is as flat as someone ordering a meal at a drive thru.
I’ll take a vulnerable woman with my burger, please.
When I don’t answer, he tilts his head to the side. “Would you do anything to save your crew?”
It’s always the most handsome ones who are the most fucked up. I see Nathan around town. I see him coming to check on NSC, making sure the territories he’s acquiring for his boss are going to make the Bianco family richer.
Everyone notices him.
He doesn’t look like any of us. He’s a real criminal. The kind that walks around in a suit, always looking his best when he causes chaos. Tattoos peek above the collar of his shirt, on his hands and knuckles, letting us all wonder how many more he’s hiding under the black button-down.
He’s handsome; he wears glasses that make him look smart. He’s not raw like us. We wear our misery on our faces. We make ourselves look tough. We show the tattoos of which crew we belong to. Because the tougher you appear, the less likely someone will come and look for trouble.
Nathan isn’t like that. He wears a perfectly molded mask.
Real monsters hide under pretty faces. Or how would they get so close to their victims?
I bite the tip of my tongue as I observe him. Wondering if I’m going to have to fuck him to get out of here, or if I could just hop off the counter and walk out the door. I doubt the latter is an option. And I doubt the former would be that easy.
I bet Nathan White fucks like he kills. And I’ve seen him kill… It’s terrifying.
“Yeah,” I finally say. “But not the way you think.”
He cocks an eyebrow at me. The only sign that he is potentially interested in my opinion. “Tell me what I’m thinking.”
“You’re thinking I’m going to drop to my knees and suck your dick. Offer you anything you want so that, in exchange, you stop NSC from unleashing their fury on the Kings.”
I thought I’d see at least a spark of interest in his eyes, but nothing shows.
