The Havoc We Wreak - Becca Steele Page 0,16
over my mouth in shock, clearing my throat to try and remove the sudden lump. “What? I wasn’t expecting this. Seriously, I can’t thank you guys enough.” Hopping down from my stool, I went around the island, hugging them all in turn, before returning to my seat.
“We thought it would be useful. I couldn’t stand seeing you use that old piece of junk you called a laptop anymore.” Weston grinned at me, then reeled off a list of specifications that flew over my head, but I appreciated the sentiment. So much. I still couldn’t believe they’d bought me such a generous gift.
The birthday surprises kept coming when I was picked up by Lena and Kinslee. Apparently, we were going to a spa—Kinslee’s gift to me, and she’d wanted Lena to come along. They’d hit it off at the New Year’s Eve party, and the three of us were having a great time hanging out together.
As we drove, we talked about the upcoming party and the plan to talk to James. “You know, he isn’t so bad,” Lena said, gripping the steering wheel lightly as she manoeuvred her car onto the main road. “I know we have a rivalry thing with him, but he’s been a good friend to me.”
“I didn’t realise you even knew him.” I stared at her profile.
She nodded. “Yeah. I had a…guy problem once, and he helped me out. We hang out sometimes, and he’s always been good to me.”
“What sort of problem?” Kinslee leaned forwards from the back seat, her voice full of concern. Were her thoughts going in the same direction as mine?
“It was when I was younger—fourteen. I had some hassle, nothing major, but there was one time where these guys cornered me, and let’s just say James was in the right place at the right time.” She briefly glanced over at me. “Honestly, it was nothing huge, but James was there for me.” A grin curved over her lips as she added, “No guy would mess with me, now. Ever since it happened, I’ve been honing my skills. I can handle whatever comes my way.”
“I’m glad to hear it. Just don’t take any unnecessary risks, okay?” She had an air of fearlessness about her, but I couldn’t help feeling like she could actually get into serious trouble if she wasn’t careful.
“I won’t. Oh, don’t tell my brother about any of it—about James helping me, or the fact we hang out sometimes. He doesn’t know.”
“More secrets,” I muttered.
“What was that?”
“Nothing. Why don’t you want to tell him?”
“He’s so overprotective. He’d probably make me wear a tracker or something, and check in with him every five minutes.”
“He’s not that extreme,” I laughed. “You know, though. It could work in James’ favour if you do say something, since we need to get him to come around to our way of thinking at the party. If the boys know that he’s helped you out, it might help his case with them.”
“Hmm…you might be right. I’ll think about it,” she murmured. “Anyway, enough about all that. No more talk of anything depressing. Let’s get all this girly stuff done, then we can go and do knife throwing.”
“Knife throwing?” I raised a brow.
“That’s one of the options on offer.”
It felt a bit strange pulling up at a knife throwing range after a morning of relaxing with a massage, manicure, pedicure, and soak in the hot tub with champagne. But here we were. A huge, modern warehouse-style building with “Skirmish” printed in huge block letters on a sign above the doors. Underneath there was a smaller sign detailing everything the place offered—knife throwing, archery, axe throwing, paintballing, shooting, and various corporate team-building events. We parked next to Cassius’ SUV and headed into the cool building to meet the boys.
They were standing by the reception desk talking to a tall figure that I recognised instantly. His head turned when he saw us, and his golden eyes glimmered with recognition. This time he wasn’t dressed down in a hoodie but had on a shirt and tie that made him look even more powerful and imposing than the first time I’d seen him. “Winter. We meet again.” He strode over to greet me, before he turned to Kinslee.
I watched, bemused, as Kinslee’s gaze lowered as he looked her over.
“I’m Credence Pope, but my friends call me Creed. And who might you be?” he purred, taking her hand.
She stood there mutely, and I nudged her elbow. I hadn’t ever seen her tongue-tied around anyone