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Picking up my coffee, I said goodbye to Brad and headed out the door, pissed the fuck off.
Lars. That no good, piece of shit, motherfucker. How didInot know? Fury punched me in the gut. I’d noticed the murderous gleam in his eyes, but I thought it was because I’d kicked his ass in front of a crowd of people. If I’d only known what he was capable of, Moni would still be alive. I’d let him get away, and he’d killed her.
No. It hadn’t been Gretchen’s fault. Letting Moni go to the fight alone hadn’t been what killed her. It was mine. I am the one who didn’t kill him last night when I had the chance. Men like Lars never changed. I’d met a few before back home—a few I’d gone to high school with—and needless to say, if their asses hadn’t already ended up in prison, they would someday.
Need for revenge burned in my gut. I needed to find him, make him pay, let him know Moni was important—that her death would be avenged. No fucking way would that bastard get away with this shit. Not if I had anything to do with it. I’d been raised to not only take care of me and mine, but to also stand up in the face of adversity and take down a motherfucking bully. Lars had no idea that I’d be running into him again, and soon.
Making my way to campus, my heart pounded as anger continued to build inside me. I needed to talk to Emma.
No… I needed to talk toRoman.
And I needed to find a gun.
Roman
Asher strode into my office with a grim expression, interrupting the staring contest I was having with the gift box on my desk. His appearance didn’t bode well for the family business. Or my sobriety in the middle of the afternoon on a workday.
“What?” I pulled a bottle of vodka from the bottom drawer. Whatever he’d dragged himself all the way in here to tell me was guaranteed to ruin the half-decent mood I’d been in since I’d followed Rylie back to Stonewall. “I hope you’re not about to fuck up my day.” I twisted the cap and took a long drink, studiously ignoring the gift I’d impulsively gotten Rylie.
Fuckin’ stalker. I’d even resorted to calling in a favor to make sure that everything in the box would be a perfect fit. And I cherished my favors, relished having a stockpile to call in when Ineededthem. This wasn’t a simpleneed.This wasobsession.It rankled. Hence the drinking I would’ve started whether Asher came in or not.
Asher tapped his fingers on the side of my desk, then took the bottle from my hands, turning to pour the clear liquid into two glasses I had sitting on the bar cart. Picking them up, he then slid one to me across the smooth surface. “Unfortunately, there was a murder on the campus at Stonewall today.”
He didn’t meet my eyes when I leaned forward, either, and I found myself panicking at the thought that Rylie could have been taken before I ever really had her. My gut clenched and I gripped the tumbler like a lifeline.
My heart raced, and my palms started to sweat. But I lifted my chin and stared with the hard angry look of a man who didn’t like the word “murder” on anyone else, didn’t let my little brother detect the panic that thrummed through every single inch of my body.
“Lars,” Asher went on because he had no idea my entire world had started to tilt to one side. If Lars touched Riley… “He killed that girlfriend of his, the one from the coffee shop on campus.”
My breathwhooshedout like I’d been holding it more than a couple seconds. “Thank fuck.” I breathed a sigh of relief that Rylie was okay. I swallowed down more of the vodka, trying to ignore the way Rylie had affected me after one night. “Well, you know we have to kill him now.” If he hadn’t already gone after Riley, he would. Once guys like Lars got the taste of death on their tongue, they always went back for more—couldn’t rein in their urges, wouldn’t bother with control.
Asher, ever the shrewd asshole, didn’t miss a beat. “You just met this chick, Roman, and you’re all in knots. What’s she got that the rest don’t?”
I didn’t have a good answer. So, when the knock at the door sounded, I was grateful, looking up like I was one of my mother’s doormen, anxious for a tip.
“Come in,” I called out loudly. When I glanced at my brother, his eyes narrowed into sharp little slits, and his nostrils flared like they always did when he was formulating a plan, determined not to let me get away with hiding shit from him.
The door swung open, and a delivery man walked in backward, clutching one side of the massive leather couch I’d ordered. The very one I’d ordered from my phone while I’d waited for Rylie to go back into her dorm room that morning. She might not be mine,yet, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t be, and in preparation for the moment I’d have her again, I needed furniture to do it on.
In my office.
Under my body.
On that couch.
“Right there,” I ordered when the younger man stared at me questioningly.
The black leather couch ended up against the wall, in the exact spot where I’d pinned Rylie the night before, and I fuckin’ smiled at the thought of taking her in my office. I was glad I waited. It would be much better to sit her on the sofa, slip her out of whatever pants and panties she wore, and bury my face between her legs. It was a start, anyway.
“Holy shit,” Asher groaned. “You had one taste. One fuckin’ taste, and now you’re buying furniture? Mom’s gonna be hearing wedding bells chiming if you’re not careful.” He stared at me like I was contagious. “Keep that shit away from me, man. We’re too young to settle down.”
Even as I opened my mouth to agree with him, images of Rylie walking toward me in a wedding dress danced in the back of my mind. Yeah, I needed to keep that shit to myself, locked down behind the wall of my independence. But I had to find a way to test her, and in doing so, I would be letting her know that after one night, I wanted to bind her to me forever. It would have her running for the hills. Those were words best left unsaid between me and Asher, though.
“Shut the fuck up, Ash,” I growled. “I don’t even know how I’m going to make sure she’s ready to join the Scorpio Society. I got a couch because I needed one. I don’t know if you noticed it or not, but my office is pretty sparse on the furniture front.”Liar, liar, pants on fire.
“And the box? The one on your desk that I’ve been amazing atnotbringing up, even though it’s sitting there staring at me. Begging to be opened.” His grin was overkill that was going to get one of his straight white teeth knocked out if he didn’t get rid of it quick. “You’re going to tell me that’s not for a brunette who’s already got half our family wrapped around her finger just by existing?” Asher moved to stand in front of me, then plopped onto the brand-new couch, and I drilled my fingers on the desk, considering whether or not to pull my gun from the top drawer and shoot him myself.
“The box is a gift, and it’s none of your business.”
