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To do what? Apologize?
Doubtful.
I don’t want to let him get near me again, though. I don’t need any more of his mind-obliterating touches tonight.
I’m pissed at him right now, just like I was when I came to the house. Regardless of what happened during the hours in between, I want to stay that way. It’s the only emotional response to this man that makes any sense. All of my other feelings toward him are a chaotic mess I can’t even get a handle on.
So before he can move, I pivot on my heel and walk quickly toward Theo’s car, yanking the front passenger door open and sliding inside. I roll the window back up, and I don’t look toward Marcus again as the car pulls smoothly away from the curb.
I don’t know what kind of car it is, but even I can tell it’s a nice fucking ride. It probably cost more than two years of my rent. The inside has a pleasant smell, a mixture of that distinctive “car leather” scent and something else. Something woody and a little sweet, like dark cherry and oak.
I have a feeling that scent is coming from Theo, and I do my best to ignore the way it tickles my nostrils, warm and addictive.
We drive in silence for a few minutes, with only the soft sound of the radio filling the car.
I don’t bother to tell him where I live. I’m sure he already knows.
His gaze flicks over to me a few times as he drives, one large hand resting languidly on the wheel, his muscled forearms stretching the rolled sleeves of his Henley. The expression on his face is a mixture of curiosity and amusement, and I try to keep my own features on lockdown so he can’t read anything on my face.
The air outside has turned cold in the absence of the sun, and my tank top feels too thin and flimsy. I rub my amputated arm with my good one, wishing I could properly wrap my arms around myself.
Theo reaches over and turns a knob on the dash, then flicks the air vents so that warm air blows toward me. He presses another button, and the seat beneath me begins to heat up.
The warmth relaxes my tight muscles a little, and despite myself, I find my gaze flitting over to study his face.
“So do you just do whatever Marcus tells you to all the time?” I finally ask. “Are you at his beck and call twenty-four seven, or what?”
Theo grins, keeping his gaze on the road. “Not exactly. But when he needs me, yeah. I’m there.”
“Why? Are you his groupie? Did you lose a bet to him or something?”
I’m needling him a little. I want to get a rise out of one of these guys, and I’m still pissed about the way Marcus basically forced me into accepting a ride home. I’m pissed that there are three of them and only one of me, which means they always have the advantage.
The smile slips from Theo’s face, and when he turns to look at me, his expression is dead serious. “No. No bet. But Ry and I would follow Marcus into hell if he asked. We owe him. A lot more than any single debt.”
My stomach dips a little at the sudden change in his demeanor. From what I’ve seen, he’s the most easy-going of the three men, which makes it disturbingly easy to be drawn in by him, to be taken by his charm.
The way he’s speaking right now, though? The darkness that hovers behind his blue-green eyes? It makes me positive that he’s been through just as much shit as his two friends have.
“Why? What’s your deal? Are you guys in a gang or something?”
Fuck. I told myself I didn’t want to know anything else about Marcus or his friends. But this feels like it doesn’t count, because I’m not asking Marcus directly. And my curiosity is too powerful to ignore.
Besides, if I want to have any chance of getting them out of my life, maybe I should be learning more about them. Gathering information to use against them if it comes down to it.
Theo chuckles. It’s a freer sound than Marcus’s laugh, as if he can actually still find humor in things. “Nah, not exactly. We’re just close friends.”
“What do you all do?” I glance around at his fancy as fuck car and his casual but clearly expensive clothes. “Let me guess. You designed an app that took off and made you millions.”
He laughs again, seeming truly amused by that. “Nope. Good guess though. Ryland and Marcus are both involved in their family businesses.”
“And you?”
“I’m…” He shrugs lightly, shifting his grip on the wheel. “Trying to get my own thing going.”
“What thing?”
He cocks a brow at me. “You ask a lot of questions, don’t you?”
