by Eva Ashwood
You have no idea.
Ugh. I will myself not to blush. The last thing I need is for this guy to ask me what I was thinking about, because there’s no socially acceptable way to explain that my head was full of thoughts about fucking one of the men who’s basically keeping me hostage, and I don’t have a convenient lie in place just yet.
Instead, I just force a little laugh and smile at him. “Yeah, that’s not hard to do. If this class wasn’t a requirement for Gen Ed, I’d have dropped it in a heartbeat.”
Dean nods and shifts closer to me as another group of students move past us. “I don’t blame you. It’s boring, and I’m pretty sure I read all these books in high school already. Hated them then, so I’m not sure why they expect me to give a shit now.”
“And now we have the honor of paying for it.” I make a face. “Lucky us.”
He laughs. It’s a nice sound. Warm and open, and the way he smiles makes his eyes even brighter. “So, hey,” he says, changing the subject abruptly. “I know we don’t really talk or anything, but you seem pretty cool, so was wondering if maybe you’d like to get lunch or something—”
Before he can finish his sentence, an arm drapes itself over my shoulder.
I tense in surprise. I’m ready to knock the arm away and read whoever it is the riot act for daring to come up and touch me, but then I turn my head to see Levi standing there.
He leans into me possessively, eyes narrowed as he looks Dean over. Then he smiles all of a sudden, looking flirtatious and happy when he turns back to meet my gaze.
“Hey, babe,” he says in that low tone that makes me want to punch him in the dick and then kiss him senseless. It’s not even remotely close to being fair.
I just stand there, surprised and not sure what the fuck he’s thinking, and then he ups the ante by dropping a kiss to my cheek and looking right back at Dean like he’s daring him to finish the sentence he started earlier.
“Oh,” Dean mutters. “Sorry. I didn’t know.”
He looks as surprised as I feel and more than a little put out, but he—wisely—doesn’t say anything, instead just giving me a tight smile and then going on his way.
I wait until he’s gone and we’re mostly alone before I round on Levi, jerking out of his hold and wiping at my cheek like I can get rid of the feeling of his lips there. It’s more for show than anything, because I can still feel the lingering warmth, and I know my cheeks are pink. I hate, absolutely hate, how easily these men affect me.
“What the fuck was that?” I demand, jaw clenching as I glare at him.
He just shrugs, looking like he’s not sorry and doesn’t care one way or another if I’m pissed off about it.
“What were you gonna do, Mercy? Go out with some guy while you’re under our watch? Gavin’s been pretty damn lenient about this whole thing, letting you stay in school while your dad pays off his debt. But there’s no fucking way any of us are going to babysit you on a date, and there’s no way you’re going on a date without one of us there. See how the math doesn’t add up? I was doing you a favor.”
“A favor?” I repeat, incredulous. “I don’t know if anyone’s ever explained the definition of the word ‘favor’ to you assholes, but you clearly don’t get what it means. Holding someone hostage doesn’t count as doing them a favor.”
Instead of responding to that, he just glances after Dean, narrowing his eyes. “You seriously wanted to go out with that pretty boy?”
No. Not really. But…
“That’s not the point!” I glower at him. “The point is, my body is my own. Who I fuck or date or what the hell ever is nobody’s business but mine. It sure as hell doesn’t concern you or Rory or Sloan. I don’t know why I have to keep saying this, but just because I have to live with you temporarily doesn’t mean you own me. I can do what I want.”
Levi… doesn’t seem convinced. There’s a look in his eyes that seems to suggest he thinks it’s very much his business, and he should have some say. It’s a little possessive, a little hungry, and a little too full of over-the-top male pride for me to deal with for another fucking second.
I roll my eyes and march away, ready to be done with this asshole and his bullshit, but just like I knew he would, he follows me anyway. Of course. Because he’s my goddamn babysitter. I have to deal with him until the day is over, and then I can go back to the house and slam a door in his face.
