Violence (Antihero Inferno Book 3)

by Lily White

  “What is it?”

  “The information for the person who hit me. We didn’t want to wait for a police report.”

  Ezra looks down to scan the paper, his eyes widening as his shoulders tense.

  “What?” I ask, confusion flooding me at his reaction. “What is it?”

  He just shakes his head, his eyes lifting to mine for only a brief second before dropping back to the paper.

  Without offering me an explanation, he exhales, two words rolling off his lips that aren’t meant for me.

  “Holy fuck.”

  Shane

  “That’ll be twenty-seven even.”

  Son of a bitch. For three beers? Myth is highway robbery.

  I toss down the cash and grab the bottles, smirking at the bartender when he gives me a smug grin and snatches the fifty from the counter.

  Jackass didn’t deserve the tip, but whatever. I can afford it.

  Weaving my way through small crowds and dancing bodies, I find my way back to the high-top table where Mason and Taylor are waiting, hand them each a bottle and turn my gaze out onto the dance floor, a steady bass beat shaking the walls.

  A dozen or so spotlights circle the main room while colored overhead lights cast a hazy, dreamlike glow on the bodies beneath.

  Half-dressed girls are rolling their hips while a few guys work their way around, looking to score. It’s too bad none of them can move like me, but I haven’t stepped out there yet to show them.

  Upstairs are the fetish rooms in the club, but we haven’t bothered with them yet, not when my sights are set on one woman in particular.

  Taylor nudges my shoulder. Leaning over, he speaks loudly against my ear to be heard over the music.

  “How do you think Damon’s holding up with Tanner and Gabe?”

  I’m a little concerned about it, to be honest. Damon’s been acting sketchy as fuck since his father died.

  “He’ll keep his mouth shut,” I answer, our eyes locked together as he raises a brow in question.

  “You think?”

  He better. Otherwise, we’re all going to have both Tanner and Gabe riding our asses.

  “We should have brought him with us tonight,” Taylor says before tipping the bottle to his lips.

  A grin stretches my lips.

  “I tried. Tanner wouldn’t allow it. He acts like I’m a bad influence or something.”

  “Because you are a bad influence.”

  Maybe.

  Maybe not.

  I like to think I’m full of good ideas.

  I call it genius.

  It’s not my fault Tanner has a different definition.

  A few minutes later, Mason comes up on my other side, his eyes scanning the dance floor like mine. All three of us have something to celebrate tonight, and it has nothing to do with Brinley Thornton.

  Unfortunately, we already had plans to be here, so this is where the party is following William’s funeral.

  I wasn’t sad to see that man lowered into the ground. If you ask me, it should have happened over fifteen years ago. I still only know small parts of what was done to Ezra and Damon, but it’s enough for me to feel no guilt for William’s death.

  Not even a little bit.

  Regardless of how nasty a death it was.

  The next few weeks should be interesting, though. Especially after what Emily was able to find and what she was able to leave behind at William’s.

  I know how much Mason and Emily hated working together when it came to William, but I was proud of them for learning to get along. At least when it came to helping the twins.

  Not that their efforts were solely to take William down. They both got something out of it, too.

  Now it’s just a matter of time before those efforts pay off.

  My phone buzzes in my pocket, and as I pull it out, both Mason and Taylor get the same text, all three of us glancing at each other after reading the message.

  “Fuck,” Mason breathes out, “I bet Jase is tearing down walls at this point.”

  “Should we leave?” Taylor asks. “I can run whatever information Ezra found on Everly and see what comes up.”

  “He can wait,” I say, unable to give a damn about Jase’s problems right now. Not when there’s a short brunette with all the right curves and the talent to move them in a way that draws my attention.

  Smacking Mason’s shoulder, I lean over and shout to be heard over the boom of bass.

  “I’m going out there for a little while. Watch the door.”

  He glances at me and grins. “Go get her.”

  That’s the plan.

  Finishing the rest of my beer, I leave the empty bottle on the table and work my way out onto the dance floor, my body moving with the music, my eyes set on a girl who has no idea what kind of predator she’s attracting.

  She sees me, though, a sultry smile stretching full lips, her light eyes hooded as her hips roll over her legs, her heart shaped ass a lure that’s pulling me her direction when she turns and glances at me again from over her shoulder.

  When a girl dances like that and gives a man that look, she might as well wear a neon sign saying she wants to fuck.

  No, I’m not one of those asshats that believe what a girl wears or how she moves gives a guy the right to walk up on her and touch whatever he wants. But I do believe a woman can communicate interest without using words, can target a man through a crowd and drag him into her orbit.

  And this girl’s eyes are focused on me, her smile stretching wider when I get close and begin following her lead, our bodies moving together when she makes the first move to reach out and tug me closer.

  Fuck. She flattens our bodies together, her head falling back to expose the long line of her neck, her hips gyrating in seductive circles as sweat glimmers over her skin.

