by Hart, Rebel
John piped up. “Are you going to warn Dani about Benji, too?”
I reached for my jacket. “I think Dani knew he was untrustworthy before I did, to be honest.”
I shrugged it on and took one last look around the backyard before I turned to my brother.
“Ready to go?” I asked.
He held his arm out. “Lead the way.”
Rupert stood quickly. “Max?”
I peered over my shoulder. “Yep?”
He sighed. “Just--would you try not to get yourself killed? Okay?”
I sighed. “Yeah. I’ll do my best.”
21
Dani
I groaned as I rolled over. My arm fell over my eyes as I tried to shield myself from the light. I felt the morning sun against my body as it slowly woke me from the temporary death I called ‘sleep.’
Get up. You’ve got class.
I sighed as my arm fell away from my face. I had plenty of time to get to class. Especially since they weren’t until the afternoon, anyway. I wasn’t worried about that. But it did tickle my funny bone that I’d woken up in the same position I fell asleep in last night.
“Must’ve been tired,” I murmured.
I pushed myself up in bed and stretched out my arms. Slipping off my leather jacket, I hung it up on the post of my bed and slid to my feet, making my way over to the small coffee maker in the corner. After pouring some of that hot honey in the bottom of my mug, I slid it onto the small platform.
“Come to mama,” I whispered.
I pressed the ‘brew’ button before it started blinking at me. Right. My roommate hated me. Usually, after she used the coffee maker, she’d leave it prepped for me. And vice versa, if I was the first one up. I stumbled around, trying to prepare the small device. I poured a bit of the coffee grounds onto the floor at my feet and cursed underneath my breath. I needed this coffee more than I could stand. Especially if I wanted to get some last-minute studying completed.
And get this paper touched up.
“Thank fuck for groveling,” I murmured.
After practically begging my professor, he’d given me an extension on the paper. It wasn’t the best thing to do to try and build rapport with my professors, but at least it gave me some breathing room. I didn’t want to take advantage of the man’s time, either. I wanted to get this paper done, succinct, and perfect well before the end of the extension date.
But, when my eyes found the digital clock on Hannah’s desk, they bulged.
“It’s already one-thirty!?”
Holy shit. If I didn’t hustle, I’d be late for class. For my afternoon classes, of all things! I took a few hot sips of my coffee and drew in a deep breath. I looked down at my outfit and groaned to myself. My clothes were wrinkled. But at least I had them on. All I had to do was wipe my face down, gurgle some mouthwash, and I’d be ready to go.
Get to it. Class is in half an hour.
I scooped up my shower caddy and made a break for the bathroom. I washed my face and brushed my teeth, deciding to take my coffee with me. I slid back into the dorm room with only twenty minutes to go. I dumped my coffee into a thermos my father had bought me during my freshman year, then gathered my things. I put my laptop in my backpack and picked up my books. I rushed out the door, almost forgetting to close it. I locked it up so Hannah didn’t have anything to bitch about, then I ran down the hallway.
With only ten minutes to get to class.
Even though I felt like a badass since running with Max, that didn’t mean I wanted to flunk out of all my classes. School was still important to me. Even if something else had also become important. And as I booked it to class, a terrifying scenario crossed my mind. One that had me clinging to my things for dear life.
“All right, class. Today’s lecture in on--”
“Yes! I made it!”
I walked through the doorway and every head in the classroom turned to face me. My jaw fell open as my professor looked at me down his nose. Beyond his glasses. Completely unimpressed with my outburst.
“Or maybe not?” I asked softly.
“Are you going to take a seat? Or do you want to give the lecture today?” he asked.
I was so wrapped up in my biggest fear coming to light that I wasn’t paying attention. I leapt up the steps two at a time and slammed my shoulder into the door of the school building. I needed a clock. I searched the walls for a clock. I couldn't be late. The universe had to have mercy on me at some point in time.
And in the process of searching for a clock, I walked around the corner, running straight into someone before my things went tumbling from my arms.
Including my coffee.
“Shit, shit, shit, shit. I’m so sorry. That was totally me.”
“You’re right. It was totally you.”
I slowly looked up from my crouched position and watched Benji’s face come into view. Every muscle in my body locked up as he grinned down at me. My eyes rolled down his body. I saw the coffee that had splattered all over his pants. His boots. There were even a few speckles on his leather jacket.
A sin that I knew wouldn't go unpunished.
“You don’t happen to have any napkins on you, would you, Bambi?” he asked.
I swallowed hard. “Nope. Can’t say I do.”
He crooked an eyebrow. “What are you still doing down there, Bambi? Care to stand for me?”
I sat on the floor. “I’m good. Thanks.”
I gathered my books and my notebooks and shoved them into my backpack. I wanted him to go away. All I wanted was for him to disappear into nothingness. I zipped my backpack up before I reached for my thermos. I outstretched my hand, easing myself forward to get it.
Before I could, Benji kicked it over into a corner.
“Oops.”
I scrambled for it. “Shit. Come on, seriously?”
