I laugh. “Girl, your sex life is on fire.” Bree is stunning and sassy and into dick and pussy, so I’m not surprised she has no trouble finding willing bed partners. She seems to spend most nights hooking up and never goes back for seconds. I might be slightly envious even if I’m deliriously happy with my two guys.
“It’s not all it’s cracked up to be,” she cryptically says just as there’s a loud thud against the door.
We get up at the same time, racing to the front door. Bree gets there first, cursing when she looks through the peephole. She swings the door open, and Ares falls into the hallway, clutching his head and groaning as he lands on the floor.
Bree darts outside at the sound of screeching tires as I drop to my knees beside my stepbrother. His black shirt is torn in several places, his jeans are filthy, all his clothes smell like smoke, and he has several cuts and abrasions all over his face, arms, and chest. “What the hell, Ares?” I lean over him as I check the rest of him for injuries. “What happened?”
“I’ll get the first aid kit,” Bree says, coming inside and closing the door.
“Who was that speeding off?”
Her expression darkens. “I don’t know. It was dark, and I couldn’t see.”
“Who dropped you off?” I ask my stepbrother, reaching for him as he attempts to sit up. It must be someone sanctioned if they got through security at the gate. He winces, his face contorting in pain. I help to prop him up against the wall in the hallway while Bree goes to get some supplies. “Ares, what’s going on?”
“I don’t know who dropped me here,” he pants, lifting his shirt and prodding his lower abs. Blood pumps from an open wound across his lower belly.
“Were you stabbed?” I ask, horrified at the state of him.
“Slashed, it’s not too deep,” he rasps, poking at it.
“Stop.” I pull his hand away. “It could get infected. Your hands are dirty.”
Ripping the remnants of his shirt, I pull it away, leaning down so I can get a good look at the injury.
“If you want to see my dick again, dollface, you only have to ask.”
I shoot daggers at him. “Do not fucking joke at a time like this.”
“Aw, are you worried about me, little sis?” Grabbing a handful of my hair, he pulls my face to his and kisses me. A smokey, coppery taste lingers on his lips as he devours my mouth, and I momentarily get lost in it before sense returns.
I rip my lips from his and glare at him. “Are you kidding me right now?”
“I’ve been wanting to do that for months.”
He reaches for me again, but I slap his hands away, peering deep into his eyes. “Did you hurt your head too?”
His dark chuckle rings out in the hallway as Bree’s racing footsteps get nearer.
“I don’t have a concussion. I thought I might die tonight, and one of my biggest regrets was that I never kissed you.”
“Did he knock his brain loose?” Bree asks, hearing the tail end of Ares’s statement as she drops to her knees beside me.
“Don’t ask,” I murmur, taking the bowl of water, a cloth, and towel from her. “Why did you think you’d die?” I ask him, dipping the cloth in the water.
“The warehouse blew up,” he says, and panic floods my body.
“What warehouse? Was this gang shit? Please tell me Chad wasn’t there!”
Bree shares a look with me as I begin washing the blood, dirt, and grime from his chest.
“Chad was there,” he says, and a strangled sound rips from my mouth.
Ares grabs my wrist. “He’s okay, Ash. Someone pulled him out too.”
“Oh god.” I slap a hand over my chest, willing my pounding heart to calm down. “Do you swear it? You saw him and he’s okay?”
“He’s alive. I swear it. I would not lie about something like that. I hate that prick, and I wouldn’t be sorry to see him dead, but he made it out.” He lowers his hand to his lap, and my shoulders slump with relief.
