Fraud (Antihero Inferno #2) - Lily White Page 0,16
I’d enjoyed her spitfire attitude when she was younger. I prefer a woman who bites back.
“...he’ll kick me out of my house and never help me again.”
Pathetic.
Absolutely. Fucking. Pathetic.
She’s the Raging Bitch Formally Known as Ivy, and this replacement sitting in front of me is nothing more than a cheap imitation.
Honestly, if it were anybody else, I would open the car door, jump out at forty miles per hour or however fast we’re going and take my chances with the cement rather than endure any more of this conversation.
Still, I have a job to do.
And a score to settle.
So here we are.
Our bodies scoot closer again as the car veers into a parking lot. It sucks that the seatbelt keeps me from getting too close for Ivy’s comfort, but it’s not the end of the world.
Thankfully, the car pulls to a stop just outside the doors, the car door next to me opening so fast that I briefly wonder if Scott actually walks like a human being or simply warps himself from one point to another like a cyborg.
Our eyes lock, his with the promise to murder me and mine with the dare that he fucking try it. I can’t be entirely sure, but I think I hear Ivy laughing softly behind me.
No wonder her life for the past ten years has been led according to the Etiquette Handbook for the Modern and Trendy Nun. This son of a bitch means business.
It makes him a bigger problem than I initially thought and one I can’t ignore. He’ll have to be dealt with.
Unbuckling my seatbelt without ending the stare down I’m having with the Terminator, apparently, I flash him a wicked grin and ask, “Are you going to let me out, or are you planning on climbing in with us? I wasn’t expecting a threesome tonight, but arrangements can be made if you’re into that.”
His eyes narrow and nostrils flare just as Ivy sighs at my back. “Scott, it’s fine. Gabriel is never serious about anything.”
I’m serious about destroying this girl, and by the looks of her babysitter, he knows it.
He definitely needs to be dealt with. Scott elevates the term cockblock to an entirely new level. Not just the type that prevents me from scoring, but the kind that will literally rip my dick from my body for even thinking about trying.
I wouldn’t be surprised if Ivy is wearing a state-of-the-art chastity belt with an alarm wired directly to this man’s head every time someone so much as breathes in her direction.
Needless to say, I don’t like him. And judging by the way he is still assessing me with the very real threat of the slow death I’d imagined earlier, he doesn’t like me either.
At least we can agree on that.
“Scott,” Ivy warns, “we can’t go inside and eat if you’re blocking the door.”
His eyes slide past me to look at her, his body eventually moving aside to let us out.
Cautious, I slowly step out of the car and push to my full height next to him. It would definitely be a fair fight, our size easily matching, although I have a feeling this man leans more on the psycho serial killer side of the bad attitude spectrum.
While I’m not exactly innocent of ruining lives, this man seems the type to chop up a person’s body before deciding which part to keep as a lovely souvenir.
It takes effort to break the stare down and turn to offer Ivy a hand as she steps out of the car. The instant our skin touches, I feel the usual spark up my arm that happens with her.
It’s disturbing, that feeling, only because my body is revolting against the sovereignty of my thoughts.
I shouldn’t want her.
Not after what’s happened between us.
And especially not with everything I plan to do to her.
Still, it’s undeniable. We’ve always had the annoying ability to attract, even when we were doing everything in our power to wreck each other’s worlds.
Stepping away from the car, I glance back at her babysitter and notice he’s still watching our every move.
Leaning down, I whisper against Ivy’s ear.
“You really should get a muzzle for your guard dog. I’d hate to see you get fined when he breaks his leash and bites someone.”
She laughs, her hair brushing against my face, the scent of her shampoo seducing me as a man moves to open the front door for us.
“He’s not that bad,” she says as we approach the hostess stand.