by James Tate
"I'm your lift home," he told me, jerking his head toward the sleek, silver muscle car parked in the zone clearly marked "taxis only". "Your father... uh... couldn't make it."
I snorted a bitter laugh. "No shit," I replied. "Too busy fucking my new mommy?" Gray-eyes wrinkled his nose, and I sighed. "Whatever. Do you work for him or something?" As badly as I wanted to castrate this asshole and his two friends... I wanted a shower more. There was something about sitting on a plane for the better part of an entire day that made a shower seem like the holy grail.
The guy shook his head slightly, then nodded to the car again. "Why don't I explain on the way? You must be pretty wrecked. How long was the flight from Singapore, anyway?"
My lips pursed. "Siem Reap," I corrected him on where I'd flown from. "Fucking long."
I wasn't in the mood for idle chit chat with this prick.
"Okay, so..." He took a step forward, reaching out for my case.
"So, nothing." I snatched my luggage out of his reach and backed up a few steps. A taxi was approaching from behind Gray-eyes, and I much preferred that mode of transport. I stuck my hand out, waving it down.
"Seriously?" he asked, his brow creased with confusion. "I literally came here just to pick you up."
I shrugged, letting the taxi driver take my suitcase and load it into the trunk. "Well then, for one thing, you should have been here an hour ago when I landed. And for another, you shouldn't have fucking framed me for breaking and entering and manslaughter. So thanks but no thanks, Gray." I grabbed my sunglasses from the strap of my fringed, boho handbag and slid them onto my nose. "Next time I see you, I won't be so nice. Stay out of my fucking way."
I dropped heavily into the backseat of the taxi and slammed the door shut. The window was halfway down, so while the driver slipped back into his seat and shifted the car into drive, I could hear Gray-eyes mutter something.
"What?" I demanded, refusing to let him have the last word, even if I couldn’t even hear it.
"I said, Steele. My name's Steele, not Gray." His infuriating grin grew wide again, flashing the metal of his tongue stud, and he winked one of those steel-gray eyes. "Close, though."
My taxi pulled away from the curb then, sparing me the need to reply, and I dropped my head back onto the seat with a groan.
Steele. What a stupid fucking name. It suited him.
* * *
My phone buzzed in my pocket when the taxi’s GPS showed us about five minutes from my father’s new home.
"Hello?" I answered, barely bothering to glance at the screen. Only two people even had my number, and one was dead.
"Madison Kate," my father's gruff voice sounded on the other end, "I was hoping to see you before we left, but Steele just arrived back without you."
I rolled my eyes, biting my tongue before I snapped at him. He hadn't believed me on Riot Night when I told him about the three boys who'd gotten me out of the amusement park and left me on the side of the road. He hadn't believed me that the stolen master key was only in my pocket because the whole jacket belonged to a gorgeous, flirty, green-eyed boy. So I wasn't going to waste my breath now telling him of Steele's involvement. Nope, I'd just have to get my own revenge for the destruction he and his buddies had rained down on my life.
"I don't accept rides from strangers," I replied with just a tiny hint of sarcasm. "Why didn't you come to pick me up yourself? I’d have thought you wanted to see your only child after exiling me for months."
My father made a vexed sound, and I could hear a woman's voice in the background. Ugh. Cherise. His new girlfriend. I definitely wasn't looking forward to that introduction.
"I'm sure I told you, Madison Kate," my father replied, sounding annoyed and distracted. He didn’t even acknowledge my comment about what a shitty, neglectful parent he was. "Cherry and I are leaving today for Italy."
It shouldn't hurt. It shouldn't. He hadn't visited me once in Cambodia and had only called when he absolutely had to. But still, hearing he'd planned a vacation with his arm candy for the same day I was arriving home? Yeah, it stung.
"Right," I said back, my voice flat and devoid of emotion. "Of course. I guess I forgot." Or he never told me. "How long will you be gone?"
"Eight weeks. But don't worry, your room is all set up for you."
I clenched my jaw to hold back a sigh. My room. I'd never even seen his new house. Our old one—the one I’d grown up in and the one I’d seen my mother murdered in—had been one of our many homes burned to the ground on Riot Night.
