The Promise (Wolfe Creek Duet #2)

18

THEA

I slam into the door, the one below the bright red EXIT sign. The sound of the chainsaw is thunderous behind me. The man came out of nowhere, wearing a skin-like mask and a bloodstained butcher’s apron.

The chilly night air hits my skin. I’m out. I push my back up against the door, as if that’s going to keep the man inside. Looking around, I see Damian, Wes, Sutton, and Adrian staring at me, amused.

“Fuck all of you,” I grumble, only relaxing when the chainsaw wielding man doesn’t try to open the door after a minute.

Damian comes forward. “Oh, c’mon, princess. You lucked out. You didn’t get the full experience.” What’s that supposed to mean? His fingers grip my chin, forcing me to look him in the eyes. “It was fun though, wasn’t it?” He’s insufferable, getting me all worked up just to do nothing about it. He’ll get what’s coming to him.

“Are we going home or what?” I pull away from him.

Wes grins widely. “Oh no, tonight’s not even close to being over.”

Adrian and I groan simultaneously, then glare at each other for it.

Wes ushers us back to Damian’s car. Once inside, he types in an address on the navigation system. I’m between Adrian and Sutton in the back seat again. This time I lean more into Sutton—at least he gave me some relief tonight.

In his hand, I spot a silver flask. I don’t ask, I just grab it and pour the liquid down my throat.

“Hey!”

I smile around the burn in my throat, then kiss him. His outrage melts as my lips move against his. My body’s still charged from Damian’s teasing—I have the perfect way to get my revenge.

We’re flying down the highway when I unbuckle my seatbelt. Even with the music thumping around us, they all hear the distinct sound. I catch Damian’s gaze in the rearview, a look of warning to not do whatever it is that I’m planning. I raise my brows in challenge and then throw my leg over Sutton’s lap.

Glancing over my shoulder, I catch Wes’ astonishment and dare I say, jealousy. Should’ve been quicker, I think to myself. Damian looks pissed in the mirror. As I’m turning my attention back to Sutton, I catch the look on Adrian’s face. His mouth is parted and his brows furrowed in confusion or maybe surprise. He has no idea who I am or what I’m capable of. The thought makes me smirk and that shocks him even more.

I spend the rest of the drive grinding against Sutton to the beat of the music. I run my hands over his hair, bite at his lips and lick over his piercings, kiss his neck, and whisper the dirtiest things in his ear.

I pay no attention to the other guys in the car—I give it all to him. His groans and curses rile up Damian and Wes. They don’t say anything, but I can feel the tension in the air as it thickens. I can tell by the way Damian whips the car around and accelerates impatiently. I hear it in the way Wes shifts in his seat and can feel his eyes on me every so often. All of it eases the annoyance of their teasing in the haunted house—a little.

The car comes to a rough stop as I’m giggling against Sutton’s mouth. The liquor’s made me a little tipsy. Before I can register what’s happening, the back door is opening and I’m being yanked out by Damian.

He pushes me up against the car, giving me a serious and hard stare. Those icy eyes might normally sway me into seriousness. Instead, I double over laughing. Between gasps I taunt, “Awww, is wittle Damian wamian upset with me?” I’m being childish, the logical part of me knows that, but I can’t stop myself. I straighten, then boop him on the nose.

Sutton joins in my laughter.

“Maybe we should go home,” Damian suggests, looking over at Wes, who’s standing on the opposite side of the car.

I look back and see Wes shrug. “I don’t know, I kinda like goofy Thea.” He beams wide. I meet Damian’s gaze—he rolls his eyes and takes a step back.

“Fine. One hour.”

“Can I wait in the car?” Adrian asks, annoyed. I hope he says yes. I’m feeling good and I don’t want him to dampen my mood.

“No. If I have to babysit, so do you,” Damian grumbles before walking across the parking lot.

ADRIAN

It’s so goddamn loud in here and the flashing lights are making my head hurt. There’s too many people. Everyone’s drunk and sweaty—they bump into me and I push them away. My brothers and I, dressed in normal clothes, stand out against the ridiculous costumes everyone else is wearing.

One hour is going to feel like eternity. My fingers brush against the cigarette perched behind my ear. Wonder if I can sneak off for a smoke?

We follow Wes. The crowd parts for him, but closes almost immediately, making it difficult to keep up. I’m only an inch or so shorter than him and nearly as wide, so it must be his presence that makes people move out of the way. I don’t carry myself in the same way, preferring to go unnoticed.

He leads us to the bar and signals for the bartender to come over. A perky blonde woman in a barely there bikini top, black shorts, and cat ears leans over the counter. Wes whispers something in her ear. She nods and smiles, then waves over another woman.

We follow her through the crowd to the back of the club. There’s a line of private rooms, most are filled with people lounging, dancing, and taking shots. We’re shown to an empty room.

The woman unclips the rope. “I’ll get that bottle for you, Mr. Wolfe.” She smiles coyly, looking him up and down, before turning to leave.

“Make sure it’s the one I requested. Unopened.” She nods and hurries off.

