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“Damn it,” I groan, flopping back into my seat. He has a good point.
He grins wide, that stupid pride of his shining brightly once again so I flip him off just to be a petty bitch. Carver flies out of the car and looks back at me through his open door. “Don’t go anywhere,” he tells me. “I mean it.”
I roll my eyes and make a show of locking my car door and Carver just winks, his stupidly beautiful face making everything clench deep inside me. Without another word, he closes the door and pulls his hood over his head, trying to conceal himself from the people around us.
He breaks into a light jog and I watch as he slips around the side of the building, bypassing the main entrance with the kind of confidence that would have anyone thinking that he was supposed to be there.
Carver disappears out of sight and I rest back into my seat, keeping my eyes on the building, and ten minutes later, just as promised, Carver comes racing out of the building, his face as white as a ghost telling me that he saw more than his fair share and it’s not something he ever wanted burned into his mind.
I laugh as I watch him before realizing that he’s not heading this way. “Oh, shit,” I panic, remembering that I’m supposed to be running with him. I scramble out of the car and race across the street to the empty lot. Carver reaches the black sedan ages before I do and by the time my ass is crashing down into the front passenger seat, Carver is already peeling out of the parking lot.
“What happened?” I rush out, hating that blank expression on his face.
He just shakes his head. “I just … wrong room, okay?”
“Wrong room?”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” he spits. “Ever. Got it? Don’t ever bring it up again, okay? Promise me. Never again. Promise, Winter.”
“But like … what did you see? Was he in his diaper or did he change it up and go with a dog kink? Did he have a collar and a leash? OH! Was he hardcore head-to-toe in latex with a ball gag?” I laugh, grinning back at Carver while watching his face drain of color by the second, while knowing that I will probably never see him like this ever again. Though, a guy like Carver has seen it all so I can only imagine what kind of fresh hell he just walked in on.
“ELODIE FUCKING RAVENWOOD. NEVER AGAIN.”
I just laugh, sinking back into the seat as Carver speeds down the narrow streets of Ravenwood Heights. I try to go over our plan, which really isn’t a plan at all. We’ve already done the hard part—stealing a car that will get us through the gate without detection and seeing as though at least three of the Dynasty families possess this exact same car, we figured it was a safe bet, as long as we keep our faces concealed.
Next up, actually getting through the gate, getting down to my property, and through the front door without a damn person seeing us.
Piece of cake. I think.
It takes all of two minutes to reach the main gates of Ravenwood Estate and Carver slowly approaches with his phone in hand. He stops by the keypad and searches something before grinning to himself and confidently entering a code.
The gate pulls back, just as it should. “Whose code was that?” I ask, glancing at him as we roll on through the gate.
“Earnest’s,” he laughs. “Apparently his car key wasn’t the only thing I was going to steal today.”
I roll my eyes as I shake my head but as we approach the big house at the end of the street, my nerves quickly bubble up and wreak havoc in my gut. “Are we doing the right thing?” I question, slipping my hands under my legs to keep them from shaking.
“Who fucking knows?” Carver grumbles, “But if it all goes south, just remember that coming back here was all your idea.”
“Be serious,” I tell him. “Should we call it quits and leave now while we still have the chance, or are we doing the right thing?”
“I can’t answer that for you, babe. All I know is that the whole way here, all I’ve been able to think about is getting my sisters back, and that we probably should have given the boys a heads up that we were coming back. You know them, they’re not so big on surprises.”
“Yeah, well, there’s nothing we can do about that now,” I remind him. “Besides, the guys didn’t give much thought to the fact that I don’t like surprises either and that didn’t stop them from blowing me up, so surprise, I guess. Call it an eye for an eye, though this is hardly the same thing. It’s more like a pinky finger for an eye.”
