Pretty Little Lies

25. Bay

TWENTY-FIVE

bay

“Make sure you keep that jacket on, McQueen. You’ll kill ‘em out here if you take it off.” Reeve’s voice caresses the back of my neck as I feel the slight push of his chest against my spine. The soft grip at my hip transforms into a slight sweeping motion to my torso before it disappears. “You mind turnin’ around so I can see the rest?”

It’s become apparent that my brain will comply to every command Reeve lays out. The orgasm he gave me the other day unlocked that power and the fact that he got me to stay at this party—let’s just say, I’m getting pretty close to the pathetic line of dick-whipped by the man himself. I just need to make sure he doesn’t get the notification.

However, it doesn’t stop me from slowly turning, inhaling a deep and well-need breath, as I find Reeve crowding my space. He doesn’t back off, making me tuck my chin into my chest to access the navy-blue tux that sculpts over his lean muscles and the pink tie he’s wearing. He still has his nose ring in his left nostril and the unkempt dirty blond hair that obsessively makes me want to run my fingers through it and, fuck me…he’s too much.

He changed after my Matteo incident and found a dress for me. Don’t know who’s it is, it’s a little tight, but it fits. Also, not fully understanding why the hell I’m still at this party, but Reeve was so fucking beside himself after the incident that I couldn’t leave him behind.

“You clean up nice,” I compliment him during my once-over. “You on Forsaken Crew duty tonight?”

“Just for appearances,” he replies, reaching for the ends of my leather jacket and opening them a tad wider to get a better look at my dress underneath. “Goddamn, woman…” He sucks in an audible breath and rocks his head back and forth. “You’re makin’ it real hard to not beg you to put me out of my misery already.”

Same.

His hazel eyes darken as he continues roaming over the tight material of my red dress. It’s a tad short, but it makes my legs appear longer, and I do look pretty damn good in it.

“Why didn’t I fuck you the other day?” His question sounds legitimately confused, as if he’s suffered some mild form of insanity from lack of doing when I did, in fact, beg him to.

I’m glad that he didn’t—in a sense.

Nonetheless, it doesn’t ease the tension that lingers between him and I. It’s thick and smoldering. Even now, I can feel the sweat forming along the back of my neck as Reeve appreciates every inch of my body.

“McQueen, I think you and I need to go somewhere.”

“And where’s that?” Torin cuts in, seizing my moment with the least asshole of the three Forsaken Crew boys. He flanks my side while Reeve holds my front. “She just survived an almost drowning and arrived not too long ago to appease our father figure.”

Slicing my gaze to Pretty Boy, he’s in a black dress shirt that’s cupped at mid-forearm, the top two buttons undone. He’s permitting his facial hair to grow out, giving him the rugged I’m growing up boy next store vibe and I’m digging it.

Then I’m reintroduced to his golden eyes that securely hold mine.

“If I didn’t know any better, Wildfire, I’d say you wore your name tonight,” Torin quips, roaming his own assessment of me. “You’re fucking fire in that dress.”

“And prey on everyone’s take-home list tonight,” Reeve adds in. “I think we need to fix that.”

“I think I’m safe here, boys,” I vouch. “You said you chased Matteo out?”

“Nah, that’s giving him too much credit. He left like a bitch.” Torin leans in a tad, the sudden fall of his palm on my stomach making me gasp like a dumbass. I’m hidden from view because of Reeve’s body and Levi’s jacket, a momento he sent off with me to keep me safe, but I’m not feeling the effect of its powers right now. “You know…you’re fuckin’ with the balance here, Bay. And you got the tier boys of the Forsaken Crew always seeming to want to accommodate you.”

“I’m not asking for it,” I force from my lips, fighting back the coil in my stomach from how Torin just expertly and purposely dropped his touch to my pelvis.

“Not at all.” Torin flicks his focus to Reeve. “She’d no sooner ask for our help than she’d rather cut her arm off, wouldn’t she, Reeve?”

“Unfortunately,” he replies, giving me a little tug in his direction as he still holds on to my— Levi’s —jacket. “Damn, girl, would you of rather drowned?”

