“Where the fuck have you been?” Jeremiah demands, ignoring my curiosity of Adam’s date.
I’m frozen, standing with my purse slung over my shoulder, trying to come up with a reasonable excuse for where I’ve been. I need to think of a way to calm him down. Maybe I could slip a sleeping pill into his drink. I keep some of those handy just in case. You never know when you might need someone to go to sleep.
Zahkar taught me that.
Oh, God.
Tears burn in my eyes, and I blink them away.
“Are you fucking crying?” Jeremiah slurs as he plunks his drink down on the table. He rises to his feet and sways.
I definitely wish I could roofie his ass.
But I can’t risk it. Not with Adam watching my every move.
Jeremiah stumbles my way. I fist my hands, keeping them pressed against my sides, so I don’t accidentally put him to sleep the old-fashioned way. A quick jab to the temple. I let out a yelp when he jerks my purse off my arm and tosses it to the floor. The contents clatter out onto the tiles. I cringe as I wonder if my new lipstick will survive the crash.
“What the hell?” I screech.
“Adam brought your new friend home and imagine our surprise when you weren’t here.”
“Only one reason a woman dressed like that is out this late,” Adam goads, a mean glint in his eyes. Fucking prick.
Jeremiah grabs my neck and physically drags me further into the room. His grip tightens, making me claw at his wrist for a reprieve.
Kick him in the balls.
Poke his damn eyeballs out.
Break his neck.
Rodion taught me how…
Do it. Do it. Do it.
Adam tends to cause trouble for his own amusement, and tonight, he is eager to stir the pot and plant seeds of doubt in Jere’s mind about what I was out doing. With the effects of alcohol, combined with the haze of drugs and my lies about being home in our texts, we've set the stage for a confrontation. Jeremiah needs to regain some control to prove to his brother that he isn't weak.
Jeremiah’s hand slips from my neck to grab a handful of my hair.
“Want to tell me where the fuck you’ve been and why you’ve been crying?” he roars, spittle spraying my face. “Why did you lie about going home? Why the hell have you been ignoring my texts? Whose dick were you out sucking, Ally?”
I want to knee him in the balls or bust his teeth out of his mouth with a quick jab of my elbow. But I can’t. I need him and what he offers. It’s not about me and I’m out numbered right now.
Nun girl certainly won’t be a help. She’s five foot nothing and can’t weigh more than a hundred pounds.
“I was sick outside the club,” I choke out. Not a lie. The detachment in Rodion’s and Zakhar’s voices cut me to my soul and it took me twenty minutes to stop vomiting outside when I fled.
Jeremiah laughs, cold and dark, before pushing me to my knees.
“Jeremiah,” I croak out. “Not here. L-et’s go t-to our room.”
There’s fire in Adam’s eyes, his chest rapidly rising and falling. He’s getting off on this shit. Nun girl has gone white as a sheet.
Jeremiah’s gaze softens for a moment, and he releases me. I scramble to my feet.
“You’re a better man than me, brother,” Adam bites out. “If she were mine...”
“Well, she’s not,” Jeremiah growls, grabbing my wrist and halting my plan to flee to our room. I’m forced back down to my knees. “She belongs to me and she knows it. Don’t you Ally?”