“What was that about?” Damian asks.

Wes glances at Thea, then at D. “Just making sure it’s gluten-free so she can have it.”

“Wait,” Sutton chimes in, “alcohol can have gluten?”

What the fuck is going on? Are they going to ask if it’s vegan next? “Why does it matter?” I question casually.

My brothers look at me simultaneously, but it’s Wes that speaks. “Thea can’t have gluten. She has Celiac disease.”

I don’t know what that is, but I don’t really care to ask about it. What I take away from the conversation is that Havoc has a kryptonite. Interesting.

I look back at my brother, who’s barely noticed the woman’s flirting. Thea hasn’t missed it though. She’s staring daggers at the woman’s back. It makes me chuckle. I wonder if she has the balls to say anything to her when she comes back. Probably not.

The five of us take our seats and I wait for the drama to unfold as the woman heads back our way. She’s pushed up her tits some more. I turn to look at Thea, but Wes has his tongue down her throat. I’d write it off as him just being horny, although I have a feeling he clocked the woman’s intentions and this is his way of sending her the message that he’s taken. And possibly a way to keep Thea distracted.

He’s good.

I look away after a few seconds, but catch Damian staring at me. I roll my eyes, knowing what he’s thinking. He thinks I want her. I don’t. I mean… I’d fuck her, but I don’t want her. I meant it when I called her Havoc—she’s destruction and disorder. I need neither in my life.

Sutton starts pouring shots for all of us. I shouldn’t do it. I’m not sure why I don’t listen to myself. The liquid burns going down. I haven’t had a drink in ten years and I didn’t eat much before we left. It’s a bad combo.

I lean back, letting the alcohol settle over me. It’s not long before my muscles loosen and I’m laughing at something Sutton said. He and Thea are already drunk—they started earlier than us.

The song changes and Thea jumps up. “I love this one,” she yells. She’s the only one that seems to know it. I watch as she sways her hips and her arms lift over her head. She has all of our attention. I want to look away, but fuck… she knows how to move her body.

She takes it up a notch, placing a foot on the table at the center of our room, hoisting herself up.

“Thea…” Damian warns. She blows him a kiss, then seductively moves to the rhythm, dropping lower with each beat. Her long hair flows with her movements, her dress does too. There’s something hypnotizing about her. She locks eyes with Wes. He leans in for a kiss, but she pulls away and rises back up. Sutton’s the only one she lets touch her.

I watch my brother’s hands brush over her thighs. The sight of her ripped fishnets sends a jolt of heat through me. My hand clenches as I remember the feel of her ass and tits under my palms. I shift in my seat as images of me grinding against her assaults my memory. Jesus Christ.

“I’m going to get some water,” I announce, standing abruptly and walking toward the bar.

Pushing through the crowd, I make it back to the blonde bartender, trying to get her attention. Eventually, she takes my order. My eyes scan the crowd as I wait. Thea’s no longer on the table. In fact, I don’t see her in the booth at all.

That’s when I hear her voice. I hate that I recognize it. She’s a few feet away, at the bar, trying to get the attention of a bartender while some guy talks to her. Thea’s hardly paying attention to him, but he’s working hard to change that. I move closer to eavesdrop.

“…noticed you dancing over there. You’ve got some great moves.”

I cringe at his lazy compliment.

“Uh huh,” she aimlessly replies, not giving him anything to work with.

“How about I show you my moves?” I watch the man run a hand down her back. Just as he gets to her ass, I close the distance between us. In a quick motion, I lock his arm between both of mine, twist it, and bear my weight down on the bend of his elbow until I hear his shoulder pop. He screams and that finally draws Thea’s attention.

“Leave her the fuck alone,” I snarl into the man’s ear before letting him go.

He stumbles off, nursing his arm and glaring back at me. “Fucking psychopath,” he calls out, on the verge of tears. The crowd around us has backed away and they’re looking at me like I’m a monster.

Thea gets in my face. “What the hell was that?” she yells with her brows drawn close and rage in her eyes. “You can’t go around assaulting people. Are you trying to get thrown back in prison?”

“He put his hands on you. What was I supposed to do?”

I shouldn’t even care. She’s not my girlfriend, although Damian might’ve been pissed if I didn’t do anything.

She huffs and the press of her tits against my chest distracts me. Her bodysuit has slipped down a bit, probably from all of that dancing.

“You didn’t need to do anything. He was harmless,” she argues. Thea’s closeness and her vanilla scent bring up another memory, her begging me to fuck her in the haunted house. No, she was begging Damian to fuck her, not me. Still, I can’t help that my cock is throbbing because even though she didn’t know it was me, she wanted what I was giving her. At a base level, her body wanted me.

I grab the edges of her top and yank up. “He wasn’t harmless. My brothers would’ve done worse, so you’re welcome. Let’s go.” I hand her water as she protests that she wants to order a fruity drink and drag her back to the private room.

She spends the rest of the night piercing me with her eyes. Neither of us tells my brothers what happened. Destruction and disorder, just like I thought.