“Miss, your drinks.” I glimpse over my shoulder at the bartender, dressed to the nines, as he slides over my whiskey sour and Ramsey’s bourbon. I did promise—sorta—that we’d play some poker and empty out some wallets.

“Thanks.” I reach for both beverages and then promptly met with Torin’s fucking famous glower again. “What?”

“What did I tell you about staying away from my brother.” His sharp jaw flinches, trying his best to keep probably the next words from seeping out.

“I’m gambling. I’m not going to go sleep with him. He’s my…brother.” Torin’s brow pops, for obvious reasons. It never stopped me before. “And I’m losing money right now by standing here, so if you’ll excuse?—”

“Stanton.” The authoritative octave of Emilio Wildes fills my ears, flanking my right and I’m immediately on guard for Reeve. “Didn’t I tell you to stay away the hell away from my daughter?”

“Good thing I did, Wildes,” Reeve sneers through his teeth, revolving to face him, and I notice him keeping his arm in front of me for protection. “Because, if I hadn’t, your boys would’ve gang raped her.”

“So you decided to.” He raises a ringed hand, a gold band wrapped around his middle finger and his expression is murderous. “I’m sorry, you faked it.”

Movement in my peripheral gains my attention, and we’re surrounded by at least six guys, all wrapped in half-ass suit and ties.

And what I mean by half-ass is that their white dress shirts are half tucked in and hanging out of their black dress pants. Each one sending over that fuck with us and find out vibe and it’s a perfect reminder that I’m alone here.

“Don’t get your panties in a bunch, Daddy Wildes,” Reeve mouths off without a fuck given. “Be grateful that I didn’t take what I already wanted by force.”

A vein ticks in Emilio’s temple and I inconspicuously touch Reeve’s lower back to chill. I don’t like the way Emilio is observing Reeve like he’s creating a plan to get even.

“I’m fine,” I emit, gaining Emilio’s immediate attention. “No harm, no foul. I’m standing next to him, aren’t I?”

“I expect more respect coming from the boys who are supposed to be overtaking my muscle to The Landings. Especially for my fucking daughter.”

Okay…so he’s mad mad.

“It was him against several men,” I retort. “ Your men. He would’ve been overthrown easily. Be grateful that it wasn’t worse.”

Emilio doesn’t ease up on his ragey expression. “I’ve told you over a handful of times to stay out of The Landings with drugs and you show up with a whole goddamn ice cream truck filled. Don’t preach to me what you think I should or shouldn’t do. Why the hell I had this idiot”—he gestures to Reeve—“babysit them is beyond me because you fed them right into South Shore’s hands.”

Wait, what?

I meet Torin’s gaze, but he doesn’t give me a thing other than what I may have already conjured in my head.

They blamed the shootings on South Shore.

“I’ll take full responsibility of my actions,” I retort. “But you need to get better men who aren’t so fucking sex-deprived that they’ll take the first female they see. They should’ve been focused on the weed, not me.”

Torin flanks my other side, brushing against my arm. “Not here. We don’t argue in public, and I’m sure you don’t want your buddies watching you fight with your daughter who you haven’t broadcasted to anyone.”

“It’s for her protection.” Emilio flicks his matching blue eyes to me. “And the situation has been rectified.”

By the men standing by my side.

“Come find me before you leave,” he orders with undeniable authority to his tone. “I’ll make sure you get home safe.”

Don’t need it, but okay.

“Sure.” My one-word answer gets him to stride away with his entourage, but they make sure to give Reeve and Torin one last standing glare before fucking off.

I almost want to tell him to take me because the room just heated up to a thousand degrees, and I’m getting third-degree burns from the glares pointed in my direction.

“My God, Torin,” I practically whine. “Now, what?”

“Since when are we playing nice with Pops?” Torin grinds out, nostrils flaring in and out like an angry blowfish. “Is there a magic number for that shit? I don’t want you anywhere near him.”

“Relax, Pretty Boy. I’m just here for the money and to shut him up.” Reeve’s palm seizes my hip, and I gasp from the sudden movement.

“What are you doing, Bay?”

