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“I like it,” I quip.
His lips descend on mine. It’s uncharacteristically slow, as though he wants to give me the option to stop him. I don’t. Throwing my arms around his neck, I wind my fingers into his messy waves.
As our tongues snake around each other, Gray moves his hand from my throat to cup my ass. I moan into his mouth when I feel his erection between us.
After kissing me like he wants to suck my soul right out of my mouth, Gray reaches into his back pocket. I watch him warily as he hands me my phone. I don’t immediately reach for it, worried it might be a trick.
“Take it, Princess,” he rasps. “I know the Cruz Cunts gave you another one, but you might need something from this one when you’re at the lawyer’s office.”
“But I…”
The words stay lodged in my throat as I continue to stare at the device like it’s a doomsday weapon.
As I remember the way Gray has given me most of his share of the measly food we’ve had over the last few days, I take it. Determined to bring some money back to the club. He might think I haven’t noticed, but I have.
Yesterday he offered me a piece of bread, but when I didn’t want it, he wrapped it in a napkin and forced me to eat it back in his room.
That side of him confuses me. It’s clear he wants to take care of me, and he does—oh boy, does he. Yet, he’s still keeping me here, and it’s not like he’s been forthcoming or honest with me. Everything I know, I’ve had to hear from other people. Like the Kings’ real deal with my dad, Gray could have told me about that but he chose not to.
“You’ll need your purse as well,” he says, once again pulling me from my thoughts.
I watch as he pulls my silver bag from a loose floorboard near the bed. The same one I accused him of stealing in what seems like another life. Well, damn. I had no idea it was here all this time. When I threw a hissy fit and destroyed his room, I did look around as well. But since Mama was with me, I didn’t get to snoop or inspect as much as I wanted.
Hmm, now I’m wondering what else he’s hiding there, and if any of the other floorboards are shielding other secrets.
Noticing me watching him, Gray winks at me. I can’t help smiling at the amusement in his dark eyes. Again, it’s like he knows what I’m thinking. But if he does, it’s not worrying to him, only amusing.
Fucker.
Just as we’re about to walk out the door, Gray grabs my wrist and spins me around. He cups my face as he says, “Please be careful, Princess. And behave. Now’s not the time for antics.”
Although I roll my eyes for good measure, the sassy retort on the tip of my tongue vanishes. I can see how hard it is for him to let me go, and for some reason, I don’t want to make it harder on him.
“I’ll be careful,” I promise.
“Good girl,” he croons before kissing me senseless again.
After promising to behave, he walks me to Alana’s room where we find her busy changing Rhiannon’s bandages.
“What the fuck happened to you?” Gray asks, sounding aghast as he studies the cuts on her back and thighs. “Who did this?”
“I-it doesn’t m-matter,” she stutters.
No matter how many different ways he asks, she keeps refusing to answer. It doesn’t make any sense to me. Why doesn’t she just tell him it was Gunner? She wanted it, so why keep it a secret?
My eyes dart between Rhiannon’s myriad of scars, and I furrow my brows. The more I look at her, the less I fully understand. The cut I made on Gray is a lot less intrusive than any one of hers. But if it was a sex game, why are some of them still bleeding? Is that normal?
Just as I’m about to ask some of my many questions, Rocco slams the door open. “It’s time to go, Gray.” It’s clear from his tone that he’s impatient, yet he raises an eyebrow as he looks at Rhiannon. “You okay?” he asks, sounding like he couldn’t care less.
“Just peachy,” she sing-songs, and it seems me, Sasha, and Alana are the only ones noticing the way she flinches as she tries to sit up.
Rocco gives her another look, but eventually he nods and reminds Gray they have to go.
“Right, Alana, you’re with Zoe today. If she tries to escape, I trust you’ve learned your lesson and won’t help her. Shoot her in the foot or leg if you must, but don’t kill her.”
“Rocco!” Alana gasps. The parting words from the Prez has left her pale as a fucking sheet, and she’s even wavering on her feet.
“Don’t worry about it,” I grind out.
