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“They can fuck right off,” Beast grumps. “It’s Sunday.”
The banging stops, but the distinct sound of the front door opening reaches my ears, followed by heavy footfalls and the door slamming shut. Rattler and Beast are out of bed before I’ve fully processed what that might mean. They yank on jeans, not bothering to fasten them as they storm out of the room.
Before they slam the door shut, I catch an unmistakable voice. Reaper shouts up the stairs. “Let’s go, boys!”
“Get dressed,” Rattler says to me, “and stay here.”Fat fucking chance,I think. I get dressed, but quickly make my way to the top of the stairs so I can hear what they’re saying.
“Tonight… Ace has eyes on him… took care of it.”
“You can’t leave the prospect with her… don’t like it…” I frown. Whatever Rattler’s concerns are, Reaper doesn’t seem to share them.
“… not up for discussion. We gotta go, or this shit aint happening.”
There’s a pause and I see Beast at the bottom of the stairs, his eyes tight with worry. He nods his head, gesturing for me to come down.
“What’s going on?” I ask him quietly.
“Tonight.” It’s all he has to say. My heart pumps triple-speed. There are a lot of things to digest, none of which I want to think about right now. I wish the three of us could just go back to bed and pretend the world outside doesn’t exist. But then I think of Brandon and his sweet face, marred with bruises.
“Okay.” I squeeze his forearm and quickly let go, uncomfortably aware of all the eyes tracking the way I touched him. “Can I talk to you and Rattler before you go?”
Beast nods and addresses Reaper. “We gotta get our shit. Give me a sec.” He steers me upstairs, Rattler bringing up the rear. Pushing me into the bedroom we were so happily sleeping in fifteen minutes ago, Beast takes my face in both of his palms and kisses me hard.
Rattler pulls me to him the second Beast lets me go, wrapping an arm behind my back and tunneling the fingers of his other hand in my hair. He plants a kiss on me, and it’s so passionate, so desperate, that all it does is make that knot in my stomach worse.
“They’re leaving a prospect to keep an eye on you. It’ll just be a few hours.”
“Are you sure? About all of this?” I don’t like the unsettled look in their eyes.
Beast answers without meeting my eye. “It’s a solid plan, Elle. We’ll be home before you know it.”
12
ELLE
They fucking left me here with a prospect and game show reruns. Unbelievable. I amnotokay with this. I eye the prospect they assigned to watch me. He has a baby face and patchy facial hair. He’s making an attempt to grow out a beard and mustache, but it is not going well for him. Not at all. Unless he’s auditioning for a daytime TV series about pedophiles. In that case, it’s perfect.
My stomach churns. I don’t know what’s going on, but something about them leaving feels wrong. I stare at the TV, not seeing anything, while I try to talk myself down. My gut instincts aren’talwaysright… just most of the time. Rattler and Beast are fine. They know what they’re doing. Totally fine. No one is getting hurt. Well, no one that doesn’t deserve it.
I try to shut that little voice up, but the longer I ignore it, the louder it screams at me. It wails and gnashes its teeth, drowning out the television, until finally, I can’t take it anymore. Something bad is coming for my men, and if I don’t get to them, I’m afraid they won’t come home. I can’t bear that thought. It carves away at my insides, leaving me feeling hollow.
I have got to get out of here. If I can make it to the Sinner’s church, maybe I can figure out where they went. It takes me a second to piece together a plan, longer than it should have, really. It doesn’t help that Bob Barker is yelling and the big wheel is spinning, and the prospect is chewing his fingernails. It’s all very distracting, but I have it and I’m not in the mood to wait.
Phase one: act like a hormonal bitch. Fun! I stare at the prospect and his nail-nibbling like it’s about as appealing as a dumpster full of used diapers. “That’s disgusting. You’re going to make yourself sick. Do you have any idea how much bacteria builds up under the human fingernail? How old are you, anyway? Like seventeen?” I ask with a heavy sigh.
He just glares at me and turns back to his phone. Fair. I kind of earned that. “Whatever. I need to use the bathroom.” Prospect doesn’t look up this time, just waves a hand in the direction of the hallway. So charming.
I shut and lock the bathroom door, waiting for what I assume is a believable length of time. Shaking off my nerves, I yell, “Oh, come on! You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. Goddammit!”
“Hey, hurry up in there,” my babysitter shouts from the living room.
“I need a tampon!” I shriek back. Heavy footfalls are the only clue I have that he’s coming closer.Good boy,I think.Time to set the hook…
He raps on the door. “You gotta get back out here. Reaper’s gonna be pissed.”
“Fuck you! I started my period. The only way on God’s green earth I’m coming out of here is if you go get my purse and bring me a goddamn tampon!” I can hear his panicked discomfort on the other side of the door.
“I’m not going in no woman’s purse,” he grunts.
