“It’s not a competition, Dre,” he says. “Mainly because, if it was, then Silas would win instantly. He would make sure of it.”
I grin slowly. “Isn’t it?” One brow arches, but I don’t wait for an answer. I turn, peeling back into the chaos of the chapel.
“Catch you later, Hughes.”
I go back over to the pew, rip the flask from CJ, and drain a mouthful before wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. Let ’em chase after their tight little blondes with daddy issues. I’ve got a black cat Cinderella with claws and a mouth that saysnowhen her eyes begyes.
Sure enough, a familiar figure appears from the treeline.
Her dark hair cascades over her shoulders, and those curves of hers are more pronounced in a tight black top and a short red skirtthat grabs my attention. She folds her arms over her chest, clearly defensive, clearly pissed to be here.
I bet Zane practically dragged her here.
“Holy shit. Black at ten o’clock,” CJ mutters, noticing my stare.
Mad whistles. “Didn’t think she’d actually show up.”
I push off the pew, handing the flask back to Rook with a sly grin. “Later, boys.”
I slip through the writhing bodies, beelining toward Mara and her watchdog. By the kegs, Zane is trying to hand her a plastic cup of beer. She looks like she’d rather toss it. Before she can, I step into their path with a broad, cocky grin.
“Was wondering when you’d show up, Hellcat.”
Mara’s eyes snap to mine, already glaring. Even angry, she’s so damn pretty.
Zane immediately bristles. “Back off, Dredyn. Your asshole friend, Beck, texted me saying there was someone here.”
“Got a crush?” I ask, running my tongue over my teeth, eyeing Mara head to toe, completely ignoring Zane.
She scowls. “Screw you, Dredyn.”
My grin widens. “That a promise?”
Her cheeks flush, whether in anger or embarrassment. She opens her mouth, but I can’t resist pushing her more.
“You look tense,” I say. “Need a hand, or maybe a little tongue?”
Zane takes Mara’s elbow, and I’m so fucking sick of him thinking it’s acceptable to touch my girl. “C’mon. We can just go.”
Mara hesitates.
I offer her a hand, palm up. “One drink, Mara. Stay. You are my girl after all. Let me show you off a bit.”
That does it. Her spine stiffens, she yanks her arm free of Zane, and snatches the cup from his hand. “Fine. One drink.”
“Mara, don’t?—”
“I’ll meet you by the street in ten minutes.”
Zane looks ready to argue, but the stubborn set of her jaw stops him. He levels a warning glare at me instead. I just give him a lazy two-finger salute and a grin. Defeated and angry, he backs off a few paces, though I know he’s still watching.
The second he’s gone, Mara rounds on me. She pokes a finger at my chest. “Happy now? I’m here, having a stupid drink. Do you like me being miserable?”
“Miserable?” I step closer. “If I wanted to make you miserable, I’d let you rot in that manicured little life they built for you.”
I tilt my head, watching her jaw twitch.
“I’d let you sit pretty in that dorm like a good girl, wear your pearls, smile for the cameras, cross your legs just right. I’d let you play perfect daughter, perfect princess, perfect little fucking pawn.”
