“How was she?” Will asked Damon over his shoulder.
“Tasted better than a Popsicle.”
I twisted up my lips. Really? We’d been waiting on him this whole time so he could get
laid?
Over the years, I’d gauged that the guys definitely loved women, and they didn’t hide it.
Being who they were and wielding the power they did, it was never hard to find girls up for a good time, and although I hated to accidentally overhear their comments and discussions and the crude way they talked about various conquests, I also kind of envied their freedom to do as they pleased without judgment.
Would they wait on me if I wanted to go get laid? Would they pat me on the back and ask me how it was?
No, they wouldn’t.
They—or at least Will and Damon—would expect me to be a virgin, only to open my legs for them, and then not whine and cry when they never called me again.
And unfortunately, Michael was very much like Damon.
Never any girlfriends, never any commitment, and never any expectations. The only difference was Michael didn’t talk about his dirty deeds. Damon made sure everyone knew.
“You guys could’ve come up,” Damon suggested. “You like pussy, Rika?”
Anger heated my skin. I pulled my seatbelt back on, not looking at him as I answered. “I’d take one to bed before your dick.”
Will snorted, hunching over, and I heard Kai’s quiet laugh in the passenger’s seat in front. Michael made no move.
But a chill fell on the right side of my face, and I knew Damon was glaring at me.
“So who was it then?” I asked, ignoring his temper.
“Mayor’s wife,” Will answered. “Trophy bitch, but oh so nice.”
Jesus. An older, married woman? Damon had no limits.
“Actually, she wasn’t home,” Damon cut in.
Will and I jerked our heads around, confused. “So who were you with then?” Will shot out.
Damon grinned, and lifted two fingers to his nose, sniffing. “I like virgins. So sweet.”
Kai turned his head, scowling. “You didn’t,” he growled, apparently knowing something I didn’t.
“Fuck off,” Damon bit out.
I pinched my eyebrows together, looking around at the guys. “Who are you talking about?”
Damon held up the same phone Will had recorded the fire on and then tossed it to Will. “I got video,” he taunted. “You want to watch?”
I straightened my back, turning back around. Fucking lowlife.
“You really are fucking stupid,” Kai gritted out again and faced forward.
I stared at him in the front, wondering why he was so angry. Damon had pissed me off with his stupid remarks, but why was Kai annoyed with him? What could be worse than the wife of the mayor?
And then my eyes rounded, finally realizing who they were talking about. The only other person that lived in the house besides the servants.
Winter Ashby, the mayor’s daughter.
Shit. That was his prank? Screw the mayor’s daughter?
No wonder Kai was pissed.
But before I could confirm that’s who they were talking about, Damon took out his cigarettes and called up front, “Let’s go eat,” he suggested. “I’m fucking hungry.”
And Michael, who’d been silent the entire time, hesitated only a moment before shifting the SUV into gear and pulling back onto the road.
Cranking up the radio to Jekyll and Hyde by Five Finger Death Punch, Michael took us back into town and parked right in front of Sticks, a favorite hangout, bar, and pool hall frequented by nearly every kid in town up to the age of twenty-one. They served alcohol, but unless you were of age—or a star basketball player—you didn’t get served.
It didn’t matter, though. The music was great, the atmosphere dark, and it was big enough to accommodate plenty of people. It was the place to be if you wanted action on a Friday or Saturday night. Every time I’d tried to join my friends, though, Trevor showed up and hovered, so I rarely came.
We stepped out of the car, and I combed my fingers through my hair as I walked around the back of the SUV to meet everyone on the sidewalk. Damon flicked his cigarette into the street, and I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to keep warm.
“Fuckin’ Anderson,” Kai said under his breath. “I can’t stand him.”
I followed his gaze through the windows, immediately looking away again as soon as I saw who he was talking about.
Miles Anderson.
I stared at the ground, letting my hair fall over the side of my face, covering it. I couldn’t stand him, either.
Uneasiness settled in my muscles until they were so tight and tense that I thought they
would pop.
“Asshole’s been talking shit since we graduated,” Damon added.
I could tell none of them really liked the new captain of Thunder Bay’s basketball team. Miles had taken over after Michael graduated, and he enjoyed no longer living in his shadow. He resented the Horsemen’s power, charisma, and reach, and after they’d left for college, he wasted no time in trying to claim what was once theirs.
The only problem was he sucked as a captain. The team had a horrible year last year, and the more he failed, the more he pushed to prove what a man he was.
I shivered, forcing thoughts of what happened last spring out of my head. He might be the only person worse than Damon.
I eyed Michael, trying to hide my concern. “We’re not going in there, are we?”
