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“I ain’t watching that shit.” Priest turns his back to us, facing the glass wall.
War snatches the phone from Stella, dragging his eyes from mine but not without shooting daggers right through my heart.
“Okay, one! This happened in the moment. I was drunk, pissed off, and you had—” My mouth stops, that same humiliation reminding me why I did it in the first place. “Actually, you know what?” I ignore the hardness of his jaw and the way his knuckles turn white when he squeezes the phone. “Fuck you. You get nothing from me.” I relax back in the chair beside Bas, his thick thigh pressing against mine.
War taps the screen before tossing the phone back at Stella. “Interesting choice of car to do it on. Can’t say it’s not obvious who your intended target was.” There’s no guessing who his words are for, but his eyes are distant and cold, refusing to meet mine. “Unfortunately, you’re a shit shot.”
My chest deflates. Other than the tightness of his shoulders and the swollen muscles on either side of his jaw, he’s giving—nothing.
“Speaking of cars and sex—” My fingernails find Bas’s thigh when he doesn’t shut the fuck up, but instead of stopping, he chokes on his laugh, spreading his leg out carelessly. “I mean, what a lucky guy…”
War’s cold eyes move up Bas’s body, stopping on his face. The tension in the air crackles around us when he says his next words. “I wouldn’t go that far. She’s not that great.”
My skin prickles but I collect myself quickly, swallowing a long gulp of alcohol to numb the pain of his words. Unlike me, he didn’t miss his target.
“Why are we all here?” Stella lowers to the other side of me.
“He can’t be here for this, Halen.” Priest rolls his eyes, relaxing against the frame again. As much as I don’t want them to know how much War has hurt me, I can’t push the words out. I can’t give them anything because I’m afraid of what emotion will be laced with my tone.
“Actually, he can.” Dad comes in from behind us, and I hold my brother’s stare. “Bas isn’t an associate with the Gentlemen like you’ve all suspected.” He moves to the bar in the corner and pours himself a drink. “He’s with us.”
“Nah,” Priest snickers. “I’ve seen that motherfucker’s Instagram. He’s with them. Seen it with my own eyes, him and Moses together.”
Dad lowers his glass to the bar, holding my brother captive. “He’s workingfor us,Priest. He’s the son of a good friend and has been working for Hector since he was fourteen.” With Dad in the room, my pain evaporates into the air.
Priest blinks between Bas and Dad. “What? How?” He finds me. “And did you know?”
“Yes, I knew.” My leg crosses over the other as my chin lifts an inch. “I’ve known since the party I crashed when we were all fourteen and War dropped me home. Of course, I didn’t stay home.” Was I doing this? “After stealing War’s new RX4, out ofsheer spite, I found Bas wandering down the estate.” I pause, a wide smile spreading over my face. I guess I was. “Sorry, Papa, block your ears.”
“Oh God,” Dad groans behind his tumbler, turning to my brother.
I lean forward as if in a fighting stance. “He made sureI knewwho he was in the back seat. Gotta say,” I blink to my side, tracing the lines of Bas’s jaw. Nothing like War’s but I don’t care enough, because Bas isn’t hiding the smugness directed at War. “I think we preferred the hood. Right, B? After all, I did warn you, War.” My eyes flick back to him, but his face is as hard as stone, never moving from Bas. “Don’t say I didn’t come to you first."
“Wait!” Stella bites back her laugh. “That was you that night? Who she’s with in this video? The one wearing the Billy the Puppet mask?”
The corner of Bas’s mouth lifts. “Yeah. And, shit, Hales, am I very good at following instructions. I mean, he said to not go further than your thighs, but I just had to make sure my memory—”
All hell breaks out. Stella yelps, grabbing me by the arm and dragging me to the floor as War grabs Bas by the throat and throws him across the room.
Around the pounding of flesh and bones fracturing, vases smash to the ground when War shoves him up against the wall so hard plaster explodes around them.
Priest stares up at the ceiling with vacant boredom, as Vaden watches with calm observation.
“Jesus Christ.” Dad lowers his glass with an eye roll. “Separate them, Priest, before they break something important and your mother shoots us all.”
Priest lowers his head back down, swallowing the last of his drink before taking long strides toward them.
He forces his body between them, but keeps his hand against Bas’s throat, and now it’s the Mad Prince in his face.
Bas’s nose is busted red, his lips swollen, and his cheek split open. Blood oozes from every wound on his face, and a pang of guilt wiggles inside my gut.
I caused this.
“Amica,” Dad says softly from the other side of the room, as if hearing my thoughts.
The apology hangs off my tongue as I look up at him from the floor.
His hands disappear into his suit pockets. “You know better.”
