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“My car is here.” I go on. “I drove.”
He gives me a quick look, his eyes going to the hoodie before placing his green eyes back on the road. “I’ll drop it off later.”
Huffing, I lean my wet hair back against his seat, knowing it’ll piss him off even more. The air conditioner is on full blast, and my nipples are hard. I’m no longer soaking wet but definitely not dry and very drunk. A part of me wants to reach over and unzip his jeans. But he’ll just push me away. I’m sure as fuck not putting the hoodie on, though. I’d rather freeze to death first. If he wants me to wear it, he can dress me.
My heavy eyes close as “This Is Gonna Hurt” by Sixx:A.M. fills the confined space inside of his car.
SIX
SAINT
Ipull up to her parents’ and place my car in park. Looking over at her, I see she’s got her eyes closed, head tilted to the side. Her pouty lips are parted, and her chest rises and falls as she breathes deeply. She’s passed out.
It’s for the best. My car smells like her, and it’s had me so fucking hard. My hoodie is still in her lap, and my teeth grind at the fact I’m going to have to pick her up and carry her inside. I wanted to just drop her off. Watch her stomp into the house mad at me.
Shoving my door open, I slam it, hoping it’ll wake her up. But when I open hers, she’s still out.
Fuck!
Bending down, I place my arms underneath her and lift her from the car. I carry her up the stairs and into the house, then climb the grand staircase headed for her room. I lay her down in her bed, and she moans, her hips lifting off the bed slightly.
“Saint.”
The sound of my name on her lips makes my legs weak. I sit down on the side of the bed, and unable to stop myself, I reach out, running my knuckles over the thin white material of her bathing suit top, brushing them against her nipples.
“Yeah, sweetheart?” I ask, my voice rough. My phone vibrates in my pocket, but I ignore it, knowing it’s one of the brothers wondering where the fuck I am.
She arches her back, taking a deep breath. “I want you.” Her pretty blue eyes flutter open, unfocused and heavy.
I smile, my hand cupping her face, and she leans into it, eyes falling closed. “You’ll be mine soon, Ashtyn. I promise.”
She’s out once again, and I take what little strength I have, stand, and walk out of her room, knowing I have to do whatever it takes to make her mine.
* * *
I enterthrough the open gate at the house of Lords. It’s fifteen minutes from Barrington University. It was once a hotel that was given to the Lords. It’s a weekend, so the gates are open because they’re throwing their usual weekend party, getting ready for the ritual where all the seniors take their chosen. Otherwise, the gates remain closed to outsiders.
I take the long and curvy entrance faster than I should and come up to the renovated hotel. It’s white brick with black shutters and has six columns on the large front porch. I follow the roundabout that has a pond and fountain in the center. Staying right, I drive under the breezeway and park in the back. I see Haidyn’s bike, Kashton’s car, and Adam’s G-wagon. I bring mine to a stop next to them.
All Lords are required to live here throughout our years at Barrington. They’re pretty strict on it up until your senior year. Then we’re allowed a lot more freedom. Especially us Spade brothers because we spend so much time at Carnage.
I enter the building through the back and jump on the elevator, taking it down to the basement. Once I step off, I walk down the hallway and stride into the room. It’s more like a bunker. Racks on the far wall display guns and knives of various sizes. The others already sit at the large table in the center of the room. All three of them look up at me.
“About time,” Adam snaps, checking his watch. “What the fuck took so long?”
“I’m here.” I avoid his question.
“Should have left her at the party,” he bites out.
I choose to ignore him. He’s been treating Ashtyn like shit lately. I don’t like it, but it is what it is. The door opens behind me, and I plop down next to Haidyn.
Lincoln—a Lord who runs the house of Lords, enters the room with another man I’ve never seen before. He wears an all-black suit with a matching tie. His dark hair slicked back. He can’t be more than twenty-five.
“Brothers, I called you all here for an important meeting.” Lincoln steps back and gestures to the man that I notice he didn’t introduce to us.
“Hello, gentlemen.” He tosses us each a manila envelope.
I open mine up to see a woman lying on a bed. She’s naked, her head hanging off the side, her neck slit from one side to the other. Blood runs down the edge of the bed and puddles onto the floor. Her ankles are tied together with barbwire. I’m guessing her wrists are too since her arms look to be secured underneath her.
