Page 22 of Good Girls Beg

"Sweetheart, you have no idea," he said.

There it was again, the sense I knew him from somewhere. It was right on the edge of my brain. I almost pinned it down, but then it slipped away. It was possible I imagined it and didn't know him at all. He wasn't a friend, that was for sure. I doubted a year would change that. I'd be lucky to get through a month without wanting to punch him in the throat.

I reached the bottom of the contract without seeing anything that made me question it. Most of it we'd already discussed, including the couple of items I'd already asked for. They'd anticipated me.

I supposed my conditions were logical. No one wanted to spend a year locked in the basement. Did they? Maybe they did, but I didn't.

"I don't see your signatures on here," I said.

I was hoping I'd see their names written at the bottom, but the lines were left blank, except an X beside mine. My full name was already printed there, and as was the date. The only thing I needed to add was my signature.

"We'll sign after you do," Mr. Middle said. "It's not legally binding until then."

Was there a base he hadn't covered when it came to keeping his identity secret? I suspected not. They'd put a lot of thought into this. So much, I should probably find it disturbing. Had they done anything like this before? Hell, they might walk through life collecting women.

Was I the only one who'd be living with them? I could be one of many.

Why did that thought send a jolt of irritation through me? I owed nothing to these men. I knew nothing about them, except they were generous with their money, and Blondie smelled good. Nothing in the contract to suggested they couldn't fuck a million other women in the next twelve months. I was the one on the leash, not them.

I bit my lip and considered for a moment before I raised my finger to the screen and signed the document. I pressed on the button at the bottom to save it. A second later, Mr. Middle's phone pinged.

He signed and passed his phone to the other two to do the same.

"What now?" I asked. "I suppose I should pack. Where am I supposed to live?"

I should have asked that first. For all I knew, they could have a house in Alaska. That wouldn't work with me continuing to study. Not at Saltgrave College, anyway.

"We have a house not far from here. I've emailed you the address," Mr. Middle said. "We expect you there tomorrow morning."

"I have class tomorrow morning," I said. Were they going to go back on their word so quickly?

"Tomorrow afternoon," he said instead. "Our house is five minutes from the college. You should be there by ten minutes after the end of class."

A very short leash then.

At some unseen signal, they all stood, shuffled out from behind the bench, and walked toward the parking lot. Only Blondie glanced back over his shoulder. His expression unreadable behind his mask. His eyes gave away nothing.

I didn't smile. I just stared until he turned away.

Gaping, I watched them climb into a black SUV. The windows were tinted, so I couldn't see if they removed their masks before the engine started and the vehicle pulled away. I thought about running to my car and trying to follow them, but my car wouldn't keep up with theirs. If it decided to start in the first place.

"That didn't go how I expected," I said to myself.

I picked up the piece of paper and looked at the number again. A couple of kids ran past, stopping to stare at me. They must have heard me talking to myself. I gave them a reassuring smile and watched as they ran on. How the hell was I going to explain this to Lyra?

And my fathers.

CHAPTER NINE

HEL

"Are you sure about this, bro?" Fade Mitchell tossed his keys on the stand beside the door and turned to confront me. "She looks like nothing but trouble to me."

I pushed past him. "You didn't give a shit when you were there with your comments about coming." He'd been trying to get a reaction out of her, but it hadn't worked. I hadn't expected it to. His 'ray of sunshine' routine wasn't going to rattle a woman like her.

"Just having some fun with her." He followed me to my office and invited himself to sit in the leather chair on the opposite side of the desk from mine. Sat back and crossed his legs at his knees. His dangling foot jiggled.

I was surprised he didn't sit in my chair and pretend he owned the place.