“Just because my car is red doesn’t mean it’s my favorite color,” I say defiantly.
They all burst out laughing. Nate’s eyes come to mine. “We know, baby. Chill.”
Then he drops down onto the sofa, his eyes back on the game.
Brantley and Bishop chuckle, and Bishop stands up, ruffling my hair with his hand. “You’ve been a good friend to Madison, Tillz. And to us… can’t imagine this life without your pink hair in it.”
I clutch my chest, batting my lashes. “Aw.”
His eyes roll. “Don’t get used to the sweet nothings. You won’t hear them again!” He disappears through the room and up the stairs, bottle of scotch between his fingers. Scotch, not bourbon.
I lick my lips, the alcohol slowly coating my fear. “You okay, little terror?” Brantley asks behind his glass.
I nod. “Hey,” I lean forward. “The Tesla?”
He freezes, his eyes cutting to mine. “You saw her?”
“Yes,” I hiss, whispering. Why am I whispering?
Brantley’s eyes come to mine, darkening. “Why do I trust you?”
I tilt my head. “The feeling is mutual, Brantley.”
“No.” He shakes his head, tipping his head back to sink the rest of his drink. “Why do I trust you with the knowledge of the one person I don’t even trust myself with?”
Because I’ll protect her. I want to say.
Because I want to shield her. And you. And destroy anyone that comes near whatever it is that you both share. I also want to say.
“I don’t know,” I whisper instead. “Why do you?”
He pauses and then licks his lip. “I don’t know. When I know, I’ll tell you.”
He leans over, kissing my head and I play with my glass as I watch Nate get riled up in the lounge, shoving at Eli who is making jokes about the LA Lakers beating the Golden State Warriors. Who knows. I’m bored. But within my boredom, I see these Kings as an outsider. They’re the most feared individuals by anyone with half a brain in this world or the knowledge of who they are, but really, through my eyes, they’re still a pack of boys, just with extracurricular activities, and who wouldn’t flinch at tearing a head clean off the shoulders of anyone who dared hurt anyone they cared about.
Does that make them bad people? I think it only makes them bad to people who have ill intent. I scoop up my drink and run my fingers through my hair, swiping my hair out of my face. Padding around the space, I take in things that I maybe didn’t notice the first time I was here. Like the fact that there’s a sharp tower sticking up in the middle of the forest in the mess of treetops. Or that there’s an array of photographs scattered all over the place, not just of Bishop’s family, but of Nate, too. And Eli, and Hunter and Jase and Cash. There are old black and white photos of other families, people who I’m guessing were also a part of The Kings. I stop in front of another image. It was of Hector, alone, cradling a baby.
“Who is this?” I nod my head at the photo that’s on one of the many small mantles nailed to the feature wall.
“Must be Abel,” Nate states, tilting his head. The baby isn’t wearing blue or pink. It’s colored, but old. Nate’s eyes scan it a beat longer and then he puts it back. “Definitely Abel. Way too fucking pretty to be Bishop.”
Bishop flips him off, parading down the stairs as Nate takes another seat on the sofa and goes back to watching the game.
I stand, my eyes scanning them all.
Do they think I’m fucking stupid?
I want to say that Hector isn’t supposed to know that Abel exists. That that is what they had told me, but I find my mouth glued shut. I’ll gather my information and hit them when I need, there’s no point announcing that I know this, because that gives them time to change their story, maybe throw a few lies around.
I’d rather play dumb.
I shrug, making my way back to the sofa and take a seat beside Nate.
He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, looking at me over his shoulder. Half his face is covered by that shoulder, but his eyes scan me up and down.
“You good?”
“Peachy!” I smile, batting my lashes. He goes back to the game and my smile falls. Asshole.
My eyes swing around to meet Abel and he’s watching me closely. It’s scary how much he looks like Bishop. I’d bet my ass on the fact that they’re twins had they not had an age gap.
He grins at me like he knows what I’m thinking.
I wink at him.
The thing about fucking with people is that that person begins to learn the art that you fuck, and they fuck you back harder, with perfect precision and execution.
The sun has set a burnt orange hue in the sky, and I’m feeling itchy to get off this couch.
“Is there food in there to cook?”
Nate slaps my ass as I get up and I turn around, glaring at him.
He blows me a kiss. “Yeah, there should be.”
I round the sofa, still glaring at Nate, who is still smirking at me. When I enter back into the kitchen, the front door swings open.
“Sorry I’m late!” Bailey hollers.
The boys don’t move from their spots.
“Thank god!” I wave her into the kitchen. “I’m starting to grow a dick.”
Bailey laughs, removing her large puffy jacket and placing it on the hook.
“Oh, I can assure you, I’ve fucked that pussy way too hard for it to turn into anything other than a drippi—”
I slap the back of his head as we head into the kitchen.
Bailey rolls her eyes, laughing.
“Okay, so I figured we can all eat outside tonight because I did say I wante—”
I turn around, and Bailey has stopped. I follow her line of sight, and hello, Abel.
I lean into her. “Oh I see…”
She flinches, turning to look at me. “What?”
I chuckle. “Nothing. Come help