Benji snickered. “Why don’t you try getting up? Unless Max has you conditioned to be on your knees.”
I snatched up my thermos. “Max doesn’t have me conditioned for anything, asshole.”
He chuckled. “Whoa, ho, ho! Look who’s finally sticking up for herself. I give it a four for execution and creativity.”
“Do you even know what those words mean?”
“I’m in college, Bambi. Of course I know what those words mean.”
I stood, walking back over to my backpack. But, Benji snatched it up. I tried to take it from him. Mostly because I felt time passing us by much too quickly. I needed to be in class. I needed to be in my seat. I didn’t need to be out here, fielding Benji’s insane bullying tactics.
“Give it to me,” I said.
He grinned. “I don’t think Max would approve of that.”
I lunged for it. “Give me my stuff, Benji.”
He held it higher. “Or you’ll what?”
I stood on my tiptoes to try and reach my bag. And the second I felt a pressure against my stomach, I went tumbling backwards. I slammed straight into the wall, cracking the back of my head against it. And as Benji’s laughter filled my ears, something hard got tossed against my chest.
“Not so tough without your boyfriend, are you?”
I blinked. “He’s gonna kill you when he finds out what you’re doing.”
Benji snickered. “What? You think he doesn’t know? You should know Max better than that right now. He already knows, sweet cheeks.”
“That’s not true. You’re lying. I know how he operates. If he knew what you were doing--”
“He’d what?”
Benji took a step toward me and my vision finally focused. He was close. Much too close for my liking. I felt his breath against my neck. I felt the toes of his boots touching my own. I licked my lips, pressing myself further into the wall. Hoping the damn thing would swallow me whole.
“What the hell does Max see in a chick like you anyway?”
I winced. “What’s it to you?”
His finger crept up my arm. “No ass. No tits. No curves. Barely anythi
ng to grab on to.”
I shrugged off his touch. “Don’t you dare touch me again.”
His smile was wolfish. “No nothing. Just a plain face and a nose that’s always buried in a book. You’re so… bland.”
“Get the hell away from me.”
“Know what I think?”
“I don’t give a shit what you think.”
He chuckled. “I think your pussy’s tight, and that’s why he keeps you in his bed.”
I tried not to let him ruffle my feathers. “At least I have more going for me than a handful of STDs and an inferiority complex so obvious anyone with half a brain could spot it.”
He arched an eyebrow. “What did you just say?”
“I thought you were smart enough to be in college. You don’t know what I just said?”
He snarled. “What did you just say to me, you bitch?”
I lifted my chin. “I’m not afraid of you. And no matter what you do to me, that isn’t changing.”
“You should be, little one. You should be very, very afraid.”
“Well, I’m not. You don’t make much of a formidable enemy. Plus, you can’t touch me. Max is going to beat you to a pulp anyway when he feels the knot on the back of my head. He’s going to ask me where I got it, and I’m going to be completely honest with him.”
“Oh, I’m really hoping you will be.”
I blinked. “What?”
He chuckled. “I like it when you challenge me, little deer. Makes my days more interesting.”
I felt his hand gripping my forearm and I shook him off.
“Put your hands on me again and see how loud I scream,” I hissed.
He smirked. “Oh, I bet Max’s entire block already knows that sound.”
I wouldn't let his quips get to me. No matter how frightened I really was of this asshole, I wouldn't give him the pleasure of seeing it. I held my ground, locking eyes with Benji and refusing to look away. This little dickhole needed to be taught a lesson in the consequences of being a bully. He wouldn't get away with it when it came to me. I’d stand up to him. I’d give him a taste of his own medicine so he knew he couldn't intimidate me. He moved closer to me. My back was flush with the wall as I pressed my palms into the cool surface. And when Benji’s pelvis fell against my own, I wiggled my hands between us.
Before I planted them on his chest and shoved him away.
He stumbled backward as laughter fell from his lips. I glared at him with wild eyes as he slouched against the wall on the other side of the hallway. He licked his lips and blew me a kiss before running a hand through his hair. And as I watched him walk off, his voice hit my ears again.
“You got lucky this time, Bambi. But I wouldn't count on it for next time.”
22
Max
I stared at my brother John as he shrugged his shoulders. Rolling my eyes, I settled my ankle against my opposite knee and leaned back into the plush leather chair of the fireplace room. A room that had held many murder plans and money laundering issues and other ‘business decisions’ my father made on a weekly basis. This place was my father’s true office. Not the one down the hall with books and a desk that never got used. This room was where my father built his empire. At the back of the house, in the shadows, without a place for anyone to hide and eavesdrop.
Just how my father liked it.
John’s good leg jiggled up a storm. I could swear I felt the foundation of the house wobbling with every jerking movement. He kept looking around, as if he were expecting some sort of a surprise. I needed him to calm down, though.
He’d never been good at covering up his emotions.
“John, take a breath.”
He sighed. “I can’t.”
“That was the wrong way. Take the breath in.”
He glared at me. “Ha. Ha. Ha.”
“Look, it’s just a house visit. Nothing to get your panties in a bunch about.”
