Chapter 40
Ramsey
I've got Reese's hand in mine, her fingers laced through my own like they belong there, as we walk toward BEDLAM. It’s been a few months since we’ve been here and it took that long for me to bring Reese back. Her begging every other week helped, I do enjoy watching her beg for me.
The music pulses from inside, vibrating through the concrete beneath our feet. I'm already thinking about getting her on the dance floor, pressing her ass against my cock while she grinds back on me, when I spot them.
"Fuck," I mutter, stopping short.
Reese bumps into me from behind. "What's wrong?"
I nod toward the three men standing near the entrance. Copeland is talking to Lucien Devereux and Elijah Moretti like they're old friends catching up at a fucking country club instead of standing outside the dirtiest underground club in the city.
"Who are they?" Reese asks, following my gaze, her voice tinged with curiosity.
I sigh, desperate not to tell her but knowing she'll fucking grab me by the balls until I do. She's like a dog with a bone when she wants information.
"Nothing good," I say, jaw clenching. "It's never anything good when those two appear."
She squeezes my hand, tugging me to a stop. "Come on, Rams. Spill."
"Fine." I nod toward them. "The one on the left is Lucien Devereux, the heir apparent of the Devereux Family. The other is Elijah Moretti, the eldest of the Moretti family's triplets." I keep my voice low, though we're still too far away for them to hear us.
Her eyebrows shoot up. "You know them?"
"Unfortunately." I start walking again, pulling her alongside me. "I know of them, at least. Our paths have crossed."
"So what's their deal?" she asks, still staring at them like they're some kind of fucking museum exhibit.
I clench my jaw, hating how her attention is fixed on them. "Lucien is captain of the basketball team at St. Augustine University. Elijah is on the hockey team in apparently all his free time. He looks identical to his brothers except he's the only one who can spend more than five minutes in a Devereux presence."
"Oh, is there bad blood?" she asks, perceptive as always.
"Yeah, something like that." I tug her closer to my side, my arm snaking around her waist possessively. "They're part of some ancient club at St. Augustine."
Her eyes light up. "Oh! Like a secret society?"
I roll my eyes. "Yes, Reese, a secret society. With rituals and blood oaths and all that dramatic shit."
"Ooooh, like The Skulls?" Reese's eyes widen with interest, and something in her expression makes my blood pressure spike. "That's kinda kinky. I could be into that."
I whip my head around, staring at her like she's just suggested we jump off a fucking bridge. "No the fuck you won't be."
"What? I'm just saying?—"
"You're not saying shit about being 'into that,'" I growl, tightening my grip on her waist. "Those fuckers are different, Reese. Not the sexy kind of different. They operate on a separate plane of existence."
She rolls her eyes, but before she can argue, I feel the weight of someone's stare. When I look up, Lucien's dead eyes are locked on me, his expression giving away nothing. Fuck. He's seen us.
I sigh as he starts moving in our direction, cutting through the line of people waiting to get in like they're not even there. Elijah follows a step behind, his movements more fluid but no less purposeful.
Copeland catches my eye over their shoulders, mouthing "my bad" with an apologetic grimace. That motherfucker. I'm gonna kick his ass six ways to Sunday for this little introduction. He knows damn well I've been keeping Reese away from shit.
"Hello Blackwood," Lucien says when he reaches us, his voice smooth as glass and just as cold.
"Devereux," I respond, keeping my tone neutral even though every muscle in my body is tensed for a fight.
His lips twitch in what might be amusement. "And who's this?" His eyes slide to Reese, assessing her with clinical detachment.
