AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I’m sure they considered it and figured we were smart enough to be able to keep our shit under control.” A warning rings in Max’s tone. “So, we better make sure that happens, got it?”
“Whatever,” Easton mutters. “I can’t make any promises.”
“Just tell me where she is,” Max says tiredly. “Because I know she’s not in the room Mom’s been knocking on.”
Silence skips between them.
“We may or may not have put her in the attic,” Easton admits with a surprising hint of guilt in his tone.
“With my trunk,” Max hisses, and then the doorknob in front of me begins to twist.
I step back as the door swings open and a guy who looks a couple of years older than me appears in the doorway. Max, I’m assuming.
From what Gabe told me earlier, Max is twenty years old and the second to oldest. He’s also not a twin, although he looks a lot like Easton, only his chin-length hair is black. And like Easton and Foster, he’s sporting all black attire, except for a grey shirt. He also has leather bands on his wrists and a couple of intricate tattoos weaving up his forearms that create strange symbols and markings.
I wonder what they mean …
His vibrant green eyes widen when he spots me, and then he nearly trips over his feet. “Hey …” He looks me over, question marks flooding his eyes. “Okay, you so weren’t what I was expecting.” He glances at his brothers with his brow arched, not saying anything, just staring them down.
Strangely, Easton and Foster both squirm, something I didn’t think could be possible with how arrogant they both are.
“We told you she has eyes like lightning.” Easton shrugs as if this answers whatever silent question Max is asking.
When Max continues to stare him down, I smile to myself as Easton gets all squirmy. When Foster notices my grin, his lips curve upward, but then they hastily falter.
What is with this guy? And what secrets was Easton talking about? And what the fuck is in that trunk?
So many questions dance around in my mind, but evaporate as Max offers me a charming smile.
“You must be Skylin.” He sticks out his hand. “I’m Max. I’m the second to oldest in the fucking litter that is my family.”
“I know. Your dad told me who everyone was.” I eyeball his hand dubiously.
After the shit that’s gone on with Easton and Foster, I’m reluctant to shake it. Perhaps he’s going to pretend to be nice only so he can push me back and lock me up in the attic. Which, from what I just overheard, I’m guessing isn’t really where I’m supposed to be staying.
“It’s okay. I promise I don’t bite.” He holds back an amused smile as he urges me to take his hand.
Still a bit hesitant, I slip my hand in his. “It’s nice to meet you,” I mutter.
He smiles, but a crinkle forms between his brows as he holds my hand. “You’re like a blank canvas,” he mumbles confusedly. “I can’t read you at all.”
“Max thinks he’s a people reader,” Easton clarifies, nudging Max in the side. “Thinks being the key word.”
Max winces, but then his lips tilt into a smile. “Sorry about that,” he apologizes then reluctantly releases my hand. “I’m not really good with introductions. ”
“Me either.” My gaze skims the three of them, their rigid posture and the smirks are no longer evident on Easton’s and Foster’s faces. In fact, they’re all staring at me curiously.
Oh, now I’m a curiosity, huh? What happened to hating me?
Something feels off …
“But anyway.” Max clears his throat, causing Easton and Foster to look away from me. “I’m not sure what my brothers told you, but this”—he points up at the stairs behind me—“isn’t your new room.” He steps toward me, and I have to tilt my head up to meet his gaze. Good God, I’m tall, yet he makes me feel short. “I’m sorry for whatever they said or did to you. I’d like to say this isn’t how they normally act, but that’d be a huge fucking lie.”
“Oh, shut the hell up, Max,” Easton says with an eye roll. “Don’t pretend like you haven’t ever pulled a prank on a newbie.”
“Newbie?” I question. “You guys keep saying that … Easton said you don’t take a lot of people in, though …” I trail off, so lost.
“People?” Max muses with a genuine smile. “No, we really don’t.”