Whoa, he’s going to start now, too?

I scoff, feeling very cornered and very not in the mood. “Great, so now you’re both going to tag-team me? Hard pass.”

“No”—Reeve rocks his head back and forth—“I’m talking about Ramsey. Didn’t Wildes over here tell you the dude is straight up deranged?”

“I don’t go into any dark rooms with him,” I counter evenly. “And I know better.”

“You don’t know shit,” Torin returns sharply. “I’m not looking to get another fucking phone call stating that you’re about to get hurt or that something’s happened to you.” He abruptly steps into my personal bubble again, and I steel my spine against his towering frame. “You think Emilio’s bad? He’s a purring kitten compared to my brother. Do I need to fuck it into your head? Because you’re pretty compliant when my dick is inside you.”

“Make it’s so you shut the fuck up,” I clip back. “Have either of you ever thought that I’m not so stupid as to not know that? I have a family that relies on me. I’m not going to delve into some dumb-ass shit?—”

“Like runnin’ dope through The Landings?”

“Or stealing Emilio’s guns,” Reeve tacks on.

I take a step back from both of their parental advice. “Okay, I have done some silly, stupid things, but that was for money. You know shit you guys don’t really need.”

“You obviously don’t know shit of what we need,” Torin exposes through clenched brows. “I think I’ve made myself pretty clear. Haven’t you, Reeve?”

“More than enough.”

I ping-pong my glare between the two idiots standing before me. “We’re not doing this. I’m not choosing between?—”

“You weren’t interested in me on the yacht?” Reeve retorts, perking a brow and challenging me to deny that I was.

“Yeah, I’m not happy about that,” Torin leers. “I thought I offered you the opportunity to come find me if you needed to get off and you go off looking for it elsewhere.”

Geezus Christ.

“To someone who’s wanted her since day fucking one,” Reeve rebukes without shame and, call me an idiot, but he’s not making it any better, “I’ve wanted her ass from the get.”

“You forget that I’ve known her longer than you. And if anyone is taking her ass?—”

“Excuse the both of you, ” I chide, crossing my arms along my chest, earning both of their heavy gazes to my breast. “You can talk about this when I’m not around. And, even then, it’s a pipe dream.”

Torin smirks confidently. “We both know how to lay down pipe, baby.”

Rolling my eyes, I look toward the ceiling and begging for patience. I should be thrilled, though. The roles that Levi and I have laid out have been working.

It’s just the hanging out with Emilio part and Torin and Reeve acting like stupid asses that is going to be the challenge.

“I want you to come to my birthday party on Saturday.”

I glimpse over at Reeve and his random question. One that involves more time spent with them and getting deeper into their world. “I can’t.”

“Why not?” He doesn’t appear a bit surprised by my answer and less deterred by it.

“I got my…” My sisters and dad. “I got a lot of things going on this weekend.”

Reeve wipes out all the space between us and he’s back, right in front of me with that mellowed-out persona and surfer boy attitude. “I want you there, McQueen. It’s the only thing I want for my birthday.” His tone dips, that delicious come hither timbre running down my body and coaxing the answer he desires. “Come by later, then.”

“It’s at the beach,” Torin adds in, assisting with his maddening idea. It corkscrews my stomach that Levi’s prediction is coming true. That these boys are going to either be drawn to me for the right reasons or the wrong. “Mutual territory in Wharf Bay.”

“Wharf Bay is not mutual territory,” I retort huskily, swallowing down the lump in my throat. “Your boy runs that.”

“My boy won’t do anything to you.”

“Your boy hates me.” Even threatened to kill me one day, which was what every girl wants to hear in the dark. I steer my gaze to Torin. “And so do you, Pretty Boy.”

“I hate that you want us to believe you’re wanting a relationship with Emilio. And I despise the fact that you won’t grant the man in front of you his birthday wish.”

“He’ll live.”

“It’ll be the worst birthday of my life,” Reeve claims, running his fingers down my arm. “Think about it, huh?”

My brows knit at him, but it’s futile. It’s a waste, because I can’t seem to fully put a lot of conviction behind keep Reeve at arm’s length. “I already have enough problems. If Levi keeps seeing me with you guys…I hear he has some sort of hit on me.”