He leaned forward. “Says the guy with two healthy legs good for running away on.”
I chuckled. “Told you not to come. But, no. You just had to.”
“I’m not stringing you out to dry. And I sure as hell--”
I chuckled harder. “Aren’t incapable? Says the man complaining about just that?”
I felt laughter mounting as my brother kept glaring at me. And for some reason, the look on his face made this all funnier. I pinched my nose to try and stop it. I felt it building up the back of my spine.
This is not the time to laugh. Get yourself under control.
“Sounds like a party in here.”
My father’s voice pierced through the moment and the laughter was gone. Toast. Dead, just like the rest of my father’s hits. John stood from his chair, wobbling around on his cane. And as I pushed myself out of the plush leather cushions, I watched my father head straight for the drink cart and pour himself four entire fingers of brandy.
Not good.
I peeked over at John as he watched our father down the drink. I mean, the man just tipped it back, opened his throat, and practically let it slide down. I’d only seen my father drink like that once in his entire life. And the end result wasn’t good for anyone in his wake.
“You two care for a drink?”
I watched him fill his glass for the second time before he turned to us.
“Nah, I’m good. John?”
He shook his head. “I’m the one driving.”
Dad nodded. “Suit yourselves. Though this impromptu house call must be serious if you two are declining free top-shelf liquor.”
I didn’t like the way Dad was studying me.
“You good, Max?”
I paused. “Why wouldn't I be?”
He narrowed his eyes. “That yellow on your face?”
I shrugged. “Not important.”
He turned fully toward me. “Who used you as a punching bag?”
I clicked my tongue. “Was kind of hoping you could tell me that.”
In the corner of my eye, I saw my brother go stiff. He straightened out his back and turned his shoulder toward the door. Like he actually thought we’d be able to make a break for it if Dad decided to come after us. It was do or die with our father. Always had been. And if he set his sights on someone, no amount of running would get them any further away than Dad wanted them to be.
I knew John wasn’t expecting me to come out of the gate so strongly. But I wasn’t here to waste anyone’s time. There were consequences, in and of themselves, for people that wasted this man’s time. And I was suspicious of my father’s motives. Always had been. I wouldn’t put it past the old man to be pulling strings in the background for some reason. Working his way away from the Red Thorns. Hell, even trying to dismantle us.
There came a time in every organization my father utilized where it eventually got torn down. People got shifted around. New faces came in and old ones mysteriously disappeared. That was how my father kept his reputation fresh and his hands clean. And the Red Thorns were the longest-running organization that had some serious dirt on the man.
Maybe he was doing this because he was done with our help. Maybe he was ready to take us all out. Maybe he had a new crew he was using. That would explain why we hadn’t worked in months. Why most of us were scraping the bottom of our savings accounts just to fucking eat.
Come to think of it, that last client we had was when things started going to shit. When that dumbass client refused to pay.
How convenient.
Maybe someone offered him a great deal of money to end my reign in the Red Thorns. Or maybe someone had offered him something sweeter. Power. Control. Ownership over something in exchange for my life.
I stared at my father for what seemed like decades. And when he smiled, the nape of my neck prickled.
“I don’t know what you’re trying to imply, son.”
I shrugged. “I’m not implying anything. I’m asking you a question. Do you know who’s coming after me?”
He chuckled. But he didn’
t say anything. He just kept looking at me before he chuckled. Then, he’d stop. His eyes would find mine. And he’d chuckle again.
“Come on, John. There are no answers for us here,” I said.
I turned my back on Ashton before he spoke again.
“Your little club is just that, Max.”
I paused. “What?”
“A little club. That’s all it is. Maybe your parading around this town like you own the damn place has rubbed some people the wrong way.”
My eyes gravitated over to my brother and I saw fear in his eyes. I kept my back to my father, trying to seem unaffected by his words. I didn’t like the tone of them, though. That accusing tone. That gaslighting, manipulative bullshit he always pulled on people.
Not on me, though. “That what you think? Or is that what you’ve heard?”
I slowly turned around and faced my father again, watching as he threw back the rest of his second drink.
“You know my sources are always accurate.”
I snickered. “Sources. Got it.”
He shrugged. “You’re the one that came to ask. I’m sorry the answer isn’t more… fulfilling.”
“Yeah. Maybe. But, in any case, in this town, there’s only a handful of people with the manpower to send trained thugs after me. Twice.”
My father’s eyes held mine. “Perhaps you should consider the other threats more carefully, son.”
I ran my eyes down my father’s body, studying his posture. I took in the way he still held his glass, even though he was done with the drink. His shoulders weren’t rolled back, but squared off. Ready for a fight. His hands were always his tell, though. My father had this fidgety way about his pinky whenever he got waist-deep into a lie of his. And holding his glass gave that damn pinky something to do other than fly around in the air like it always did.
The hard line of his jaw and the creases in his brow gave me everything I needed to know, though.
“Tell me, Dad. When were you going to tell us you got a better contract with another crew?”
John’s voice piped up from behind. “Let’s just go. He’s not going to tell you anything.”