“Tasted better than a Popsicle.”
I twisted up my lips. Really? We’d been waiting on him this whole time so he could get
laid?
Over the years, I’d gauged that the guys definitely loved women, and they didn’t hide it.
Being who they were and wielding the power they did, it was never hard to find girls up for a good time, and although I hated to accidentally overhear their comments and discussions and the crude way they talked about various conquests, I also kind of envied their freedom to do as they pleased without judgment.
Would they wait on me if I wanted to go get laid? Would they pat me on the back and ask me how it was?
No, they wouldn’t.
They—or at least Will and Damon—would expect me to be a virgin, only to open my legs for them, and then not whine and cry when they never called me again.
And unfortunately, Michael was very much like Damon.
Never any girlfriends, never any commitment, and never any expectations. The only difference was Michael didn’t talk about his dirty deeds. Damon made sure everyone knew.
“You guys could’ve come up,” Damon suggested. “You like pussy, Rika?”
Anger heated my skin. I pulled my seatbelt back on, not looking at him as I answered. “I’d take one to bed before your dick.”
Will snorted, hunching over, and I heard Kai’s quiet laugh in the passenger’s seat in front. Michael made no move.
But a chill fell on the right side of my face, and I knew Damon was glaring at me.
“So who was it then?” I asked, ignoring his temper.
“Mayor’s wife,” Will answered. “Trophy bitch, but oh so nice.”
Jesus. An older, married woman? Damon had no limits.
“Actually, she wasn’t home,” Damon cut in.
Will and I jerked our heads around, confused. “So who were you with then?” Will shot out.
Damon grinned, and lifted two fingers to his nose, sniffing. “I like virgins. So sweet.”
Kai turned his head, scowling. “You didn’t,” he growled, apparently knowing something I didn’t.
“Fuck off,” Damon bit out.
I pinched my eyebrows together, looking around at the guys. “Who are you talking about?”
Damon held up the same phone Will had recorded the fire on and then tossed it to Will. “I got video,” he taunted. “You want to watch?”
I straightened my back, turning back around. Fucking lowlife.
“You really are fucking stupid,” Kai gritted out again and faced forward.
I stared at him in the front, wondering why he was so angry. Damon had pissed me off with his stupid remarks, but why was Kai annoyed with him? What could be worse than the wife of the mayor?
And then my eyes rounded, finally realizing who they were talking about. The only other person that lived in the house besides the servants.
Winter Ashby, the mayor’s daughter.
Shit. That was his prank? Screw the mayor’s daughter?
No wonder Kai was pissed.
But before I could confirm that’s who they were talking about, Damon took out his cigarettes and called up front, “Let’s go eat,” he suggested. “I’m fucking hungry.”
And Michael, who’d been silent the entire time, hesitated only a moment before shifting the SUV into gear and pulling back onto the road.
Cranking up the radio to Jekyll and Hyde by Five Finger Death Punch, Michael took us back into town and parked right in front of Sticks, a favorite hangout, bar, and pool hall frequented by nearly every kid in town up to the age of twenty-one. They served alcohol, but unless you were of age—or a star basketball player—you didn’t get served.
It didn’t matter, though. The music was great, the atmosphere dark, and it was big enough to accommodate plenty of people. It was the place to be if you wanted action on a Friday or Saturday night. Every time I’d tried to join my friends, though, Trevor showed up and hovered, so I rarely came.
We stepped out of the car, and I combed my fingers through my hair as I walked around the back of the SUV to meet everyone on the sidewalk. Damon flicked his cigarette into the street, and I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to keep warm.
“Fuckin’ Anderson,” Kai said under his breath. “I can’t stand him.”
I followed his gaze through the windows, immediately looking away again as soon as I saw who he was talking about.
Miles Anderson.
I stared at the ground, letting my hair fall over the side of my face, covering it. I couldn’t stand him, either.
Uneasiness settled in my muscles until they were so tight and tense that I thought they
would pop.
“Asshole’s been talking shit since we graduated,” Damon added.
I could tell none of them really liked the new captain of Thunder Bay’s basketball team. Miles had taken over after Michael graduated, and he enjoyed no longer living in his shadow. He resented the Horsemen’s power, charisma, and reach, and after they’d left for college, he wasted no time in trying to claim what was once theirs.
The only problem was he sucked as a captain. The team had a horrible year last year, and the more he failed, the more he pushed to prove what a man he was.
I shivered, forcing thoughts of what happened last spring out of my head. He might be the only person worse than Damon.
I eyed Michael, trying to hide my concern. “We’re not going in there, are we?”
