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“You don’t have to lie if it’s not nice enough for you, Princess,” Kace grunted.
I looked over at him, surprised that he’d spoken to me again. Twice in one day was a lot for him. It felt sometimes like he went out of his way not to speak to me at all. Out of the three of them, he always felt the most hostile—more so than Bishop even. He didn’t actually do or say anything threatening, but there was something about his heavy silence that made the fine hairs on the back of my neck prickle.
“It’s not a lie,” I said, straightening my spine. A thrill of nerves ran through me as I lifted my chin, standing up to Kace. It felt a little like passing my hand through fire and hoping I didn’t get burned. “It’s just… listen. You can’t just expect me to get it, and get this, to get you guys, just because you tell me what to do and bring me random places.” I folded my arms. “It’s a nice set up for what it is. I just don’t… get it. Why out here? Why not somewhere else? You know, one of your places or a park or something.”
The three of them exchanged a l
ook, then burst out laughing.
“Wow, Princess. A park or something? What are we? Five? You wanna ride the merry-go-round?”
I rolled my eyes and scoffed. “You know what I mean. I just… don’t know what people here do for fun. That’s all.”
“It’s alright. You can say you’re out of the loop because we don’t have fancy cocktail parties or whatever,” Misael laughed.
“Maybe she thought we should hang out on a yacht,” Kace put in blandly, the intensity of his light moss-green eyes belying the casual tone of his words.
I shook my head. No answer I gave would have been good enough for them—they all still thought I was nothing but a spoiled rich brat, and everything I said seemed to convince them they were right.
But, whatever. I was here, as they’d requested. Now it was just a matter of figuring out what they’d brought me for, and why they thought it was necessary.
“Fuck. You really do look like a little lost lamb.”
Bishop came up and stood beside me, nudging me with his shoulder. He held out a bottle of opened beer to me, beads of sweat already gathering on the dark glass. I eyed it. Aside from a glass of champagne or wine at a gathering or event, I didn’t really drink. Even at my parents’ massive parties, the one thing that’d always kept things tame was the fact that personal image was everything—and ending up sloppily drunk did nothing for someone’s image.
“Come on, Princess.” Kace spoke up again. “There’s no one here to go back and tell Daddy his little girl wasn’t behaving herself.”
I wasn’t sure if he was talking so much because he was comfortable in this place, this little hideaway, or because he just really wanted me to loosen up. But whatever the reason, I found that I liked it. His gruff voice was equal parts scary and soothing, but something in me wanted to keep him talking, to hear more of what he had to say. To break open the facade and see what the boy beneath was really like.
Bishop tilted his head toward his friend in silent agreement, keeping the bottle held out to me.
I was apprehensive. But I was also curious. The two feelings clashed inside me just as strongly as I always seemed to with these boys. Right now, my carefully controlled upbringing was telling me that ladies shouldn’t drink beer out of bottles in warehouses with strange boys they hardly knew.
But that wasn’t the world I was living in anymore. That life was no longer mine. This new version of Cora did go to warehouses with strange boys, and no one cared enough to stop her.
So why shouldn’t she try a drink? Why shouldn’t she live while she still could?
“Come on.” Bishop’s voice dropped, the low tone dripping down my spine like honey. “Loosen up. That’s why we’re here, anyway.”
I eyed him curiously. “Excuse me?”
“Uh uh.” He shook his head, lifting the bottle a little higher. “You drink, we answer. That’s the deal.”
I gave a skeptical scoff; deals with the Lost Boys seemed to end with them coming out on top more often than not. Still, I took the beer from him, and after eyeing the bottle for another moment, I tipped it back.
Bottoms up.
Fourteen
The taste was… different. Potent at the front end, sharp at the back. Swallowing burned, but I’d be damned if I was going to spit it out. I took the swallow and gasped a bit as I pulled the beer bottle away from my lips. My body felt warm. A weird tingle went down to the tips of my fingers.
“Took that like a champ.” Misael whistled, lifting his own bottle in a sort of mock salute.
I flushed. “Deal’s a deal,” I said, looking up to Bishop. “Why am I here?”
“Because you agreed to it,” he answered with a shrug.
That son of a…
