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“Prescott,” Roark growls. “I’ve always disliked her, especially after she threw Lenny under the bus with the press.”
“I don’t know the deal with this girl,” I murmur.
Greg’s mouth twists in derision. “She’s still really drugged up, and going through her own withdrawals at the moment, except I don’t like her so she’s not as well supported as Lennon is,” he says. “Prescott keeps muttering about Carrie and Grant, asking why they left her, or drools. I would feel bad about the state she’s in, except she clearly was in bed with some shady ass people.”
Derek grimaces. “God, I really hope she wasn’t literally in bed with them. My father was out of town fucking Carrie, though he didn’t tell me that. I am definitely uncomfortable with all of the questions I now have,” he groans.
Roark chuckles as he walks back over, drying his hands. “I am sure I can empty all of those questions while emptying your balls, baby. You don’t need that woman renting space in your head,” he says, and my eyes widen.
Is he really saying what I think he is?
Derek blushes and I bite my lip as Greg just smiles. Holy shit, I thought I was forward. I don’t have a clue what I’m doing.
“Roark, you definitely have game, man. That was impressive,” Greg laughs. “Derek, enjoy getting your dick sucked, I’m going to catch some sleep. Orion, you can tell me what you find when I wake up, yeah? If it can’t wait, beat the door down.”
Greg whistles as he leaves the room and I feel like the third wheel. Feeling awkward, I walk out of the room as well, making a beeline for my computer. I really don’t fit with them, and I’m unsure how this all will work.
But I have a job that’ll have me living with or near them, so I’m going to have to figure it out.
Fuck, people are so much harder than computers.
* * *
Divinginto the advertisement on the dark web does in fact lead me to waking Greg up an hour later. I had to dig deep into the layers, make a fake profile, and then inquire about the job. The portfolio of photos for the grab part of the job are all Lennon.
There are few people who would want her kidnapped, and I curse under my breath. “Fuck me,” I whisper, closing out of my browser.
“Trouble?” Turner asks outside of the living room and I grit my teeth to keep from startling.
I was so involved in my search and findings, I lost track of my surroundings. Granted, I should be safe here, but I still typically am on guard anywhere that isn’t my home. It’s very disconcerting to not have heard Turner walking.
“Maybe,” I grunt, locking down the computers before I stand. It’s such an immediate response to close out my programs when there are people around. I can’t do anything else until I’m done. It just doesn’t feel right.
“There’s someone looking for a snatch and drop off, and the person wanted is Lennon based on the photos in the portfolio. I need to go tell Greg, and see if he wants me to take the job so we can find the people who posted it.”
Turner folds his arms, the corded muscles straining in his tank top. He looks as if he just threw clothes on, and while I can see the appeal, my cock doesn’t flinch.
“Orion, what’s your angle? You act like you don't want to be here, and then surprise me by scouring the dark web and shit,” he says. “Do you know what you want?”
Taking a deep breath, I shake my head. “I want Lennon safe, I want her to have a good life, and the rest I’m figuring out. I really don’t know how or where I fit, I’m working off instinct right now. That’s all I got,” I mutter.
Turner nods. “You don’t have to be anything. I thought we were done adding to our group when Derek joined us, but shit happens.” He grimaces as my brows raise.
Apparently I’m shit. Fantastic.
“Alright then,” I say softly. I don’t know how I feel about this little interaction, but I don’t have time for it.
Brushing past him, I ignore the intake of his breath as he tries to say something else. I don’t have feelings to upset like normal people, I just don’t know how I should respond.
Finding Greg’s room, I knock on the door. “Hey, I found something,” I bark.
“Urgh, okay,” Greg groans and I hide a smile. Poor guy finally falls asleep, and I have to wake him up. “Come in, O.”
‘O’… something else that’s very odd. Nicknames haven’t ever been something I’ve enjoyed.
Opening the door, I walk in to find him turning the lamp on beside him. Greg rubs his eyes, stifling a yawn.
“Give it to me. How bad it’s it?” he asks.