The worst part of it is that I know he’s not wrong.
He might not’ve acknowledged my words about being their hostage, but that’s still what I am. Just because I get to leave the house sometimes and they’re not keeping me locked up or chained to the bed or something, it doesn’t change the stark reality that I’m faced with.
While I’m staying with them, they have some level of power over me. Just because they choose not to exercise the full extent of it often doesn’t change the fact that I’m in a precarious situation.
As long as I’m under their roof, I can’t live the way I want to. Not without their say-so.
I clench my jaw, refusing to let my gaze drift over to Levi where he walks by my side.
Please, Dad. Hurry up and do whatever they asked you to.
I still need more time with these guys if I want to gather damaging information about the Black Roses, but at this point, I’m not sure I even care about that anymore.
I just want out.
12
“Fuck, Scar. I don’t know how much longer I can deal with this.” I let out a plaintive groan, lying flat on my back on my bed. “It’s like being in fucking prison. All week, I’ve got Levi on my ass, following me around, making sure I can’t do anything fun, and then when I’m here, I have to deal with all three of them. I go to class, I come back, and I hide from them in my room—because if I don’t, I’m likely to punch one or all of them in the face at any given moment.”
It’s been another exhausting week, and I’m pretty close to losing my mind. After Levi’s stunt with Dean after my class last Friday, I’ve been giving him the cold shoulder, but it hasn’t done anything to change the fact that he’s still always there.
Usually, on the weekends I have plenty to do. I go dancing with Scarlett or go to a fight. I go to the gym, do grocery shopping, whatever. Something other than sitting in a room, staring at the same four walls.
I could go downstairs and make use of the guys’ gaming systems or watch a movie or something, but the tradeoff of having to deal with them doesn’t seem all that worth it.
“The worst part is, I still haven’t heard from Dad. I feel like anxiety is eating me alive.” I shake my head, letting out a breath. “I don’t know if it would be better or worse if I knew what he’s supposed to be doing for them, but at least if I knew something, maybe I wouldn’t worry about him so damn much.”
“Yeah.” I can practically hear the grimace in her voice. “That sucks. He’s strong though. He’s a fighter. You know he’ll be okay.”
I nod, chewing hard on my lower lip. I know the first two things are true, and I try to let my faith in my dad’s strength convince me that he’ll come out of this just fine. But it’s hard. He’s just one guy, and I have no idea if what they asked of him was reasonable or not.
What if it’s some Herculean task that no one could accomplish? What if that’s why they gave it to him? As a way of just fucking with him, punishing him for not throwing the fight like they asked?
My mind starts spiraling through dire thoughts and imagined scenarios again, and I drag a hand through my hair.
“Fuck. I need to get out and get some space or I’m going to go crazy.” I sigh.
“So go out,” Scarlett says. “What’s the worst they can do?”
“I don’t know, lock me in my room? We haven’t really talked about the boundaries of this… arrangement. Except that I can’t go on a date without one of them chaperoning me, which none of them will do. So basically, I can’t date.”
She sucks her teeth, making an annoyed sound. “They sound like
control freaks.”
“They really are,” I agree immediately. “I mean, I told you what happened with Dean last week. They act like just because I have to be here with them for the foreseeable future, they can run my life. I’m fucking sick of it.”
“Maybe it’s time to test the waters a bit,” Scarlett suggests. “They can’t really expect you to just sit at home doing nothing, right? You’re a young, hot woman in the prime of her life. Making you into a boring old homebody is a crime.”
I laugh at her outraged tone and roll onto my stomach. “Something tells me it’s not a crime they really care about. But you’re right. I need to see what they’ll let me get away with. Clearly I can’t go out with a guy without them getting all alpha male on me, but maybe getting a drink with a girl is okay.”
“Yes!” She perks up immediately at that suggestion. “You should come out with me. We’ll get drinks and go dancing or whatever. Have a girl’s night!”
