Damaged (Boys of Winter #2) - Sheridan Anne Page 0,112
meet his stare, letting my smugness shine through. “Point proven,” I tell him, before stepping right in between Grayson and Carver and turning to face the entrance of the big room.
The guys all turn with me, and in that one movement, we form an impenetrable line of intimidation. Like clockwork, the front door barges open and we listen as Preston storms through Carver’s home as though he has every right to be here.
He reaches the living room in no time.
Preston comes to an immediate stop, his eyes slightly widening at the sight of us all waiting for him, but he quickly rights himself, acting as though the five of us watching him like a hawk who knows his darkest secret isn’t scaring the shit out of him.
His eyes slice right to mine, his jaw clenching as the fury bubbles through him. “What did you do to my son?” he roars, racing toward me.
He gets just a step away when Carver’s arm shoots up, slamming against his shoulder and jerking him to a violent stop, keeping me just out of reach. “Close enough,” Carver rumbles, the deep tone of his voice sailing straight through me.
I hold Preston’s stare. “The whereabouts of your son seems like a you problem. I’m not sure if you’ve noticed this or not, but your son is a dick. I don’t exactly spend all my free time worrying about where he is at all hours of the day. So, thanks for this little visit, but perhaps you will have better luck checking in with the people who actually consider him a friend.”
“Don’t you speak of my son like that, you rotten girl,” he spits, his eyes narrowing in anger. “Who do you think I am? You cannot fool me like that. I know you were at that party last night.”
“What party?” I ask, slightly stepping closer to Preston and holding back a laugh as each of the guys flinch and somehow manage to find the self-control to not pull me back. “I was out with King last night getting a rescue dog.”
As if realizing that I’m talking about her, Lady Dante barks from deep within the living room and the corner of my mouth kicks up into a smile. I’ll have to get that doggy a treat; her timing is impeccable.
Doubt flickers through Preston’s gaze, but it’s gone in his next blink. “Who are you trying to play?” he demands, his gaze shifting up and down the line of men at my back. “I know you were at that party. Jacob called me and specifically said you were there.”
“Checkmate, motherfucker,” Grayson grunts, a soft laugh in his tone.
I glance back at him as a smile pulls at his lips. His eyes sparkle at the knowledge of being right, and I realize that this is exactly the moment he was talking about. Preston’s emotions have gotten the best of him, and just like that, he’s admitted to being the person on the other end of Jacob’s call, a call that he stupidly assumed we knew nothing about.
“Excuse me?” Preston roars, his glare sinking into Grayson like volcanic lava hitting ice. “I am the head of the Scardoni family. You have absolutely no right to speak to me like that. What would your father say?”
Grayson just laughs. “My father won’t say a goddamn thing when he realizes that you just implicated yourself as the person who’s been orchestrating the attacks on our leader, the woman you vowed to follow.”
Preston roars. “I did no such thing. Where the hell do you get off making such horrendous accusations?”
“You know what?” I say, stepping even closer, a grin pulling at my lips. “I think I remember that party now. It was crazy. I was fucking around with Carver, you know, getting under his skin and all, and then I was literally fucking around with King and Cruz out in the bushes behind the property. But the strangest thing happened.”
I pause, watching as confusion and dread instantly take over his features.
“You know, I think I did see Jacob last night after all. I was trying to get my rocks off, but we were interrupted by someone. I was pissed because who doesn’t want to be fucked by two dudes up against a tree in the bushes, you know what I mean? Though, something tells me you’re not the kind of guy to have ever been so lucky, which honestly is a real shame.”
“Get. On. With. It,” he demands. “Where is my son?”