A lot more.

She leaned down, melting her soft, sweet lips to mine, and I held her h*ps tight. I knew I couldn’t stay, but I didn’t want to stop, either.

Advertisement

“Jared,” a deep male voice threatened, and we both jerked our heads to the door.

Shit. Tate’s dad.

I sighed, shaking my head.

“You need to go home now,” he ordered me through the closed door. “We’ll see you for dinner tomorrow night.”

Awesome.

My body was screaming, but what could I tell him?

Hey, I need your daughter for about three hours or until she passes out from exhaustion? Or, would you mind if I slept over, because I never sleep so well as when Tate’s lips are buried in my neck?

Yeah, I snorted, that’d go over really well. “Yes, sir,” I responded, and I could feel Tate’s body shaking with silent laughter.

I looked back to her. “I guess I need to go.”

-- Advertisement --

She held my shirt, touching her nose to mine. “I know,” she said reluctantly. “Thank you for my bracelet.”

I climbed off the bed and kissed the hell out of her before we said goodbye. She damn well wasn’t making it easy, either, looking at me like she wanted to eat me.

But I did as I was told—for now—and climbed back through the tree.

Now, I was actually thrilled that Mr. Brandt had never cut this thing down.

Wait…he might now, though.

I laughed to myself as I crawled back through my window, waved to her, and shut off the lights.

The hard-on in my pants hadn’t lessened, and I was half-tempted to bring her back to my room.

Another cold shower night.

Making my way to the bathroom, I felt my phone vibrate against my thigh, and I grabbed it out of my pocket.

Looking at the screen, I had an urge to flush it down the toilet.

K.C.

Chapter 39

I groaned.

It was late, and she and I weren’t chatty. What the hell did she want?

Sliding the screen, I answered. “Yeah?”

“I have something for you,” she sang, her voice slow and sultry and way too unnerving.

I straightened my shoulders, tensing. “I’m sure I’m not interested,” I said flatly, turning on the shower.

“Oh, you will be.” I could hear the smile in her voice. “I’m at Madoc’s house. Hurry or we’ll start without youuuu.”

Jesus. I wasn’t one to judge, but K.C. could be a little stupid sometimes. Right now, however, she just seemed drunk.

“Put him on the phone,” I ordered, my patience circling the drain.

I heard her giggle before the rustle on the other end.

“Dude, just get over here,” Madoc laughed, keeping his voice low. “You’ll want a piece of this.”

What the f**k? “Of K.C.?”

“What?” Madoc got defensive. “K.C.’s awesome. She got you a present. He’s waiting in the hot tub right now. I’ll give you a hint. His name is Nate.”

My pulse throbbed in my throat, and my face got hot.

“So get your f**king ass over here!” he shouted at me and hung up.

Oh, man. I breathed in and out, wanting to laugh and kick something at the same time.

Okay, I guess K.C. wasn’t stupid, after all.

I had no idea how she wound up with Nate—and at Madoc’s house—but it was perfect.

I would pound the shit out of him for myself, but I’d kill him for Tate.

When I thought of how she’d cried, having to face her father last week. Or of how I’d escorted her to every class to make sure no one said shit to her.

Every tear down her face, every shake of her chest, and every time she’d closed her eyes in embarrassment was pain that I’d caused. Nate and Piper didn’t have a problem with her. They retaliated against me.

I walked into the spare bedroom and shook my brother awake. “Wanna go pick a fight?”

After we’d gone into Chicago today for Tate’s present, he’d crashed at my house. Even though I hated that he wasn’t with us, I was relieved his foster parents were lenient with the visitations. He’d slept over every night this week, driving an hour to school every day.

“Hell, yes,” he mumbled groggily and got out of bed.

He pulled his hair back into a long ponytail, and we both slipped into our Trent trademark black hoodies before walking out the door. My mom was asleep, and I briefly thought of trying to grab Tate and take her along, but it was better that she stayed home. No use taking the chance of getting her into more trouble.

We climbed into my nearly repaired Boss, and set out.

Jax yawned at my side as we cruised the slick, black streets to the other side of town.

“You don’t get in until late, and you’re always up early. You need more sleep.” I tried to catch glimpses of him out of the corner of my eye.

He shook his head. “You should talk. I wake up to you cussing in the f**king shower at two a.m. every morning. You need to go grab that girl and take her for a nice, long drive tomorrow. I’m sure she’s hurting for it as badly as you.”

I narrowed my gaze out the window but couldn’t keep the laugh out of my voice. “It wouldn’t make any difference. I’d still need a cold shower. When you’ve got someone you love, you always want more.”

“Oh, Jesus,” he whined. “Just don’t get her name tattooed on your body, please. The only chick’s name a guy should ever have tattooed is his daughter’s.”

I shook my head but couldn’t help the vision of a little brown haired girl with storm-blue eyes riding on my shoulders someday.

Jesus Christ.

I stared out the window, trying not to think about how my ideas of my future were changing.

Jax and I drove the rest of the way in silence to Madoc’s house, which was about ten times classier than the neighborhood Tate and I lived in.

