Without even thinking, my fist rears back and slams hard against Sara’s face, my brass knuckles instantly leaving the perfect imprint across the side of her jaw.
She goes down like a sack of shit, her head rebounding against the marble tiles, and for a moment, all anyone can do is stare.
Silence follows and my eyes bug out of my head.
Well, shit.
“Someone tell me I didn’t kill her.”
CHAPTER 26
Ahh, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.
I stare down at the message of the two eggplant emojis and a donut that I just sent through to King and Cruz and the nerves instantly pulse through my body.
It’s been a long shitty day, and after confirming that Sara was in fact still alive and breathing, she was carted away in the back of an ambulance with a nasty concussion. I haven’t heard the last of that though. She’s bound to have a few things to say about me spontaneously knocking her out. Though if you asked me, I’d say she deserved it.
Who makes the effort to come all the way out to someone’s home, only to stand in their doorway and pick a fight? King was right. Sara is confused about what she wants and that pisses her off. She wanted a taste, just like Grayson and Carver do, but unlike them, the feeling isn’t mutual.
I watch the message, and the second it comes up saying that King has read it, the nerves instantly get worse. I don’t know why I’m being such a bitch about this. I’ve been with them both at the same time plenty of times, but I’ve never actually gone out of my way to ask for it. The opportunity has always just presented itself.
Yet here I am, sitting on my bed, all alone in this big house after a shitty few weeks, asking two of the best guys I know to come and rail me until I scream.
What girl wouldn’t want that? Besides, after the hell I’ve been through, I could use a night to forget about everything and just feel good.
The three little dots appear at the bottom of the screen, telling me that King is in the middle of responding, and as I watch them, the phone shows that Cruz has now seen the message too. “Fuck me,” I breathe before launching my phone right across the room.
I fly to my feet and instantly grab the plate on my bedside table. I move it across the room before scooping up a lone sock and throwing it toward my private bathroom.
What is it about sending a risqué text that makes people want to start doing chores?
After straightening the pillows on my bed, I scoop up last night’s pajamas and attempt to fold them. Giving up, I straighten the TV remote on my bedside table instead.
Ding.
Ding.
Ding.
Ding.
My head whips toward the phone that now resides in the corner of my room, and I freeze, not wanting to open it, but then if I don’t, how will I know if they’re coming?
Shit. I hate this, but at the same time, it’s the most thrilling thing I’ve ever experienced.
Ding.
Ding.
Fuck it.
I dive across the room and scoop my phone up, not bothering to race back to my bed before unlocking the screen and opening the message chain. A smile instantly tears across my face.
King - Fuck. Give me ten and I’ll be there.
Cruz - HELL YEAH!!!!!! I’m on my way.
King - Get fucked, bro. Don’t start without me.
Cruz - Snooze, you lose, dickhead.
Cruz - By the time your dumbass gets there, we’ll already be done.
Just as I’m reading through their texts, I hear the familiar rumble of Cruz’s Harley Davidson down the street and I laugh to myself, knowing it’ll only be a minute before the show is on the road.
I keep reading.
King - Fuck off. You’ll only have her warmed up. Winter needs a fucking man for this job, not your little pindick, but thanks for getting her primed and ready for me.
Cruz - Careful, bro. I might accidentally slip this little pindick into the wrong hole while you’re fucking our girl. Then you’ll see just how big this pindick really is.
King - Dude … no.
Cruz - I bet you’ll fucking love it too.
I get up from the bed and instantly pull off my clothes. If they’ll be here soon, then I want to make it worth their while.
I dart across to my closet and step inside, dumping my clothes on the floor and digging into my drawers. Over the past few weeks since finding out I’m not actually a broke-as-fuck foster kid, Tobias helped me gain access to my parents’ bank accounts. I’ve been busily filling every online cart I can possibly fill and having deliveries dropped at my front gate.
I’m not going to lie, I’m a little obsessed with finding new things online, but apart from clothes, I haven’t really been spending anything. I already have everything I need.