Vero nods.
“Then fuck yes, I’m in. Please make sure Clay is there—his ass is mine. I plan to make sure I aim for that fucker’s neck.”
Brawley laughs, and Vero promises he will get Clay to join us. “Get dressed, and I will have a driver come pick you up. Feel free to keep the video call going while you get ready.”
I chuckle and give a good-natured eye roll. “Goodbye, Vero. I’ll see you soon.”
I end the call as he blows me a kiss. He’s brought up the idea of me coming back to the island before, and I would be a huge liar if I said I didn’t want to go back. But I didn’t want anyone to think it was the only reason I wanted to hang around with Vero. I’m more than happy to be his friend. I love the way his mind works, and I admire the freedom of saying what he thinks and feels without filtering himself.
Pulling on the camo pants, I find they fit me perfectly, which means Vero paid attention when he shouldn’t have, and I don’t know if that is sweet or unsettling. The dark-green tank top fits perfectly, and I pull my hair up and dig out my boots from under the bed. I look at the face paint for a moment and decide if I am doing this, I am doing it properly. I draw two lines under each eye and look at myself in the mirror with a grin.
After grabbing my bag, I head downstairs and out the front door, searching for the car that is picking me up. However, I see a massive black truck with tinted windows sitting at the curb, so I ignore it, as I know exactly who it is.
The window rolls down and Clay’s face comes into view. His bandanna is tied around his neck, and one arm rests on the window, but the way he looks at me is like I have inconvenienced his life. The white flag I thought he waved in the kitchen was clearly a lapse in judgment on my behalf.
“Get in.”
I snort. “I was always taught not to get in a car with a stranger.”
He fucking smirks at me. “You also shouldn’t fuck them, but here we are.” He gives me a pointed stare, but I don’t move and cross my arms. “Get in the car, Kayla, before I get out and make you.”
Mabel opens the front door in her nightgown. “Are you okay, honey? I can get my gun.”
Clay sucks his lips around his teeth, and I know the dick is trying not to laugh. “Yeah, Kayla, are you okay?”
I huff. “I’m fine, just going to visit a friend.”
I walk toward Clay’s car, pulling open the passenger door and climbing in. Shit, this truck is as obnoxious as its owner. The entire interior is black, immaculately clean, and smells annoyingly good. Why couldn’t he be a slob? I close the door, and he pulls away from the curb.
“Where is my driver? You didn’t kill him, did you?”
“Sorry to burst your bubble, but you’re not important enough to me to kill someone for you.”
“So why are you here?”
He keeps his eyes on the road. “Because Vero is annoying as fuck and acting like an excited little squirrel. It was either wait there with him or come get you, and while I might not like you, you talk less than him.”
Clay turns the stereo up, and “The Summoning” by Sleep Token fills the air. Clay keeps his eyes forward, and I don’t bother engaging in conversation. He clearly doesn’t want to talk, and I’m okay with that.
After what feels like an eternity, the bridge comes into view. He drives across it and around the side—not the same way you walk to the alley. The dirt road goes around the perimeter of the island, and as I press my nose to the dark tint, everything looks pretty lit up from this angle.
“Get your nose off the fucking glass—I don’t want to wipe your snot off my windows.”
“Why don’t you make me? It’s more fun that way.”
He ignores me, and I go back to watching the lights as he pulls around to the residential side of the island. Once he parks in front of their house and kills the engine, we both get out. Clay stalks away, but I follow him. I don’t mind—it gives me a chance to watch his ass. Why are the good-looking ones blessed with theworst personalities? Though I suppose it wouldn’t be fair to be that good-looking and be a decent human being; the world has to even things out a little.
The new exhibit comes into view and Clay pulls his bandanna up over his mouth. I make a mental note to shoot him in his chest and not ruin the only good thing about him.
I slow down as we approach, in awe of how enormous it appears from a distance. The gates are massive, reminding me ofJurassic Park, and the fence stretches out in both directions on either side, topped with barbed wire.
“Jurassic Park,” I murmur, and Clay glances at me.
“What?”
“The gates... they remind me of the movieJurassic Park.”
He stops and glares at me, but I simply stare back at him, a single brow raised. Clay turns and continues walking, and I fall into step beside him. I can’t tell if he is annoyed, and I find that more entertaining than I probably should.