"Okay, sure. See you in two months, I guess." Despite my best efforts, bitterness crept into my voice.
More murmuring in the background of the phone, Cherise saying something to my father, then he spoke again. "Thanks hon. You won't be too lonely, though. If you need anything, I'm sure the boys can help you out."
Wait, what? The boys? What boys?
"Dad—" I started to say, but he cut me off.
"Got to run, our car is here. Give me a call on Monday and tell me how your first day at SGU goes. You know how important that project is to me." He didn't even wait for me to reply before he ended the call, and it took all of my willpower not to throw my phone out of the window.
A minute later, a blacked-out Rolls Royce glided past us, and I knew it was him. He couldn't even wait two more minutes for me to get home.
Bastard.
His words sat like a lump in my gut. What boys would be able to help me out? The fact that Gray-Eyes—Steele—had been sent to pick me up from the airport... I had a seriously bad feeling about what I was going to find at my father's house.
"Is this it?" the driver asked, breaking through my distraction.
I peered out of the window and up at the enormous mansion behind high, ornate gates. Worked into the iron was a fancy monogram of a D. For Danvers. Ugh, Samuel Danvers was so arrogant.
"Yep, I guess so," I replied with a sigh. I paid the guy with some crumpled cash from my bag—US currency that had sat untouched the entire time I'd been away—then retrieved my suitcase from his trunk.
"You going to be okay, girl?" the cabbie asked me, giving the monolithic structure behind me a wary look.
My smile was tight. "I'll be fine," I replied, silently praying I wouldn't be proved wrong. "Thanks."
The guy nodded, then climbed back into his car and drove away, leaving me standing there with my bag at my feet. I didn't even have a fucking code to open the front gates; how messed up was that?
"Thanks a lot, Dad," I muttered under my breath, heading over to the intercom. I could just call him and ask, but I was pissed as hell that he hadn't waited to see me. Hopefully one of these "boys" could let me in instead. Failing that, my father always had staff lurking around in the shadows.
I pressed the buzzer heavily, then stood there fidgeting when I heard the security camera click on. No one spoke, and I stifled an annoyed sigh.
Count to five.
Breathe.
"I know you're there, asshole," I snapped. Whoops, maybe I should have counted to ten.
"Can we help you?" A smooth, male voice asked. It wasn't Steele... I didn't think. Maybe a butler? But the kind of hired help my father employed took politeness to all new levels. They were basically invisible for the most part, and impeccably mannered when seen.
"Yeah, can you let me in? My dad forgot to give me the gate code." I peered up at the camera, folding my arms and tapping my foot in irritation.
There was another long pause, then: "You're an independent woman, Madison Kate. You got yourself here from the airport all on your own, after all. I'm sure you can work it out."
He—whoever he was—sounded like he was laughing at me.
Fucker.
After flipping off the security camera, it took me all of two minutes to throw my suitcase over the gate, then climb the damn thing using my father's ostentatious wrought iron monogram for purchase. I dropped to the other side with a puff of breath, then dusted my hands off on my pants. I'd long since
ditched my "Danvers" look of designer dresses and high heels all the time and had never been more comfortable. Certainly made shit like breaking into your own family estate easier.
It took me a solid five minutes to drag my suitcase up the paved driveway to the main house. Five minutes that I could feel someone watching me and laughing.
Whoever this prick was, he'd chosen the wrong day to mess with me. The wrong fucking year.
"You made it back." Steele appeared from the side of the house, giving me a lopsided grin. He was wiping something black off his hands with a dirty rag, and peering past him, I could see a half-open garage door. Inside, his shiny, silver-gray muscle car had its hood propped open.
"That I did," I replied, narrowing my eyes. "Why are you here?"
His grin spread wider and he tucked the greasy rag into the back pocket of his ripped black jeans. "Oh, you didn't know? I live here."
4
The sound of the front door slamming open echoed through the enormous foyer like a gunshot, and I smothered a grimace. Not quite what I'd been aiming for when I'd shoved it open, but there I was letting my anger get the better of me. Again.
