Of course she is. Thomson is pre-med too. He’s the smartest of all of us, but that’s not why he’s in those classes. It’s because his father is a doctor, head of the National Institutes of Health, and so he will be too. That’s how it works. Just like I’ll be a member of Congress one day, only my path is different, because if I keep succeeding like I have, if I keep working hard, I might just end up in charge of the whole damn country. Mr. President. The commander-in-chief. That’s the goal, or at least the goal everyone thinks I’m working toward. I have other goals too, hidden ones, known only to me and Thomson.
“Find out what happened to make her go off the rails like that,” I command. Thomson nods and makes a note in the file.
“Did you notice her before? This Laurel?” The name tastes strange in my mouth. I prefer Tiger or Kitten, something with claws. I flash back to how she lashed out at Jackson last night, the venom in her grimace. The rage in her eyes. She was pretty vicious for someone clearly out of her element. Even I can respect that.
“Kind of. I had the vague sense she was smart, because when a teacher calls on her she always knows the answer. But she never raises her hand, and she’s good at blending into the background.”
“Great.” I toss the paper onto the top of the pile. “She’s hiding secrets, has some kind of tragic backstory, and is a closet genius.” I cover my eyes with my hands and groan. “Why couldn’t she be low-maintenance? Easy to manipulate. I could hide her away and forget all about this.”
“I don’t get it. Why did you bond her?” Thomson flushes red. He reallyisfurious. “Jesus, Carr, what the fuck were you thinking?”
I huff and send him a glare that makes most of the brothers scurry out of the room, but not Thomson. He just crosses his arms and glares right back. He’s savvy enough tonever act this way in front of anyone else, but when we’re alone all bets are off.
“I wasthinkingI had already killed enough people that night.” I sneer, adding, “I wasthinkingit was the only way to stop the murder of an innocent woman. She was just trying to deliver some pizza, for fuck’s sake!”
He puts his head in his hands, closes his eyes, and massages his scalp. “I get that you were trying to protect her, but God, do you realize how muchmoredanger she’s in now? The sisters are going to go batshit over this, especially Sam. Every Jackal will be out for her blood, thinking that hurting her is the same as hurting you. Can you imagine how bad Silas Creed will want her? Your father—”
Without a word, I hold up my phone so he can see the latest text. He scans it silently, reading it line by line. By the end, his eyes are so big they practically swallow his face.
“Well, that’s ominous,” he says, shaking his head. “You’re lucky he’s out of town right now. Otherwise, he’d kill you. Then kill her. Then kill you all over again just to make a point.”
He sounds like he’s exaggerating, but we both know he’s not.
My father is one scary motherfucker.
“Father’s out of the picture for now,” I say, in an attempt to calm Thomson—and myself—down. “As for the rest, I’ll put security on her.”
“How will she handle that? Being followed around twenty-four seven.” He raises his head, looks at me. “How was she last night? Did she freak out?”
“I had Jackson and Stevenson hold her down, strip her.” I duck my head, not wanting to see his response.
“What the fuck, bro, seriously?”
“I needed to know she couldn’t hurt me. Needed to make her feel vulnerable. To establish dominance.” I wince as that comes out of my mouth.
Always establish your dominance.
The second rule my father taught me.
Thomson hears it too. His sigh holds a hint of pity, and Ihateit.
“I had no other choice,” I finish weakly, even though I wholeheartedly believe the words I’m saying.
If I hadn’t bonded Laurel Turner, she’d be dead.
Buried in the cornfield with the rest of the bodies.
***
An hour later, I head back into my bedroom, nodding to Stevenson, who guards the door.
“Not a peep,” he tells me.
Laurel is still asleep, tangled in the sheets like she had a restless night. The blanket is pushed down, revealing her naked chest. Like the bastard I am, my eyes go straight to her breasts and linger there because they’re fucking perfect. Not too big. Not too small. Pink nipples, the kind that probably taste like candy, the type that make my dick instantly hard.
Fuck.
I need to get laid. It’s been forever since I went to one of the whorehouses my father owns two towns over, but in the past year I’ve soured on them. The thought of sticking my dick into a woman who’s probably been screwed by my father and his flunkies or by any of my fraternity brothers is so revolting it turns my stomach. Add in my growing suspicions about the women who work there and who they really are, and there’s absolutely no way I’ll go ever again.
