Sinners' Playground (The Harlequin Crew #1) - Caroline Peckham Page 0,64

it. That was why I never bothered to quit smoking. Fox was all about healthy fucking living. But what good was that in the lives we led? I wasn't going out of this world because of the tar in my lungs. No chance. One day, a bullet would get too near to my heart or a knife would cut too deep and that would be that. I didn't plan on wasting the life I did have in the meantime. That was why, when we weren't working a job, I spent my time fucking, smoking, drinking and just fucking living. If it brought me pleasure, I made a goddamn habit out of it. And if it didn't, I made sure I had nothing to do with it.

JJ understood that better than Fox. Though the difference between me and him was that he was an optimist who read mommy porn in his free time and always had so many hopeful, sunshine soaked plans for the future. Fox had stopped making plans beyond the next few weeks the moment Rogue had left our lives. He used to be so...full. Now he was like a half drunk can of soda with all the fizz let out of it. I'd tried my best to heal that wound in him when Rogue had left. But I'd had my own wounds to lick, and in the end, we'd all just found the best way to deal with our scars was to stop talking about them. About her.

Someone moved the lounger to my left and a soft body dropped onto it. I tipped my hat up, peeking over at the company I hadn't asked for.

Rogue lay with her long legs stretched out and a beer in her hand. I could hardly see the bruises on her face in the dark out here, but as I dragged on my cigarette, the cherry lit them up, making anger burn hot and potent in my chest. Why wouldn't she give us a name? It’d been a whole week and she still wouldn’t give us a damn thing. I'd tie the guy to the back of my bike and drag him through the streets of Sunset Cove in payment for this. But I had no way of finding out who was responsible without her input. Besides, why should I care anyway? She wasn't my friend anymore. She wasn't my anything anymore. Still, I'd killed assholes for less than this without knowing the ones they’d hurt. I liked playing karma. All I needed was a good reason to strike and I was the scariest motherfucker in the room.

"You picked the wrong Harlequin to bother, ghost," I muttered, letting my hat drop back over my eyes.

"I'm not here for you." A clicking noise sounded as she turned on the outdoor heater and warmth blazed from the fire at the top of it.

"If you're cold, why'd you come outside?" I growled.

"Well I didn't see you lurking like a fucking shadow out here," she said.

I sat up, leaning close to her and pushing the butt of my cigarette into her beer, making it hiss as it went out. Her lips parted indignantly as I stood up and glared down at her. "Why don't you take your dog and your flowery rainbow hair and get the fuck out of our house? Go back to wherever you came from, ghost."

"This is where I came from, asshole," she said coolly and my gaze travelled down to the key hanging around her neck on a leather necklace. I'd clocked it the second she'd arrived here. That key was one of five and all of them held a ticket to something we'd long given up on getting our hands on ever again.

"Is that why you're here?" I asked suspiciously, pointing out the key. "You wanna try your luck and steal the rest of the keys?"

She stroked her thumb over it, shrugging one shoulder. "I don't know what you're talking about, this is my grandmomma’s key."

"Drop the shit," I hissed. The girl didn’t even have a grandmomma.

She got to her feet, casual as fuck as she pulled her top off and dropped her shorts so she was standing in front of me in her skimpy pink bikini, making my cock harden just like that.

Fuck me. That body.

She was tanned all over her toned flesh and I wanted to pull at the strings of her bikini bottoms to check if that trend continued. And if it did, that meant she liked to sunbathe