Don’t get me wrong. We lived in a great area. Lots of well-kept houses, parks, and cozy neighborhood block parties.

But Madoc? He lived in a place too rich for the town’s lawyers and doctors. It wasn’t a place for just professionals. It was a neighborhood for surgeons and corporate CEOs who kept their families hidden away while they worked in Chicago.

Driving up to the 12-foot black metal gate, I punched in the code.

During the day, there was security on duty to check visitors in and out, but at night, the staff was spread thin and usually spent their time patrolling the community in their SUVs.

The gate hummed as it swung open, and I slowly descended the perfectly paved street leading into the Seven Hills Valley.

After a few houses, we turned into Madoc’s driveway and curved around the loop in front of his door. Hopping out, I slammed the door shut and clenched my hands, trying to get psyched up. I still wasn’t sure what my plan here was, but as usual, I dove head first and acted like I knew what I was doing.

When in doubt, stick to what you know.

I heard Jax fall in behind me, and we both walked into Madoc’s house and charged through the foyer toward the back.

Really, it was a mansion, but Madoc corrected me on that term years ago. It was a house…or else.

He never bragged about his position in life or his money. If he did, we wouldn’t be friends.

“Hey, dude. ‘Bout f**kin’ time.” He jogged up to meet us in the hallway. He wore ridiculous black and gray plaid board shorts and his blonde hair, slicked back, looked like he’d just been swimming. But the rest of him was dry.

Halloween was in two days, and it was freezing, but Madoc’s Jacuzzi would make the weather tolerable.

I stopped in front of him. “So he actually came into your house?” I asked.

Nate knew Madoc was my best friend. After the video, I didn’t think Nate was so stupid that he would trust breathing the same air as Madoc.

He smiled. “That’s the awesome part. He thinks this is K.C.’s house.” His eyes gleamed like he was so proud he fooled Nate. “K.C. was out tonight and ran into him. She cooked up a scheme and texted me. I told her to bring him here. He hasn’t even seen me yet.”

He shrugged his shoulders and waited for me to respond.

I held back, not sure about how far I wanted to take this. I had shit to lose now, and for the first time in a long time, I cared about where my life went.

Jax cleared his throat at my side. “Leash a little tight, Jared?”

Leash?

Fucking little shit.

I cocked my head to the side and shot him a look, but he just smiled and looked away.

Jax knew everything that had gone down with Nate—he was helping with the video after all—and while he gave me a hard time about my attachment to Tate, he was on our side. He wanted to see that ass**le pay as much as we did.

Stalking down the hall through the kitchen, I felt Madoc and Jax fall in behind me.

I spied K.C. and Nate through the glass doors, carousing in the hot tub, before I walked out and interrupted his relaxed little world.

“K.C., out of the hot tub.” I jerked my head to the side.

“Wha—” Nate started.

“Don’t talk.” I cut him off.

K.C., dressed in only her black bra and underwear, sloshed water out of the tub as she climbed out.

“Get his clothes,” I ordered whoever without taking my eyes off Nate. In a second, it was Madoc who came up and grabbed Nate’s shit from the side of the tub.

I wasn’t sure if Nate was wearing anything, but knowing him, he was all guts.

He didn’t talk as his blue eyes darted between me, Madoc, and Jax. I wasn’t sure where K.C. had gone, but I hadn’t heard the door to the house open, so I assumed she was still here on the patio.

“Jax, give me your knife.” I held my hand out to my side, my eyes still focused on Nate’s shocked expression, and a moment later, a switchblade was a placed in my palm.

Sliding the switch, the partially serrated blade shot out, vibrating in my hand.

Nate’s eyes got wider, and his gaze shifted around like he was looking for an escape route.

Yeah, don’t even try.

“You know why I’m pissed.” I stood on the opposite side of the tub, facing him. “And you should’ve known I wasn’t going to forget.”

“Jared—” he started.

“Shut up,” I shot out.

His short, black hair was sweaty and clung to his forehead, while his lips trembled slightly.

“We could’ve gone to the police,” I told him, “but I settle my own scores.” I rotated my wrist, emphasizing the blade. “And it’s really going to hurt.”

“Please.” His voice was raspy as he tried getting up. “I can explain.”

“Explain?” I barked, and he sat back down. “Which part? The time you tried to force yourself on my girlfriend in the woods, or when you videotaped us na**d and put it out for the whole world to see?”

I circled the hot tub, getting in his space. “You see, I can understand that you’re too stupid to understand a simple direction.” I dropped my voice to hell and let the knife do some talking. “But you will understand this. You’re going to have a very uncomfortable night.”

I inched closer, leaning in.

“I’m sorry,” he gasped out, his blue eyes dancing between my face and the shiny, black blade in my right hand. “I shouldn’t have touched her. I won’t even look at her again. Please, don’t.”

“You’re what?” I stopped and asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“I’m sorry,” he said louder.

“Sorry for what?”

“I’m sorry for messing with your girlfriend,” he rushed out.

“No.” I shook my head like I was speaking to a toddler. “You’re sorry for messing with Tate,” I prompted.

Whether or not she’s my girlfriend, he doesn’t mess with her again. Ever.

-- Advertisement --