Siren eyes me warily.
“So . . . I’ll ask you once, and once only, why the fuck are you trying to break into my garage?”
He looks at his sister and then back at me.
“Ashton,” she screeches, “if you don’t fucking tell him, I can’t stop what comes next. You best own your shit.”
He sighs. “I was paid to do it,” he confesses.
“By who?”
His eyes flit between me and his sister again, and she nods in encouragement.
“Reaper,” he mutters reluctantly, pinching the bridge of his nose. “He’s gonna fucking kill me.”
“He won’t touch you, but if you cause any more shit for me, Iwillfucking kill you. You understand?” He nods. “Now, get the fuck outta here before I change my mind.”
He scurries out my office with Siren hot on his tail. She pauses at the door and turns to face me.
“Thank you,” she murmurs.
“I didn’t do it for you,” I snap, already regretting my decision.
CHAPTER FIVE
ROCHELLE
As I walk down the stairs, I see Siren leaving Drifter’s office and my blood boils. It feels like everywhere I fucking look, this whore is in my space.
She spots me, and her expression instantly turns smug. The corners of her mouth twitch, forming into a smirk, and then she struts towards the exit with confidence.
My hands curl into fists. I take a deep breath then push my way into Drifter’s office and stand in the doorway with my hands firmly on my hips.
He looks up from his phone in irritation, but before he can speak, I ask, “Why the fuck was she in your office?”
He rolls his eyes, sighing heavily. “Because, Hell, I have a fucking club to run.” He goes back to his phone like I’m boring him.
His dismissal boils my blood even more, and I clench my jaw. “Why does that mean you need to have a fucking whore locked in your office with you?” I blink, waiting for his response, andwhen it doesn’t come, something twists in my chest. “I won’t play second fiddle to a club bunny, Drifter,” I warn.
His head snaps up, his eyes burning into me. “Shut the fucking door,” he demands through gritted teeth.
His ‘President’ voice doesn’t scare me. I don’t even flinch. Instead, I arch a brow in warning, folding my arms over my chest and squaring my shoulders.
There’s a minute’s stand-off before he sighs and rises to his feet. He rounds the desk and closes the distance between us.
“We don’t need the entire fucking club listening to another of your outbursts,” he hisses, grabbing my arm roughly and pulling me into the room before slamming the office door.
His words burn, and I snatch my arm out his grasp and put space between us.
“I’m waiting for a fucking answer,” I say.
He throws his arms in the air in exasperation. “For fuck’s sake, Hell,” he snaps impatiently. “We talked about all this. You know how this shit works.” He runs his hands through his hair. “What the fuck do you think I was doing?”
I arch a brow. “The door was closed,” I remind him through gritted teeth. “Why else would Siren be in your fucking office with the door closed?” Angry tears prickle at my eyes, and I blink fast to try and chase them away.
He steps into my space. “Say it,” he seethes, his nostrils flaring. I shake my head, my eyes darting to my feet. “Say. It,” he repeats more clearly, and this time his finger goes under my chin to tip my head back so he can look me in the eyes. “What do you think Siren was doing in here? Ask me the fucking question, Hell. I dare you.”
I uncross my arms and take a breath, my eyes burning with jealousy. “Were you fucking her, Drifter?” He huffs out an unamused laugh. “You told me to ask,” I yell. “Are you happy now?”
