his tone whenever he’s feeling snappy.
I shrug, unaffected. I’m well-conditioned with handling Brantley Vitiosis, no matter how much time has passed between us seeing each other. “Yes. I take them for at least an hour so it burns them, and me, out good.”
He pauses and clears his throat. “Go take a shower and be ready in thirty minutes.”
“Who me?” I ask, looking between him and Bishop.
Brantley glares at me.
“Okay,” I say, sidestepping away from him and heading up the stairs, as commanded.
They dragged me through the forest, using the lead on the collar. I didn’t want to play anything anymore, and the more the night went on, the more I realized just how much shit I might be in. These boys didn’t mess around; they’re dangerous. I’d never felt scared for my life, but with every passing minute, I lost hope of being set free.
We moved farther and farther in until I was pushed through a clearing. There was a small waterhole in the middle, with chairs scattered around, a small tiki bar and other party items. They obviously used this area for parties, not sure why not tonight. Maybe because they planned this whole thing. They knew who I was from the start.
Brantley pushed me down until my knees dug into the sand, scarring my knees. “We’re going to play a game.” He leaned forward. “You lose, you die. You win? Well…” His eyes flew up to Bishop who was behind me. The full moon hung brightly behind us, casting shadows over Brantley’s face. “Well, I’m afraid you’re probably still going to die.” He paused again, leaning forward until he was close to my face. “Do you know who we are, or furthermore, who I am?”
I shook my head. “I don’t! Am I supposed to?”
Brantley grinned, flashing his straight teeth and dimple. “Wrong answer.”
Brantley
“Do you always have to snap at her like that, you grumpy fucking bastard,” Bishop growls, making his way into the kitchen and pulling down a bottle of whiskey from one of the many alcohol cabinets.
“Madison pushed you to drinking before nine a.m. now?” I reach forward and take the bottle from his fingers.
He squeezes the marble countertop while his head hangs between his shoulders. It’s a brief moment, before he stands to his full height and stares right at me. “It doesn’t matter.”
I put the bottle back into the cupboard and open one of the drawers, pulling out a padlock. “This shit is locked until five p.m.”
“How do you not drink?” Bishop asks, running his fingers through his hair. “You out of all of us…”
I lean on the counter, finally pulling my shirt on. I know why he’s saying this, but I don’t know why he’s bringing it up right now. “Why? Because of everything I’ve been through?” I roll my eyes at the cliché way of how someone should heal if they’ve been through trauma. Not everyone turns to alcohol and drugs. Some need something worse…
Bishop narrows his eyes at me. “Yes, you fuck. Because no one except me knows even half of what you have been through.”
I shrug. “Demons make good pets.”
Bishop shakes his head slowly before finally changing the subject. “What do you make of everything Hector went over with us last night?”
“It is what it is. I mean, remember the legends we were told around the bonfires?”
“Yeah.” Bishop stares. “But now they’re coming back, and they’re coming back the year I take the gavel.”
I lick my lips. “Doesn’t matter.”
“How does it not matter? We’ve got REU reopening, as well as Riverside Prep moving back to the old building, that’s going to set shit off. I won’t be surprised if a war erupts, and aside from that, we still have to fly back to Perdita to check on Nate’s little fuck toy to make sure she’s doing things right.”
I blink slowly, my mouth falling open. “A few things, one, I wouldn’t call her his fuck toy around Tillie, unless you wanna be chopped liver, and two, good. Let them come. Bring a motherfucking war.”
“You freaky fuck, not all of us like the taste of blood.”
I separate my index finger and middle finger and bring my hand to my lips, licking the middle. “Don’t knock it before you try it.”
Bishop shakes his head. “Sick bastard. And to think—”
“How fucking long has she been up there for?” I stomp across the kitchen toward the wide-opened staircase. “Saint! Hurry the fuck up!”
She walks down the right wing of stairs, coming to the middle and staring