His words wilt me. I sink to the bed, hanging my head in my hands. “You’re cruel.”
“I’m honest.” He comes closer and crouches down. “I don’t give a fuck what it takes to save Sloane from you. If I have to fuck you to do it, I will. If I have to supply you with coke for the rest of our time here, I’ll do that, too. You’re not my concern or my priority. Just another wet pussy to eat and fuck. Just another pretty mouth to fill with my cock. All girls can be bought. It’s just a matter of discovering the sale price.”
One thick, long finger swipes at my tear, but I slap his hand away. Soft laughter rumbles from him and I curl up into a little ball.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
The question is snarled from the door, but not from Sloane. I think it’s Maitland, but I no longer trust my knowledge of what I know about the band to be certain it’s the drummer. When I lift my head, I discover I’m correct.
“I’m finding her price to get her away,” Kiln answers calmly.
“She should leave,” Maitland agrees, “but we’re here.”
“Sloane can’t control his own cock and it’s attached to his fucking body. What the fuck makes you think we can do it? If he wants to fuck her, he will.”
“Sloane left that fucking party after we settled the fight to come back to her. If he finds you in here—“
“I’ll tell him the reason I’m in here.”
“Because you’re a ruthless, unfeeling motherfucker,” I snap, unable to control myself.
Maitland shoves Kiln aside and reaches a hand down, smiling when I place my own in his. “Food should be arriving soon. Get dressed and meet us out there.”
“I need to find a T-shirt of Sloane’s,” I mutter, the heat of a blush sweeping through me.
He nods. Although he showed hostility to me before, his eyes are kind and gentle. “He won’t mind.” He pins Kiln with a hard stare. The asshole smirks and shrugs, but precedes Maitland out of the bedroom, leaving me alone to dress and get over the mindfuck that just happened.
Sloane
We’ve eaten and we’ve drank and we’ve laughed more than we have in a very long time. Now, it’s midnight. Georgie is sitting on the floor, her back leaning against my leg as I splay them and rest my arm on the back of the sofa where I’m lounging.
She’s playing a game on her iPad and is now grumbling. “Fuck the pets. Fuck the blocks. Fuck all of it,” she screeches to her tablet. “I’m fucking done!”
Abruptly, the music that’s been hurting my ears for almost an hour dies off. I thank a higher being for small blessings.
Adam grins at her and drags on his cigarette. “Those cute little pets you showed me got the best of you?”
“I’m stuck on one fucking level and I can’t get off of it. It’s been days. As far as I’m concerned, those little fuckers never have to be rescued.”
Quint grunts, stands, and takes her iPad in hand. The music starts again. “You really should have a passcode,” he says, distracted. Crashes and oinks, along with the odd bark, resound around us.
“What for? Who the fuck’s around for me to have to worry about someone looking at my shit?”
Maitland winces, but Kiln’s considering look is raising my bullshit alert. He’s up to something or has already done something. Maitland has been keeping close tabs on him the entire fucking evening. When I walked back in from playing mediator and punisher, both Kiln and Maitland looked strange. Guilty, even. They’d been very close to my door, too, but with a quick investigation, I found nothing out of place. Georgie’s shadow bounced from the half opened bathroom door, and I heard her moving around.
I can’t prove fuck, but I fucking know Kiln. Ruthless, conscienceless fucker.
Georgie jumps to her feet and I avert my eyes, not dwelling on how she looks in my T-shirt. Her legs are exposed, and I resist the urge to order her to put her leather pants back on. I haven’t questioned her reasons for not having them on in the first place. Besides, I like her in my clothes, her hair in a ponytail.
If I could overlook my need to offer her direction, then I could ignore my desire to discipline her.
She leans over Quint’s shoulder and they whisper amongst themselves. A smiling Quint is something I don’t see often, but Georgie’s amusing in her inappropriateness.
“Fuck no!” she squeals and I scrub my fingers through my hair.
“Stop with the bad fucking language,” I snap, irritated. “You’re a young lady. Act like you have manners and respect for yourself.”
The very air around us slams to a halt. The guys stare at me, but Georgie is so still, so silent, I wonder if she’s crystallized.
Finally, she speaks and she’s bristling. “You’re not my father.”
“Thank fuck.”
She stiffens, affronted on the asshole’s behalf. If she only knew.
“The point is, you can’t tell me what to do. You found me fucking cussing, so shove it up your ass and take me that way.”