The Sinners - Ruby Vincent Page 0,36

anything. This won’t hurt me, but it might hurt you. Eli’s harder to get to now. He’s not going anywhere alone. You, on the other hand, have a lot of people willing to look the other way if masked guys run up on you. That’s not fucking happening while I run this school.”

I guided him flat on the mattress and sat on his lap, grinning as he immediately grasped my waist and rocked me on his middle.

“Thank you,” I said. “If it comes to that, I will pay you back.”

This wasn’t the time for pride. Eli was harder to get to but that didn’t mean the bastards wouldn’t try. Mr. Johnston didn’t follow my brother into the bathroom or locker room. And if they busted into his dorm, Tatum was as much protection as a short, thin, fourteen-year-old boy could be. While there was even the slightest chance that they could hurt my brother, I wasn’t turning down offers of help.

“The Thanksgiving dinner,” I ventured. “Why does it have to be then?”

“Those parties are Christmas for a car thief, princess. On a normal day, their cars are locked up behind gates, security systems, guards, and garages. It’s a whole different skill set breaking onto property. A different crime too.

“Nah, I want them driving those cars off the driveway themselves, parking them in a darkened lot watched over by one bored valet, and then leaving it alone for hours while they get wasted.”

“Huh.” Hearing him say it, his reasons made perfect sense. So perfect I had to think it’d cross a few other minds to sling their shot as well.

Royal hardened under me. I wasn’t sure if he was turned on from the car-stealing talk or his practically screwing me through my clothes. Possibly both.

“I see what you’re saying, but if you do this regularly, why haven’t they noticed their cars go missing during these parties.”

“I mix it up for that reason. I’ll hit a party maybe once or twice a year.” He tapped my chin. “That’s why it took so long for us to meet.”

“Lucky for me you picked that party.”

He grinned. “Lucky for me too.”

I rolled my eyes, but in a way that was so damned fond I should’ve skipped to kissing him.

“They have upped security,” he admitted. “But I’ve got ways around it. So, you in? Same deal as before. You do most of the work, you get the pay.”

A noticeably harder thrust pushed a moan from my lips. Royal was waiting for my yes, so we could move on to the other part of the evening.

Am I honestly doing this? Is this who I am now? A car thief?

You’re protecting Eli, another voice countered. You don’t do this because you want to. You haven’t touched the money from Caesar other than paying the blackmailer. This is about nothing more than surviving an impossible situation.

Sighing, I squeezed my eyes shut, holding my breath. There were real people involved. People who’d leave the party and suddenly find themselves the victims of what I’d done.

“I can’t do this for weeks, months, years,” I said. “I have to find the person or people coming after me and shut them down.”

“We will. They’re going to slip up, make a mistake, and the Angels will be there when they do.”

Royal got under my blazer and got it off in one smooth move.

“I’m supposed to hang with Camila this afternoon,” I said while undoing my buttons. “And then I’m with Clay tonight. I can’t stay.”

“We got plans this week, princess. Don’t think I’ll make it easy for you to get out of this bed.”

“Roy— Ah!”

He flipped me on my back and set to work.

The guy most certainly did not make it easy. He flung his clock across the room, literally tied me to the bed, and said I couldn’t leave until I asked nicely. I was very much not nice through multiple orgasms. When I finally stumbled to my room, I was surprised to see it was pushing seven o’clock.

“Sorry it took so long,” I said to Camila. She was sitting up in bed with dinner on her lap and a computer resting on her calves. I guessed she got through a few movies already. “I’ll hop in the shower and then I’m all yours.”

“Okay. Are you feeling Matthew McConaughey or Adam Sandler?” she called after me.

I cracked the bathroom door, speaking to her as I undressed. “Adam Sandler? Which movie?”

“50 First Dates. It’s my go-to feeling-crappy movie. Don’t judge me.”

I laughed. “How can