It feels like it’s been forever since I’ve seen my best friend for more than five minutes at a time on campus, so the idea makes me smile. It sounds like the perfect thing to get me out of the funk I’m in and give me a little space to clear my head from the guys. Not that I think they’ll let me go alone, but in a club with the dim lights and ever shifting crowd, it should be pretty easy to get some distance.
Sitting up, I square my shoulders. “Okay. I’ll tell them and then text you.”
“Yay, I can’t wait! Let me know what they say.”
I hang up the call and leave my room, padding downstairs. My three keepers are in the living room, Rory and Levi on the couch while Sloan is draped over the armchair. There’s a movie on the TV, but they don’t seem to be paying too much attention to it.
Rory is the first one to see me when I walk in, and he pats the spot on the couch next to him with a grin. Levi glances over at me and then back to the TV, and Sloan seems happy enough to pretend I’m not there at all. That’s fine with me.
“I’m going out,” I announce, arms folded.
Levi lifts an eyebrow and hits pause on the movie. “Is that so?”
“Yes. It’s so. I’ve been nowhere but class and this house since you brought me here, and you can’t keep me locked up forever. I’m not trying to run away or whatever. I just need a break. You can come if you want, but I’m going.”
None of their expressions have changed one bit. I grit my teeth, determination rising up in me.
“Look, I don’t know why my dad didn’t throw that fight. Fuck, I don’t know why he agreed to throw it in the first place. He’s always fought fair, and he’s never let anyone buy him before.” I pause, wrestling my emotions under control. “But he’s trying to make amends for that now, right? He’s playing along, doing what you guys are asking of him. So am I. I’m not gonna run or do anything shady. I just need to get out for a little while before I go fucking nuts.” I hesitate again, and the last word is the hardest one of all. “Please.”
The three of them exchange glances, and Sloan goes so far as to shrug. “Fine. It’s not like we had anything to do anyway.”
“Let’s all go,” Rory suggests. “I could use a night out. It’s been a while.”
Honestly, I’m shocked that I got my way. I truly expected them to tell me to fuck off back to my room and maybe lock the door on me for good measure, but I’m not about to complain.
I’m also not about to thank them, so instead I just tell them we’re leaving at eight. Then I dash upstairs to shower and change into a short, curve-hugging dress after I text Scarlett to let her know.
For the first time since they abducted me, we all pile into the car. Rory takes shotgun this time, leaving me in the back with Levi while Sloan drives. Rory chatters the way Rory always seems to, and the other two respond, leaving me alone for a change.
I tell them the name of the club, and it’s no surprise that they already know how to get there. They know the city inside and out, it seems.
Sapphire is one of those clubs that gets especially packed on a Friday night. It’s close enough to both the community college and the main university that college students can get there by bus or car to blow off steam after a long week. The drink specials and the fact that the DJ isn’t terrible make it a popular spot, and the place is already loud and chaotic when we get there and manage to find a place to park.
Scarlett’s waiting outside once we walk up, and she throws her arms around me as soon as she sees me. She looks good in a tight red dress, low cut enough that it shows a good bit of her cleavage, with a hem that barely hides the tops of her thighs. She’s wearing matching heels that lift her to being just an inch or so taller than me, and she takes advantage of it to see over my shoulder when she squeezes me tight and starts eyeing up the guys.
I just roll my eyes, but have to admit they do look super hot.
I’ve never seen them dressed nicely before, since usually they’re in jeans and t-shirts or gym clothes when they’re around the house. But they all put in some effort to go out, even though they really didn’t have to. Honestly, all three of them could have shown up in paper sacks, and they still probably would have been the best looking men in the place.
Rory’s shirt is tight enough to show off his pecs, and the sleeves are short, so his tattoos are on display. His hair is artfully tousled, making it look like he might have just rolled out of bed and come to dance, which of course is designed to make people think about him in bed. The asshole.
