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Prologue
Fuck.
I knew today was going to be a big day. I just never thought it would be like this. I thought Brielle was up to something. She’s been acting odd for days, lost in thought, staring at us when we aren’t looking, avoiding us the last few days. But I thought maybe, just maybe, she would finally give us some clue as to if she has any feelings for one of us. To finally give us a hint of who, if any of us, she might choose.
Instead, we’re here.
I lift my hand to push my glasses back up my nose and cringe at the sound of the metal cuffs clinking against the table. They’re going to pay for that. My lawyers are going to have a field day with this whole damn incident.
They have nothing to hold us here and they know it.
The fucking car jacking.
When they showed up at my house and cuffed the four of us, I thought the worst. I thought we were caught. That we had already been found out before we even really had a chance to get away with our crime. But that’s impossible. We left no evidence of that night. Not a speck of dust to be used against us. I made sure of it.
They let me sit in here for hours before they even bothered to tell me why I was here. I can only imagine they gave the same treatment to the other three. I didn’t even have to feign my surprise when they finally graced me with their presence and threw out pictures of the car Hudson and Zaide stole last week on Bri’s bet. I resist the urge to fidget in my chair, not giving them the satisfaction of witnessing my discomfort. Did they get Brielle too?
I’m not worried about the boys. They’ve got this routine down. They know damn well not to open their mouths and there isn’t a thing these assholes could do to shake them up. Bri is different. Softer. The only truly good thing about us.
She’d die before she turned on us. I know that as well as I know my own name, but she isn’t as jaded as the rest of us. There is a whole lot they could do to terrify her. Traumatize her. The thought of it alone makes me want to throw this chair through that damn two way mirror. I know they’re watching me. Can feel their greedy little eyes beating down on me, hoping to catch some dirt on the elusive Knight family.
Good luck. I won’t let anything slip. I learned from the best after all.
The door opens and Detective Peterson steps through with a sigh. “Look, Mr. Knight, if you could just help us understand how the Jensen’s Camaro was left on Maple Blvd outside The Grand Apartments on the night of Wednesday June 12th and found two cities over the next morning, we could clear this whole thing up.” He drops the file back down in front of me as he takes a seat.
He’s got the good cop act down pat. I’ll give him that.
“Wish I could help you, Officer,” I start.
“Detective,” he cuts me off, just like I knew he would.
I give him a polite smile. “Detective,” I correct. “I already told you though. I do recognize the Camaro. I went to school with Derrick Jenson and it’s his vehicle of choice. However, I have no idea where his car was on any given day since graduation.” I lean back in my chair and lift my hands in a subtle shrug. As much as the cuffs will allow anyway.
The fake smile drops off his face. Here we go. Give me what I need. Just how did they pin it to us? Have they connected it to Brielle too? Is she here?
“If that were true, explain why we got a tip coming in that you and your little friends were the ones behind it?”
Huh. So someone reported us? Who would have the balls to do that? Not only that, who the fuck would know? No one but the five of us knows about our connection to the car. Sure, a few others know about our bets. They’ve gotten bigger over the years, harder to hide completely, but we always cover our tracks.
The bets are a little game we started back in freshman year after some douche broke our girl’s heart. She may not have known it then, or even now, but she is ours. At least until she chooses. Maybe even after that. I can’t imagine walking away, even if she dates one of my brothers. We’d live and die for her.
She’s the whole reason we started the game. Four little words to taunt four not so little devils.
I bet you can’t.
Her response when Zaiden said we could get that shit stain expelled.
Four little words and the game was born.
We took the bracelet he gave her and it became our token. Whoever had the bracelet laid the bet. Hers was first. We got him expelled. She had to rub each of our shoulders for a whole week.
There are rewards for completing the bets.
Punishments for forfeits and fails.
I lift my shoulder as I examine the detective with a cool expression. I lift one finger to tap the file. “The car was left undamaged. Keys,” I hesitate, “on the hood?”
“On the driver’s seat,” he spits out through gritted teeth.
