“Didn’t we shrink your balls enough, Yorkie? Don’t worry, we can always come back for seconds,” I was coming back, bringing back glorious memories of him flinching when I hurt him with the spinning drill bit. “Next time, we’ll record you screaming like a piglet.”
Ignoring my poke, he said with that smirk, “Have a good time last night?” Then cocked his eyebrows.
I cringed at his question, suspecting that it was a loaded comment.Last night? Last night?“Yeah? So? Why the fuck would you care?”
Then he leaned in, and all I wanted to do was wipe that smile off his face with my fist. In a slimy tone, “When you and the Warwick were with,” a deliberate pause, “the Boleyn girl.”
He sniggered as they walked away, and I shrugged it off, not giving a damn if they saw us. So what? On the outside, it looked like we were having a bit of fun with Adina, but in reality, we were giving her a taste of what was to come if she didn’t obey us.
Whatever. He acted like he stumbled across some dark and clandestine affair. We’re all single consenting adults.
It was obvious Adina enjoyed herself until we stopped. The way she was yearning for us to continue to finish her off was like light to my shade. She was so hungry, desperate for our cocks to penetrate her, and fuck she got me hard. Her body was grinding against my cock as I held her body tight, wrapped in her sweet lemony scent, drawing out lusty sighs and horny cries.
Fucking great. The best.
But as my mind switched back to what James York implied and there was something in his sly tone. And the more I thought about it, the more I suspected the Yorks were up to no good and might spring something on us as retribution for tormentingJames with the electric drill. That was his fault for worming his way into Adina’s bed. Trying to fuck Adina was a line they didn’t want to cross. She was ours to possess.
Bring it on, fuckers. It won’t be the first Warwick versus York battle, and it won’t be the last.
32
The ringtone screamed out, just as he was about to speak,and my hands fumbled over my phone to switch it off. “Sorry,” I breathed, embarrassed, then swallowed nervously. “My dad.” I felt the need to show the detective my dad’s name on the screen. Gosh, I needed to cool my jets and stop acting like I was guilty of something I didn’t do.
Detective Magone smiled but watched me closely, which made me shake even more as Ezrah and Lev’s threats for me to keep my mouth shut kept nagging my internal dialogue, and I needed to brush them aside and relax.
“Are you ready?” Magone asked as he opened a folder, and I leaned forward trying to see what was written on it, but he turned the top page over.
“Yes,” I nodded, then put my phone away in my bag as my father, the Warwicks, and Lev were pushed to the back of my mind.
“Good.” Magone then nodded to the officer next to him to switch on the recorder, and he glanced at his watch, then said aloud into the recorder the time, date, and my name.
“So, your surname is Boelyn? Are you related to Maxwell Boelyn?” he asked, and I was tempted to say, ‘What did he have to do with this?’
I nodded as the words were caught in my throat due to the nerves firing bullets at my chest. I cleared my throat and croaked, “I’m his daughter.”
“You’re Maxwell Boelyn’s daughter?” he repeated, and I nodded, and he asserted, “Speak into the recorder.”
I took a sip of water from the glass on the table and then said aloud, “Yes, I am Maxwell Boelyn’s daughter.”
“That was him calling you just now?” he added casually. I think he was making small talk to try and relax me, but it wasn’t working because Ezrah’s angry threats kept popping up in my mind.
“Yes,” I replied and leaned down to grab my bag off the floor, assuming that he wanted to listen to his message.
“No, no,” he showed me his palm, “I don’t need to see it. That’s your personal business.” He jotted something down on the file before him, and I assumed it was my file, even though I couldn’t see a name on it.
“Okay,” I took a deep breath to calm my racing heart. “he’s probably calling to remind me to look for an old school photograph of my stepmother.”
Too much information. God, Adina, why do you switch from being too terrified to speak to verbal diarrhea when you’re nervous?Shut up, shut up, shut up.
“Oh, okay. Your father remarried?” he questioned curiously, and I was unsure if this was him making small talk or if this was part of the investigation. My head was bulging with a hundred million scenarios, some imagined, some real.
“Yes,” I clammed up after replying because I didn’t want to talk about her for fear they might detect that I hated her and that might make me guilty of something. Oh, gosh, my brain needs to shut up.
Magone straightened his back, and I knew we were about to get into the purpose of why I was there. So, I had to be prepared for questions that might make me uncomfortable.
“So, Adina Boelyn, are you aware of why you’re here?” he stated, looking at me from under his eyebrows, which was a little intimidating.
“Because you asked me to come in,” I replied, then realized that sounded arrogant, so I backtracked. “Because of the incident on the train.”