  Reaching up, I wrap my fingers in her hair and lower my head down to press my lips against her ear.

  She shivers at my touch, her eyes closing as I study her face and open my mouth to introduce myself.

  It sucks that, before I can get the first word out, fingers tap against my shoulder, a groan crawling up my throat as I turn my head to see Mason standing behind us.

  He angles his head toward the entry doors and cocks a brow.

  Fucking seriously?

  Now is when Brinley chooses to leave?

  Already this woman is driving me up a wall and back down again.

  All night, she’s sat in a booth with her friends, chatting away while I sat waiting for her to do something - anything - besides chat it up, the women at her table laughing and carrying on while they sipped on mixed drinks with little pink straws.

  Of course, now that I’m actually having fun is when she decides it’s a good time to dip out.

  I lean over to say goodbye to a beauty who won’t be getting to know me better.

  “Sorry, beautiful, but I have to go. It would have been fun, though.”

  She pokes out her bottom lip and dances off, my gaze keeping her ass in view as regret flows through me.

  Another tap against my shoulder and I turn back to Mason.

  “Let’s go,” I say, not that he can hear me over the music.

  The three of us leave the club without worrying about hurrying along.

  Brinley came to Myth alone to meet up with her friends, and I have a sneaking suspicion she won’t be leaving quickly.

  Don’t ask me how I know, just that I’m pretty damn positive about it.

  Once we’re outside, Taylor and Mason take off together, leaving me to weave through the parking lot, my steps unhurried, my hands casually stuffed in my pockets as I reach the back area and see a woman stranded because her car won’t start.

  Tall, with decent curves and long brown hair that falls in waves down her back, Brinley looks irritated as she rounds the front of her car to lift the hood and inspect the engine.

  I hang back for a little bit, watch as she reaches in to wiggle wires or check the battery connections, but eventually
she curses beneath her breath and slams the hood back down.

  It’s a pity she doesn’t have a service to help her with her problem. You would think her investigator daddy would have insisted on it. According to Taylor, he didn’t.

  Pushing away from a truck I was leaning on while watching her, I approach on a long-legged stride.

  “You okay?” I call out. “Looks like you could use some help.”

  Brinley spins around to face me, and I smile, happy to be of service as her knight in shining armor.

  This is the part where a smile should break out on her pretty face, where those almond shaped eyes should widen with appreciation.

  Instead, what I get is a nasty scowl, her eyes narrowing on my face with disgust.

  “You have got to be kidding me,” she snaps, her shoulders rolling back and hip jutting out.

  The fuck?

  This is not how women usually greet me. Especially ones who are having car problems.

  Maybe she’s just mad she can’t leave.

  I take a few steps to get closer, a full smile on my lips with the hope she’ll drop her guard.

  There’s no denying it. This woman is gorgeous when you see her up close, even with the fury in her expression.

  “You look like you’re having car problems.”

  She grins. “And you look like an arrogant ass.”

  Flinching at that, I narrow my eyes on her.

  “I think you have me confused with someone else. I was just walking through and saw you-“

  Her grin widens but it is not a friendly look.

  “Actually, no. I remember exactly who you are, but obviously you don’t remember me.”

  I still in place.

  There’s no way I’ve met her before. What the hell is she talking about?

  “You have me confused with someone,” I say again, but she just shakes her head and laughs.

  “You have a big mouth, are a ladies’ man from what I’ve seen, and are either oblivious or don’t care about the people around you if you don’t remember me.”

  I mean, she’s not wrong.

  “So I tell you what: Why don’t you strut your way back to the club and let me handle this myself. I really have no interest in dealing with car problems and an arrogant jerk all in the same night. The first problem is a pain in the ass, and the second problem - also known as you - is an annoyance I don’t need. Thanks for offering to help, but as far I’m concerned, you can run along and hit on some other unsuspecting woman. I’m not stupid enough to fall for your shit.”

  With that, she walks toward me, but steps around where I’m standing to march back to the club.

  “Tell me how you really feel,” I call out to her, laughter on my voice.

  Brinley doesn’t bother to look back. She just lifts both her hands to give me the finger as she keeps walking.

  I can’t help but like her, my mouth stretching into a grin.

  “Have a nice life, asshole! Good luck picking up the next chick!”

  My brows crash together as confusion floods me.

  Why the hell does she think she knows me?

  And if that’s the way she really feels, then this mission is going to be a hell of a lot harder than I thought.

  Although, I have to admit, with her attitude problem, this game just became a hell of a lot more interesting.

  THE END

  Heresy (Antihero Inferno Book 4) releases in August 2020 (Keep reading for a sneak peek)

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  heresy

  noun

  Opinion profoundly at odds with what is generally accepted.

  Heresy

  (Antihero Inferno Book 4)

  Blurb:

  Sixth Circle

  Heresy

  Also Known as Shane Carter

  There are no rules with this man.

