at the table and back to me. “We’re dropping off some product and then we’ll be out—”
“What’s left of it.” Harrison dissolves into a fit of laughter.
Drake aims a glare at him that shuts him right up.
“Hold on.” My blood runs cold and my heart pounds heavy in my chest. “So you’re dipping into the product you’re here to deliver?”
“Shoulda’ kept your mouth shut.” Jayden shakes his head at his brother.
I lean into my brother. “Do you have a death wish? You think whoever you’re dealing to is going to be okay with you using his shit?”
“Why the hell do you care? It’s not like dude’s gonna show up with a scale!”
“I care because the last thing I need is to call Mom and tell her your ass got dead over . . . You know what? Forget it. I’m fuckin’ outta here.” I push to stand, but Drake grips my forearm.
“Run away, college boy.” His eyes are glossed over, wired and wide, his mouth curves into an unfriendly smirk. “Jess was right. You’re a fucking pussy. No wonder she swallowed my dick instead of yours.”
My head gets light. Vision blurs. Rage spikes through my veins at the mention of Jessica combined with the worry I have for my brother. How could he be so stupid? The people his dad runs with are hardened criminals, mafia, gangs, the worst of the worst. The kind of men who make people disappear, or worse, make them unrecognizable.
I push up from my seat and move away with staggered steps, hate and remorse battling away in my chest. My feet carry me through the crowd of bodies. Where? I don’t know, just . . . away. I push through people, shoving everyone who blocks my path.
“Watch it, asshole!”
I ignore the voices and search for the bathroom, somewhere to splash cold water on my face and calm my shit down. There’s a hallway, dark but lit with neon. Possibly the restrooms or, even better, a back exit I can get the hell out and into some fresh air.
My legs carry me back, but my head is stuck on the dilemma of how in the hell to save my brother from himself. Why can’t he—Omph!
A tiny body goes flying and lands hard. “Ouch!”
That voice. Anger rockets to the surface. I reach down and grab her by her upper arms, lifting her off the ground harder than I intend, mostly because she weighs next to nothing.
I focus on her big eyes and parted lips. Her hair is pulled tight into a sleek long ponytail, and she tilts her head back to glare up at me.
“What is it with you?” I roar in her face. “Why the fuck can’t you keep yourself safe?”
Trix
“What? You ran into me, jerk!” I try to shrug out of his hold, but he takes two steps forward until my back presses against the wall.
My ass burns, pain slicing through my left cheek. Why is he looking at me like he wants to kill me . . . or eat me?
Whatever softer side of Mason I saw at the Community Youth Center is a memory. The dickhead is back.
He leans in, his eyes on my lips, his angered breath in bursts against them. Silence builds between us, along with something else. Something alive ripples between his chest and mine. His glare, piercing blue fire, lights beneath a wavy mess of blond hair. I’m sucked in, falling helplessly into the draw of his gaze.
Without warning, he pushes closer and buries his nose into my neck, breathing in deep and running it from my shoulder to my ear. My head tilts, unable to resist the gentle touch: so innocent and yet heavy with promise of something more.
“Mmm, what is it about you?” The rumble of his deep voice races goose bumps down my arms. “You smell like heaven.”
No, I don’t want this. Not when he’s mad. His hands glide down my arms to my hips, and his long powerful fingers clench my flesh. My eyes fall shut on a moan.
I’m like clay, molding to his will, helpless in a way I can’t explain, but the power of his body and the sense that he’s hanging onto the last string of his control are a heady combination. His lips join in the exploration of my neck, not wet, just soft sweeps against my shoulder.
“Mason . . . wha—what are you doing?” I don’t want him to stop, but this isn’t right. Just seconds ago he looked like