I don’t bother asking how that makes up for things with Heather. Instead, I nod my understanding.
“Got it.”
Heather turns around and places her hands on her hips and scowls at us.
“Are you two coming?”
I don’t even want kids, but when she acts like this, I think for a moment I do. But then I remember Heather can’t have children. Another thing that fucker took from her. I’ll be glad when this fight is over because that piece of filth needs to die.
“Yes, dear.” I smirk at her as Knox and I walk closer to them.
Once we reach them, Heather touches my cheek, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
“Good boy, Killian. Such a good fucking boy.”
I hear Knox behind me but pay no attention to him as my skin prickles with excitement.
“Oh Jesus, Tesoro.”
Carter starts laughing, the earlier drama of the evening forgotten. Running my tongue over my bottom lip, I scan her body, taking in every gorgeous inch I’m going to punish.
“I think I misunderstood you, Killer. What did you say to me?”
Any other woman would back down—change her words—apologize—beg for forgiveness, but not her.
“I said,” she tilts her head defiantly, a smirk on her lips, “Good boy, Killian. Such a good fucking boy.”
Glancing at my brothers, I arch an eyebrow, not requiring words because they know the question.
Carter chuckles and throws his hands in the air.
“I’m game for a hunt. You brought this on yourself, Little Heathen.”
Her eyes widen as she takes us in, one by one.
“What?”
I step forward, and she stumbles back, catching herself before tumbling to the ground.
“Killian.” She says in a soothing tone, like you might use with a dog ready to attack.
“Pretty little killer. We are going to give you a thirty-second head start.”
Moving forward again, I growl one word. The deep rumble of my tone causes her to shiver, and I won’t lie. I fucking love it.
“Run.”
She turns and sprints. Her ass jiggles the perfect amount, and her strides are long as she moves from the left to the right, occasionally jumping over rocks and sticks on the ground. Carter is the first to take off, the natural hunter out of the three of us and taunts her.
“Oh, Little Heathen. Whoever finds you first, fucks you first.”
Knox points to the right, keeping silent so she won’t know where he is.
I spot her amongst the trees not more than thirty yards when she trips with a thud and lands on her back.
“Fuck.” she complains before she plants her feet on the ground and pushes herself up with her hands in a move both graceful and athletic.
Impressive.