"Madison Kate, wait up," Steele called from behind me, but I was in no mood. I whirled around to face him, my waist-length pink hair flying out around me like some kind of superhero cape.
"Just show me where my room is," I half-demanded, half-pleaded. "I'll call my dad after I've showered. I'm sure he has a really great explanation why you, of all people, live here."
He ran a hand over his short brown hair, leaving a smudge of grease in its wake. "Or you could just chill the fuck out for two seconds and let me explain it? We really thought you already knew."
"We?" I repeated, then remembered my father's use of the plural boys. "Great. There's more of you." I pinched the bridge of my nose, screwing my eyes shut in a pointless effort to hold off my mounting migraine.
"About time you showed up, Princess. We were starting to think you were too scared to return to Shadow Grove after all." The voice was familiar. So fucking familiar. It was a voice that had replayed over and over in my mind for eleven long months while I dreamed of all the violent and painful ways I'd make him pay for what he'd done to me.
My eyes snapped open and locked onto a pair of unforgettable baby blues. "You," I snarled, snapping out my curled fist and punching that gorgeous man right in the fucking nose.
Or, it would have landed on his nose if he hadn't dodged with some scary fast reflexes. As it was, my knuckles glanced off his cheekbone, and I stumbled off balance.
"Fuck!" the stunning, blue-eyed man shouted, clapping a hand to his cheek.
For my part, the only reason I didn't face plant into the ugly Persian rug we stood on was the fact that a pair of hands had circled my waist and caught me in mid-fall.
"What's your fucking problem?" Blue-eyes roared, even while I was spun around in my savior’s grip and kissed swiftly, right on the lips, by the third stooge. Green-eyes.
"Hey, girl." He grinned, his emerald eyes twinkling with mischief. "I thought I'd never see you again. Love the hair." He flipped one of my long, dusky rose tresses and winked. My lips tingled where he’d just kissed me, and a barrage of conflicting emotions zapped through me.
What. The. Fuck?
I wrenched myself free of his grip and slapped him for the stolen kiss, then took some seriously long steps away from the three of them.
"This isn't happening," I muttered aloud. "One of you had better explain what the fuck you're doing in my father’s house, or so help me..."
"So help you what?" Blue-eyes taunted me. His cheek and right eye were already coming up with a red mark, and I was smugly proud of that. It wasn't what I'd aimed for, but I hoped it hurt nonetheless.
I shook my head slowly, letting all my year-long anger and hate well up in my eyes. "Trust me, you don't want to find out. I already owe you for framing me for B&E and nearly sinking me for manslaughter." My voice was scathing, sharp enough to strip paint.
"What?" Green-eyes asked, wrinkling his brow. It only fueled the fire of my anger.
I sneered at him. At them. All of them. "Oh, you're going to pretend you didn't hand deliver me to the Shadow Grove police to take a fall for shit I had nothing to do with?"
Green-eyes at least had the decency to look ashamed. Steele just frowned, and Blue-eyes? He looked ready to fight. Bring it on, pretty boy. I had a year of hatred stored up inside me, just begging to be let out.
"Well then," Blue-eyes said, and I got the distinct impression he was the leader of this little crew. He wasn't the tallest—Green-eyes had maybe a half inch on him, but he was the most imposing. He had presence, like he was used to people ducking and cowering when he walked into a room. "I sure hope you learned to forgive and forget while you were on that meditation retreat because we're not only attending SGU together when classes start on Monday... we're practically family."
I blinked about sixteen times. "Excuse me?" I spluttered.
A cruel, menacing smile twisted his lips. "You didn't know? My mom is dating your dad. He was kind enough to offer the three of us a place to live while we're attending the shiny new Shadow Grove University."
I shook my head, disbelieving. How could my father not have mentioned this? I'd think three strange men living in his house should have been pretty high up the list of things to mention to his only child. Then again, he hadn't even bothered to hang around and meet me.
"This must be a fucking joke," I muttered, scrubbing a hand over my face. "This isn't fucking happening. I'm not this unlucky."