Levi’s dressed casually as usual, though his jeans are a bit tighter than ones I’ve seen before, and the sleeves of his long-sleeved shirt are rolled up, showing off strong forearms. His natural hotness is enough to make the outfit look better than it would have on anyone else, and there are already people eyeing him as they walk past us into the club.
Of the three of them, Sloan seems the least pleased to be out, even though he’s dressed the nicest. His button-down shirt almost matches the color of his storm cloud eyes, and the sleeves are rolled up like Levi’s. His jeans are dark, unsurprisingly. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him wear a bright color before. It doesn’t really matter since monochrome works for him, and his male model status is untouched.
Scarlett’s eyes look like they’re nearly falling out of her head as she looks them over, and I grab her arm and drag her inside. I already know the three of them are probably the most gorgeous guys present, and unfortunately, so do they. We definitely don’t need Scarlett drooling over them to drive the point home.
The point of going out tonight is to cut loose a bit and think about something other than the three of them and how frustrating they are. To stop worrying about my dad nonstop and get out of my head a little. In fact, I resolve that until we leave, I’m not going to think about my three keepers at all. Instead, I’m going to do my damnedest to enjoy myself.
I nod with determination, and we split up from there. The guys head for the bar, and Scarlett and I watch as they order drinks from the obviously interested bartender. None of them seem to give her the time of day though, and they take their drinks and move to stand at the perimeter of the large space, avoiding the main section of the club where people are dancing.
They stand together, serious-faced as they talk, and for a second, I consider trying to eavesdrop on their conversation. It’s probably Black Rose business, and it could be important, but with the music and the crush of people, there’s no way I’d be able to hear anything anyway. So maybe, for tonight, I’ll just forget about it.
I deserve a break, after all, and there’s no telling when the next time I get to come out will be.
Scarlett still has a hold on my hand, and I let her lead me over to the bar. She has to practically lean all the way over it to flag down the bartender, but manages to put our drink orders in, voice raised to be heard above the thumping music.
I bob my head while we wait, already feeling the tension from the week starting to bleed out of me. With the guys out of sight and the prospect of a night of dancing and cutt
ing loose ahead of me, my mood is better than it’s been since all of this started.
Scarlett plasters herself to my side, already working her hips in time to the music.
“God, I can’t believe you get to live with those three,” she says, her gaze finding them where they’re leaning against the wall, giving off clear “fuck off and don’t bother us” vibes while they talk.
“You say that like it’s some kind of prize.” I snort. “I don’t get to live with them. I have to. I don’t have a choice. And I don’t want to talk about them tonight, okay? I just want to blow off some steam.”
She leans over and presses a messy kiss to my cheek and then squeezes my shoulder as two shots are pushed our way by the bartender. “You got it, hot stuff.”
When she pulls back, her blue eyes are serious. I know she can tell how fucked up I am about all of this, and she can probably see how badly I need to get out of my own head. She puts on a wide grin as she picks up both shot glasses and hands one to me. “Bottoms up!”
I follow her lead and knock back the shot, feeling the burn of the tequila as it blazes its way down my throat. In just a matter of seconds, the warmth of it fills me, and I feel myself getting more relaxed. Thank goodness for Scarlett and her fake ID, not that this place makes a habit of carding.
“Okay,” Scarlett says, setting her glass down on the polished wood of the bar and putting her hands on her hips. “Dancing. Let’s do this.”
I laugh, and we make our way to the dance floor, weaving through the throngs of people with the same idea. There’s not much space that isn’t already occupied by other bodies, gyrating and grinding to the low, sensuous beats, but we manage to find a little section to claim for ourselves and just go for it.
Dancing is always fun for me. It’s almost as physical as fighting, and there’s something so freeing about shutting my brain off and just letting the rhythm take over. Scarlett and I have done this at least a couple times a month since we were old enough to get into places like this, and we dance together for a few songs, arms overhead and hips swaying to the beat.