  No courtesies.

  No acceptable behaviors he’ll conform to in order to be accepted.

  He marches to his own beat.

  Gives the finger to expectations.

  And does whatever pleases him because nobody can control him.

  Arrogant.

  Aggravating.

  Absolute Chaos.

  Shane is the last person you want walking into your world.

  It’s too bad he walked into mine.

  Now I can’t get rid of him.

  Not that I’m sure I want to.

  He wants something from me.

  He’s playing a game.

  And every time we come together, I can’t help feeling like I’m dancing with the Devil.

  It all started with a chance meeting.

  With the exchange of a few angry words.

  And now that I’m trapped in this man’s maze, I fear I won’t be strong enough to resist being seduced.

  Nine Ruthless Men. Nine Unrepentant Sinners. Nine Irresistible Manipulators.

  Brinley

  “I think we showed up on the wrong night. Maybe we should come back at another-“

  “We’re here now,” Ames groans, her eyes catching mine in the shadowed interior of my car. “I don’t want to make the drive again. Let’s just go in, avoid the snooty folk, and give that to your dad’s friend so we can leave and have some actual fun tonight.”

  Why I even agreed to this, I don’t know. My father sounded desperate for the help, which cornered me into doing him this favor.

  Still, looking at the event occurring at the Governor’s mansion, I’m inclined to turn around and leave.

  Ames wiggles her brows in a reminder that we have other places to be later and I laugh. I might as well get this over with now that I’m here.

  “Yeah, okay, let me just-“

  A black car pulls up behind us and honks, I assume on its way to the front of the Governor’s mansion for what is quite obviously a large event.

  Uniformed valets wait on the large front porch, the lights in the mansion ablaze against a purple, twilight sky that is just at the perfect shade to match Ames’ striking eyes.

  Pulling over to let the car pass around me, I regret not coming here yesterday like I was supposed to do. But if we can get in and out without causing too much trouble, I’m sure the late delivery won’t be a problem.

  “Oh, damn,” Ames murmurs, her elbow nudging mine. “Who the hell is that and how do I get his number?”

  I turn my head in time to see a tall, dark-haired man step out of the car currently idling in front of the mansion.

  From this distance, I can’t quite make out his features, but he looks familiar...and gorgeous.

  The suit he wears does nothing to hide a set of broad shoulders and a tapered waist, his dark eyes set on the car to watch a woman climb out, the flowing cut of her ombré gown dancing around her legs as she steps up beside him and wraps her arm with his.

  Ames snorts.

  “Of course. I should have guessed he’d have a date. But maybe there are more just like him. I’ve changed my mind. We should go in and mingle for a bit, actually. Maybe steal a glass of champagne or two.”

  Laughing at that, I remind her, “He might be one of the snooty folk, as you call them.”

  Her gaze flicks to me.

  “Looking that good, I’m sure he is. But that doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate the view.”

  Whatever the event is that’s happening tonight, it’s apparently formal, which means Ames and I will stick out like sore thumbs.

 
If I’d known there was a party tonight, I would have at least tried to dress better than a plain white, v-neck tee and body hugging jeans.

  Although, even in these clothes, I’ll stick out less than Ames. She’s already dressed for the club, her pale, pastel blue hair flowing over bare shoulders and black skin tight cami, the ends hanging down to brush the waistband of her black leather pants. The outfit does nothing to hide her dangerous curves.

  “We should make this as quick as possible. It’s an hour drive back to town and you know how it gets upstairs if we arrive too late.”

  A wicked grin splits her lips, her violet eyes sparkling with mischief to think about the fun to be had at Myth.

  “Granger is supposed to show up tonight.” Another sparkle in her eye. “Although he still can’t control me. It drives him nuts.”

  “Slut,” I tease.

  “Whatever. I’m young and in charge of my sexuality. And that man floats my boat in so many ways.” She nudges her chin at the mansion. “Let’s do this and get out of here.”

  We both climb out of the car and stroll up the long driveway in route to the front entry. Casting my gaze up to the third floor windows, I try to remember how long it’s been since I’ve spent any significant time in the mansion.

  At least ten years, I think, back when I was young and trying to grow up too fast. My father would bring me along every time he visited the governor, and I would spend time with his daughter, Ivy, for however many hours we stayed.

  Wondering if Ivy is here tonight, I run up the steps of the large porch with Ames beside me. Nodding at the valets as I pass, I turn to lock eyes with one of the security personnel. He presses a finger against his ear piece, says something so low we can’t hear, but then waves us inside the mansion.

  He must remember me from the other day when I came to pick up the flash drive. Now that we have a copy of it, there’s no need to keep the original, which is why I’m here tonight to drop it off.

  Once inside, a low whistle blows over Ames’ lips.

  “Check out this place. I hate to think what it costs.”