“That’s never going to happen,” Reeve retorts confidently. “We’ll make sure you stay safe.”

“You going to line a bunch of men out in my front yard? Because that’s what it’s going to have to be.”

“If that’s what it takes.”

I tsk, because if Levi wasn’t on my side, he’d mow them down for being in South Shore alone. “You’re just asking for trouble now.”

“I invented trouble, Bay Bay. Come and see.”

“Bay.” My name is called out in a harsh twist of disapproval as I feel Ramsey approach us, borderline cuddled up in the middle of this ritzy party. “I should’ve known you’d get ambushed. My brother can’t seem to live outside his own head and decides to use his weak threats to bid you off.”

“Ramsey, don’t you have a dick to go suck or something?” Torin challenges, not sparing him a glance over his shoulder as Ramsey stands behind the two of them.

“You trying to give me relationship advice?” Ramsey rebukes. “If I listened to you, she’d be driving home drunk and dead by the end of the night.”

Torin’s eyes flare before wiping away any evidence of being annoyed. “I’d say that was pretty rich compared to how you stabbed your last boyfriend, Rams.”

His brother grabs him by the back of the shirt and leans in over his shoulder to whisper in his ear. I obviously can’t hear a word he’s saying, but the look on Torin’s face reveals how much he wants to kill him.

Reeve’s fingers lace with mine, and he grips them hard, keeping it behind him so that Ramsey doesn’t see. However, it doesn’t stop Ramsey’s dark eyes from slicing over to him. “I should beat your fuckin’ ass for what you did to her. You sick prick. You’ll just fuck anything, won’t you? Even your own?—”

“ Enough ,” Torin orders, getting into his brother’s face. “Take heed of what he said. One mark, Ramsey…just one .”

“I don’t need to. She’s safe with me. She doesn’t have to worry about one of you playing her to get what you want.”

And there…he just confirmed what I feared all along. Not that I think Torin and Ramsey shoot the shit on their plans, but that he can sense it.

Or he’s trying to detach me from them and take away my security blanket.

“Come with me, McQueen,” Reeve mutters, almost pleadingly. “Or I’m coming with you, so pick.”

“Ramsey, you want to win some more money?” My stepbrother’s face lifts at my change of subject and vibe. “The boys wanna play. And I’m looking to make a dent tonight.”

His mouth curves at my so-called diabolical plan. “I’d say that’d be enjoyable.” He glances at Reeve. “Then you can for real rape this prick for his shit.”

Geezus.

I gesture for him to take the lead as Reeve’s palm falls to the small of my back, and I’m jerking on Torin’s shirt to follow so he can see for himself what my goals are for the evening.

We’re back at our poker table within a moment, and the men immediately notice the two Forsaken fuckers behind me, pulling in two additional seats to where Reeve doesn’t take his.

Instead, he takes the one next to Ramsey and pulls me in his lap, his hard cock already protruding and brushing against my upper thigh and this boy.

This boy wants to wreck me.

“Deal in, Miss Astor?” The stout middle-aged man who’s been playing dealer since landing at this table asks me.

“Please.” Torin’s hand lands openly on my thigh and gains almost every pair of eyes for only the briefest of seconds.

It’s a power move.

But it’s also protective action. One that proclaims he’s here with me and there isn’t going to be anything but respect handed my way.

Maybe it’ll help me with the cheater across the way.

“Guy in the maroon suit repeatedly blinks when he has shit,” Ramsey whispers at my side, ignoring the fact that I’m in Reeve’s lap. At least he doesn’t openly give me shit no matter his opinion of the man underneath me. “Stanton, are you trying to make her more uncomfortable, or do you want me to stab you underneath this table?”

Or not.

“You’re not my type,” Reeve deadpans, and I turn my head to hide my smile. Only to be met with Torin’s placid expression. I give him a wink, which gets a soft brush of his thumb across my skin.

I’m not worried about Ramsey harming me.

It’s Torin who poses the most danger, because he’s already dug flesh deep and is only going deeper.