"Not the reaction we usually get," someone muttered. Green-eyes, maybe.
"Shut up, Kody," Steele muttered, and my eyes snapped back open, spearing him with my laser gaze,
"Show me where my room is?" Steele stirred the least amount of fury and disgust from me, and I had no desire to wander the mansion aimlessly for hours. "I need to sleep for about six days, then I'll call my dad and sort this all out. I'm sure he can find the three of you a nice hotel elsewhere."
Blue-eyes snorted a sarcastic laugh and shook his head. "Good luck with that, Princess." He turned to leave, giving Green-eyes—Kody?—a pointed look.
"Run along, pup," I sneered at him when he frowned after his beautiful, angry friend. "Your master has summoned you."
Green-eyes just frowned at me again, looking confused and hurt, before running a hand through the longer top of his messy platinum hair. He puffed out a resigned sigh and followed his friend out of the foyer, like a good little lapdog.
"Madison—" Steele started to say, but I shook my head with a sharp gesture.
"Literally nothing you say will make up for what you three took from me on Riot Night," I told him, my voice glacial. "No pretty words or apologies can fix what you three broke. Just show me where my room is, then stay out of my fucking way."
Steele's brow was furrowed deeply over his gray eyes, but he just sighed and grabbed my suitcase from where I'd dropped it at the base of the massive grand staircase. He was quick enough that I couldn't snatch it back without looking like a petty child, so I just clenched my fists and followed him up the sweeping stairs.
He honored my wishes and didn’t speak again until pausing outside a closed door. There was nothing special about it—we'd passed half a dozen identical ones on the way down the hall—but apparently this one was mine.
"Your father asked Cherry to help decorate, so it could be awful," he informed me with a small shrug. "Anyway. We were going to order pizza for dinner because the staff takes Friday nights off. What's your favorite?" I just glared at him, and he gave me a small, teasing grin. "Everyone's gotta eat, Madison Kate."
I just shook my head and opened the door to "my" bedroom. "Oh god," I groaned.
"Yikes," Steele commented, sucking in a breath as he peered into the room behind me. "I had a feeling... Cherry always wanted a daughter."
I turned to him, horrified and speechless. The whole room was pink. No, not just pink. A vib
rant, tween girl sort of pink with... "Are the walls painted with glitter?"
Steele really seemed to be holding back laughter, but to give him credit, his lips only twitched slightly despite his eyes brimming over with amusement. "Uh, I guess she wanted to match your hair?"
My glare turned murderous, and he lost it a bit, releasing a quick snicker before wiping a hand over his handsome face—almost like he could physically wipe the laughter away. "Look, we can get it fixed. A couple coats of paint will make a world of difference."
I almost accepted his offer of help. Almost. That was how truly awful the cotton-candy-pink bedroom was. No wonder that douchebag downstairs had called me "princess."
But... "I think you three have done enough," I said in a quiet, hate-filled voice. The poison of my own negative emotions seemed to burn through my whole body, pushing me to lash out.
I took my suitcase back from him and dropped it on the floor by the end of the bed, then shrugged off my sloppy, hand-knitted cardigan. I spun around to face Steele with my hands propped on my hips, only to find his gray gaze skimming over my tight blue tank top. The edges of my black bra showed, and I gave zero fucks because it was a bra not a butt plug.
"Don't be subtle or anything," I snarked, narrowing my eyes. He didn't even seem to feel the slightest bit guilty to be caught checking me out, either. Prick.
Steele just shrugged and gave me one of those sexy, lopsided smiles. "Can you blame me? When I met you on Riot Night, you were drowning in that black hoodie. I never realized you were... all that." He indicated to my body, and I glowered harder.
"Oh yeah, that hoodie that held the incriminating key in the pocket? That one? The same one that saw me rot in fucking lockup for three months while I was put on trial for crimes I had nothing to do with? That hoodie?" Yeah, I was flogging a dead horse, and I didn't care. These fuckers clearly didn't have any appreciation for how badly they'd messed up my life that night, and goddamn I was going to make them understand. Somehow.
