“I don’t know why you’re looking so pleased with yourself,” Galen says, goading Caz with a look. “That was lame-ass.”
“You’re just pissy ’cause the princess beat your time,” Caz retorts.
“What the what?” My confused gaze bounces between them.
“The pit was one of our initiation trials,” Saint confirms, and I try to look like all the blood hasn’t drained from my face. “And you beat Galen’s time by ten minutes.”
I frown. “How can you tell?”
Did the assholes have eyes on me in the woods?
“We based it off the time it took for you to return to the house,” Saint replies.
I slant my best puppy-dog eyes at Galen. “Aw, beaten by a girl. How tragic.”
“Consider it a freebie,” he snarks. “It won’t be happening again.”
I chew on the inside of my cheek, my mouth tasting like sandpaper. “Whose idea was it for me to replicate one of your trials anyway?”
Saint picks up on something in my tone, and he scrutinizes my face closely before he’s forced to return his attention to the road. “Mine. Why?”
“I doubt your dad’d be pleased. Girls have a clear role in the organization, right? I thought they were either wives, girlfriends, or hoodrats?”
“Correct, but why would us dropping your sexy ass in the same pit ruffle Sinner’s feathers?”
I shrug. “Just an observation.”
“Neo wouldn’t give a fuck,” Galen says. “You crawled your way out of a pit. Big fucking deal.”
“One of these days, I’m gonna carve that grumpy look off your face and give you a new smile, à la Joker style,” Caz replies, attempting to lighten the tension in the air.
“One of these days, I’m gonna hack the Urban Dictionary site and wipe it off the face of the planet,” Galen retaliates.
“Shut the fuck up. I’m sick of this shit talk.” Saint grips the wheel tight. “We’ve got business to attend to, and I need everyone’s head in the game.”
“Then, you should’ve left the slut at home,” Galen supplies. “Because all she does is stir shit.”
“I haven’t done a fucking thing,” I protest, flinging my hands in the air. “Not my fault you’ve got a giant stick up your ass.”
The car screeches to a halt in the middle of the road, and cars swerve to avoid crashing into us, honking their horns, the drivers waving angry fists as they pass by.
Holy fucking shit.
Saint is a law unto himself.
“You’re acting like spoiled children, and I won’t tolerate insubordination,” Saint roars, glaring at his friends. He pokes his finger at his cousin. “You’re giving me a fucking headache. Knock it off.”
Galen folds his arms, challenging Saint with a look that suggests he won’t back down.
“I’m in fucking charge,” Saint continues, “and you’ll do as I say. If you don’t like it, I can always have a word with Sinner. See how well that goes down.”
“Drive the car, asshole,” Galen hisses, gripping the back of Saint’s chair. “And fuck off with the lecture. We don’t need a reminder of who’s in charge.” A snide smile graces his lips. “But not for much longer.” He prods Saint in the back in a deliberate move. “Just remember, once we complete initiation and graduate school, we’ll be members of the senior chapter. You’ll only be a small fish in a big pond then.”
“I’m the prez’s son. My word will still be king.” Saint’s bloodcurdling tone sprouts goose bumps all over my body. “And like my father, I’ll move through the ranks quickly.” He sends a bone-chilling look in Galen’s direction. “You’d do well to remember that,cousin.”
Galen bleeds frustration as he stares out the window, seething. He’s a melting pot of restrained aggression that’s going to erupt and destroy everything around him someday.
Saint starts up the car, and we move forward again. “I know shit is eating you up,” he says after a while, glancing at Galen through the mirror. “We’ll get to the bottom of it. I promise.”
