Vero’s manic laughter fills the air. “I swallowed it. Figured you can’t force us to separate that way.”
My eyes widen, and I turn my head to look at Vero in disbelief, somewhat surprised Clay allows the movement. “You didn’t seriously swallow it, right?”
Vero smiles wider at me—great, he isn’t lying. He actually swallowed the fucking key.
“FUCK! I really need to hurt you right now, but I can’t do that while you’re fucking attached to her,” Brawley growls.
“This could benefit both of us,” Clay says, and Brawley startles, almost as if he only just realized he is here. “I have an idea, follow my lead. The bitch might finally realize not to fuck with us, or she may decide never to come back again. Win-win really.”
“You touch him, you die.” The way Brawley growls the words, I believe he means exactly what he is saying. He would kill Clay for touching Vero and not lose a wink of sleep.
Vero mentioned they are all friends, but they seem to have a weird way of showing it.
Clay salutes Brawley, but doesn’t let go of my hair with his other hand, then he pulls me along, quickly weaving us between some old headstones.
Once I see exactly where we’re going, I laugh. “Aww, you really dug a hole for me, that’s so romantic.”
Vero turns, twisting our arms in a weird direction so he is walking backward. “Why don’t you dig graves for me? Clay has one up on you, baby.”
I snort.
“He didn’t fucking dig the hole,” Brawley growls. “Noa digs all the graves, and this one is no different.”
Clay releases my hair roughly, and as I stumble, he puts his foot out. I tumble down into the grave, though somehow, I awkwardly manage to land on my feet. By default, Vero’s arm follows, but he doesn’t fall inside; rather, our arms extend over the edge as Vero peers down and smiles at me.
“Oh no,” he says as Clay jumps down beside me and shoves me into the dirt wall. It crumbles down on my shoulders as his hand twists back in my hair.
“Are you looking forward to being buried alive?” Clay mocks.
I buck my head backward, and as he avoids that hit, I bring my free arm back and elbow him in the gut. I snicker at the sound he releases, a half grunt, half wheeze.
“You won’t do it. Though I don’t know any of you well, I know Brawley won’t let anything happen to Vero, and we are attached right now.”
Clay pushes my face into the dirt harder as he leans in against me, and his bandanna must be pulled down because I feel his breath fan across my cheek. “If I pull your arm from its socket and cut it off, that problem is solved. I don’t know what kind of men you’re used to, but we are not them.”
A shiver runs up my spine. But if they were going to kill me, I would already be dead.
“Big threat from a man who just got winded by a woman half his size.” I turn my face as much as I can, catching him in my periphery. “You sure you want to keep pulling my hair? Or do you get off on embarrassing yourself?”
“I can’t tell if you have a death wish or the biggest balls out of the four of us,” Vero chimes in from above us. “I’m going to say balls. Brawley, she has bigger balls than Clay.”
“Don’t encourage her,” Clay snaps.
“I don’t need encouraging,” I tell him. “I am doing just fine on my own.”
Clay shoves my face into the dirt again, and I laugh as he presses in behind me. I can feel every inch of him; he is clearly enjoying this just as much as I am.
“Are you going to keep grinding on me, or are you going to tell me what your plan is?”
“The plan,” he says, close to my ear, “is that you are going to stay down here until you learn some manners.”
I laugh—I can’t help it. “Clay, I’ve been down here three minutes, and I’ve already winded you. What makes you think time is going to fix things?”
“I like her,” Vero announces. “I know I keep saying it, but I really, really like her. Brawley, can we keep her? I want to keep her.”
“Nobody is keeping anyone,” Clay snaps, his grip tightening in my hair. “She is going to apologize, go home, and never come back.”
“Wow,” I say. “Okay.”
