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“And it looks like he was successful,” Rose spits in sarcasm. “She loves going for guys she can’t have. It’s a pattern,” she taunts even more.
“We’re leaving,” I announce to whoever wants to hear it. “Shut your mouth,” I hiss at Rose before pushing her out of the room. I don’t need to stay here. Billie isn’t in trouble with the Kings, she’s in trouble with us. They don’t need me to sort that shit out.
I didn’t have to drag Rose back to the car, she went more than willingly. But when she finally realizes I’m not going back to Stoneview, she pinches the bridge of her nose with her thumb and index finger.
“It’s been a long night, Lik,” she huffs. “What more could you possibly want?”
“I don’t want anything. I’m bringing you to your new place.”
“I don’t have a new pla—” Her eyes widen when she sees the underground parking lot I’m entering. “Come on,” she grunts behind clenched teeth. “He can’t be serious.”
“As cancer,” I mumble as I park.
Does she think I want her living closer to us? Does she think I want her suffocating flowery perfume, her freakishly long hair, and the smell of her brand of cigarettes all over the place I used to live in? We moved out of the penthouse just two months ago, when the first installment from the Volkov contract came in. I still have shit in there I need to move to the cabin. And this apartment complex is close to the forest, which means it’s close to the cabin we now reside in.
I don’t want her in the bed I used to sleep in. I don’t want her close to Sam…to me. I want her in Stoneview, where she can’t cloud my brain or force my heart to beat a little faster. I want her somewhere I never go to.
Nonetheless, Sam decided he wants her close; he wants her where he can keep an eye on her. So, we’re putting her in his old apartment.
She’s completely silent when I unlock the door. Somehow, between the parking lot and the top floor, she gave up on her ‘I don’t want to live here’ speech.
I close the door behind us and walk over to the L-shaped sofa. “Sam is on his way. Classes, this place, and wherever we take you to find the Volkov brothers. That’s what you’re allowed, princess.”
She was on her way across the living room—going from the doorway to the opposite side of the room, which leads to the hallway and all the other rooms—but she stops dead in her tracks.
“Stop calling me that.”
Her voice is as dead as one could be. The rasp is there, the deepness of it, but there are no emotions in it whatsoever.
I huff a chuckle. “I was wondering when you’d ask me to.” I twist my body around, putting an arm on the back of the sofa so I can look at her. “Just so I could tell you no.”
“You will.” That is all she says.
She disappears into the hallway, like she knows the place.
Like she knows the fucking place.
The bitch has been here before!
I don’t hear from her in the next five minutes I spend wondering at what point Sam brought her to his place. Yeah, they were childhood friends, but then Rose and Jake escaped their old foster dad, and they lost contact for three years. Sam only reappeared in her life during her senior year of high school, and he told me they weren’t close then. That Rose didn’t want to hear from him or spend time with him.
So why the hell would she ever go to his place?
Sam has always been adamant that she hated him when he came back. They didn’t spend time together.
So why? Why?
Jealousy flows heavily in my veins, making my blood thick and my heart pumping hard. I hear her reappear, and I want to taunt her more. Why should I be the only one fucking fuming while we wait for my lying boyfriend to show up?
“Been here lots, princess?” She doesn’t reply, so I slowly turn around.
Well, it’s confirmed. She’s been here before, or she wouldn’t know where to find Sam’s hidden gun. The one she’s currently pointing at me.
“Want to review your choice about calling me princess, Lik?”
“Don’t make me laugh.” I fake a chuckle. It’s easier to hide the fear of death when playing dumb. “If you knew how to use a gun, it wouldn’t have been so easy to get you to fold for us when you visited our lovely cabin.”
“I like your earring,” she tells me, pointing at the small golden snake dangling from my right ear.
