Christ, I shouldn’t be here for this. It feels like I’m eavesdropping on an overly private moment, but my feet stay rooted to the spot, and I find myself unable to look away. It’s like a car accident. A confusingly hot car accident.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he murmurs, his eyes darting to the side.
Maddox huffs a laugh and trails his free hand from the wall to Hunter’s jaw. He traces it slowly, tauntingly.
“Oh, you’re such a fucking liar,” he mutters, just barely loud enough for me to hear, so I lean forward like the voyeur I am. “I have one very important question for you, Rockstar, and this time, I need you to be brave for me. Can you do that? Not lie through your goddamn teeth for once.”
The words are said in a soft coo, like he’s trying to coax the confession from Hunter’s mouth, but his meaning is clear. He’s not one of us; after last night, he may never be.
Hunter’s jaw ticks as he glares up at Madd. At some point, his hands, which were previously trying to push the larger man away, have tangled in his shirt like he can’t decide if he wants him to fuck off or come closer.
"What?" He spits.
Madd watches his fingers continue their exploration over Hunter’s face. His furrowed brows, his cheek, his jaw. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say this is more than just a game to him right now. Finally, his grip lands on Hunter’s chin and tightens painfully, making the other man wince.
“When you picture me naked, am I alone, or am I fucking my girl?” Hunter pales at Maddox’s words, and unfortunately, so do I. It feels like his question is meant for both of us. “Do you wrap your fist around your cock as you fantasize about the way her body feels, the way she tastes? Do you picture her splayed outbefore me with my tongue buried in her sweet cunt as she cries outmyname? My brother’s?”
Hunter’s cheeks turn bright red, and his expression morphs to one of pure fury. The sight of it only makes Maddox more gleeful. Hunter shrugs and shoves off Madd’s touch with more strength than any of us have given him credit for.
“She’s not just your girl,” he snaps, righting his tux jacket as Madd casually steps away from him. “She shouldn’t be yours at all.”
“She sure as shit isn’t yours.” He slides his hands into his pants and leans against the couch, kicking one leg over the other like he has no worries in the world. Must be nice. “But you’re right,” he concedes, his lip tipping into a smirk. “Isabella belongs to my brothers and me, and she always will.”
Hunter rolls his head from side to side before cracking his neck. “We’ll fucking see,” he mutters.
“You know what, Hunter? You’re right. If you can get Ella to fall in love with your tortured ass after that shit you spilled last night, more power to you. I’ll convince the guys to let you in on the little fucking harem she’s collecting. I’ll even vouch for you.”
“Are you serious?” Hunter murmurs, hope lighting up his eyes. I feel sorry for the guy. He doesn’t know Maddox like I do. He has no idea that he’s being played right now.
Madd bobs his head. “Sure thing, Rockstar. If she falls in love with you, like real fucking love, the way she loves the rest of us, you have my blessing.” His shoulder bumps into mine, once again pulling me into something I want nothing to do with. “You have both of ours.”
“Jesus,” I sigh, running a hand through my hair. I cringe, remembering I’d put product in it tonight to keep the much shorter strands in place. “You two sound like you’re fighting over a toy on the playground. Grow the fuck up. Ella’s not an object toargue over. She’s a human and perfectly capable of making her own decisions.”
They both turn to stare at me with matching, confused expressions, but it’s Maddox who speaks first. He slaps my shoulder and barks out a laugh.
“Damn, if I woulda known all it’d take to get your head out of your ass was a swanky haircut, I would have fucked with you a long time ago.”
“Shut up,” I snap, shooting them both glares. “I’m not kidding. She can be with and love whoever the fuck she wants. Christ knows she deserves it after all she’s been through.”
Hunter scoffs. “Yeah, you’d know all about that, wouldn’t you.” I swallow thickly. “You’ve made her life ten times worse, and what, now that you know where she came from and how bad it actually was, you feel guilty?”
“Yes,” I say, not missing a beat. “I do. But I’ve felt guilty from day one. Even when I was convincing her to get off that bridge, I felt guilty. She’s pure light, and there I was, the Devil’s right hand, offering her a second chance while also inflicting her with my poison.”
I choke out a humorless laugh as the past few years come tumbling down around me. Flashes of Carolina. Mom. Ella. Macabre clips of my brothers and I forcing women into the back of U-Hauls and big rigs. Crossing state lines and stealing them from their families.
Even if we were forced to do so, we still did it.
We may have ultimately saved them in the end, but we’re responsible for their trauma. For taking them from their homes and families. Bringing more guns into the city. More drugs.
We’re not good men. We try to be, yet at our cores, we’re as rotten as they come.
But then I think of Ella. I think of the way she’s changing our family, our dynamics. The way she’s healing every single oneof us. How she knows our demons—our sins and embraces us anyway. I think of the way she smiles at them. At me. The way she loves.
I blink.
And blink again.
What I just told them, the way I defended her without pause—I meant those words. She’s an adult. She can make her own choices. She’s brave, strong, kind, and beautiful. She deserves the world, and I...
