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I’m not going to get into a she started it fight and present myself as emotionally unstable as she is.
Her brown eyes assess me closely, but the adrenaline has taken hold in my bloodstream, and all I can feel is… elation. Heat has warmed every inch of my body, sinking low into my stomach.
If Zade were here…
I force those thoughts out of my head before they sweep me away. If I let that happen, I’d be humping the air, and not only would that be fucking embarrassi
ng, but I’m also in the number one worst place in the world to get horny.
After a pregnant pause, Francesca meets Sydney’s stare.
“You probably deserved it.”
I smother the smile before it can emerge, but fuck is it hard when she gasps loudly in response.
“Go to your room until I call you down,” she orders harshly.
Sydney rushes past me, but I feel her intention from a mile away. I step out of her path before she can knock into me, which only serves to make her angrier. Her head whips around, and the glare she shoots my way is pure hatred before she disappears.
Clearing my throat, I lower my head. Hopefully Francesca sees it as submission, and not a last-ditch effort to contain how pleased I am.
I feel her eyes boring into me, and a bead of sweat forms on my hairline. Knowing the drill, Gloria and Jillian line up beside me, effectively distracting her.
“Tonight, is about having fun, but make sure you present yourselves as ladies. Don’t act like sluts but be docile and compliant. You all are allowed one drink tonight. I won’t tolerate any of you making drunken fools out of yourselves.” She pauses. “Make me proud tonight, girls.”
Chapter 16
The Hunter
The Basilisk Brotherhood lives in a bank in a suburb of Portland. Obviously, it was abandoned, though the sign outside the building still stands, the old name in bold blue letters. The entire front wall has been replaced with black slate, assumingly because it used to be glass when it was a business.
What’s more interesting is that they turned it into a mini skyscraper. I know damn well this bank didn’t look this good when it was active, and it sure as shit didn’t have at least five floors on top of it.
I swing open my door and inhale my cigarette one last time before stubbing it on the ground with my boot.
Stop littering.
Yes, baby.
I grab the butt and throw it in a little trash bag hanging in my car, the recyclable sack full of orange filters already.
Exiting my Mustang, I slam the door shut and slowly approach the building. The parking lot is empty, so I’m assuming their cars are hidden in a garage somewhere.
Several cameras watch me as I approach the front door. Glancing up, I stare directly into the lens hanging above the entrance, and seconds later, the door clicks.
Two of the four brothers are waiting for me on the other side. Ryker and Kace, the former with his arms crossed and a frown tugging on his lips, and the latter with his hands tucked into his front pockets and a stoic expression.
They both eye me closely, so I put my hands up.
“I swear I’m not here to rob you. Scout’s honor,” I say with a grin.
“You’d be dead already if you were.”
I drop my hands, the smile on my face growing. Deciding I’ll push their buttons one at a time instead of all at once, I remain quiet.
We’re standing in what used to be the main room; the teller station now closed off completely. Now, it’s four walls, dimly lit with shiny gray wood flooring and deep navy blue walls. A single black leather couch is pushed up against the wall to my left, and I imagine this is where all unwelcome or untrusted guests are vetted before they’re allowed into their home.
“You have two minutes to explain what the hell you want,” Ryker says.
