Jacob slowly squats down to grab a suitcase underneath the table that holds the laptop. It has a piece of paper taped to it with all four of our names. He clicks open the sides and reaches inside, pulling out manilla folders that he slowly hands to each of us, before lowering the suitcase back to the ground. Maybe it’s another check?
The manilla folder holds three stark white papers. Onecontains the lease to a brownstone close to school in the rich part of town, all four of our names on it. The second is a monthly recurring transaction set up to my bank account for six thousand dollars. Shit. What the hell? The third and final paper is about my sister, Ama. Who the hell is this person? How do they know about my sister? And there’s no way I can turn this down if it’s true.
I hurriedly slam the manilla folder shut and stare down at my shoes. My socks are still damp from outside, Converse dirty and close to falling apart. The other guys remain eerily quiet. I thought I’d be coming here tonight to get some quick cash, maybe punch a few people, get my aggression out that I can’t take out on my roommate. But now I’m not so sure. The money is hard to turn down, a nicer place to live without hearing someone clip their nails literally twenty-four seven, and Ama. I am always thinking of Ama. Maybe this is worth doing just for her, to know that her future can be taken care of in a way my parents can never even dream of affording.
“I got keys for a Mercedes?” Parker says in confusion. He slowly holds up a pair of shiny keys for us to see. “Anyone else get a car?”
Hayden shakes his head, but holds up a pair of house keys. “I got keys to the house.”
“Well,” Jacob says blandly, gaze flitting between the three of us. “Hi, roommates.”
And I guess it really is that simple. Everyone has a price.
1
DANTE
“No fucking way, dude.”
Hayden aims his ocean-blue eyes at me, all squinted and shit. Fuck. “Please, Dante.”
Oh fucking, fuck, shit, damn. Jacob and Parker stand off to the side of the large living room, arms crossed, identical smiles on their terrifyingly similar faces. I am so fucked.
“It’s too dangerous,” I mumble, already knowing I’ve lost the fight on this one.
Hayden’s sweet smile sends a shiver right down my spine. “Please?”
“Okay, gross, don’t use yourdaddy, pleasesmile on me. It won’t work. Fine. Whatever, I’m outvoted here anyway. But I amnotcleaning blood from your jeans again because you guys are always so fucking messy.” I sneer at all of them because theyare. Slobs. “You can clean the blood out of your designer jeans by yourself. I am mostly speaking to you, Parker.”
“Hey!” Parker yells with a roll of his eyes. “I do my own laundry.”
“Oh, so now we just flat-out lie during the tribunal?” Jacob quips with a leer of his own.
I hold my hands out with a grunt, all of them quiet and turn to look at me. “Just shut up. Hayden, you better have a hell of a plan to get us into the back of the club and out without being noticed by a single person.”
Hayden’s smile is somehow even worse than it was a moment ago. Oh no. This time my stomach curdles and sweat breaks out at the back of my neck. When I glance over to Jacob and Parker, they’re wearing the same sort of look that Hayden is. I grimace as I realize tonight is going to be absolute hell in more ways than one.
An hour later, I’m working my way into the club alone, already fighting the urge to cringe at the smell of sweat and alcohol. I hate clubs. I also hate leather pants but that’s what I’m wearing because the guys always have to make me a spectacle. The club is warm, flashing lights adding to the bad mood the place has put me in. Now I’ll also have a migraine tonight.
As eyes in the club turn to me, my body prickles with awareness of their stares. I hate being ogled. If I could fade into the background everywhere I went, I’d be a happy, happy man. I mumble half-hearted apologies to people as I bump into them while making my way to the center of the dance floor, but no one seems to care.Everyone is too caught up in their own lives.
People are either drunk or high, two things that I can’t stand myself. Hayden is going to owe me something off of my wish list after tonight. I’m thinking those really expensive headphones I’ve been eyeing that I’m too cheap to purchase for myself. Mr. Rich Kid can buy me what I want afterdressing me up in leather pants, a mesh shirt, and putting goddamn eyeliner on me.
I start to dance, raising my arms so that the shirt lifts enough to show off my stomach that’s muscled and covered with tattoos. Some eyes stay on me, but the majority go back to their own business. That won’t do. Fuck.
My watch buzzes with a reminder that the boys are starting the mission, but I’m not causing a big enough distraction to get the bodyguards at the doors at the other end to abandon their station. I’ve got to get sluttier or louder, not sure which one is the best option. My eyes scan across the crowded club, looking for absolutely anything to get me the distraction I need.
But my eyes land on a platinum-blond twink instead. Oh. He has a nose piercing, and a barbell through his perfectly shaped eyebrow. The longer I look, the more I realize his hair has streaks of rose pink shot through it. He’s wearing tight-as-fuck jeans and a mesh crop top that shows off the skin of his stomach. My brain does this red-alert-cease-to-think thing when I notice the fucking ring through his belly button. Oh, Jesus Christ. The way he’s moving his hips to the beat, arms in the air, eyes closed, makes my body feel like molten lava is moving through it. Now is not the time to try to pull someone.
“Are you trying at all,” Parker drawls into my ear.
I growl and Hayden laughs through the comms. “You’re going to piss him off. When he goes full Hulk in a rage, maybe we’ll get the guards gone. Oh. Guys, this door is unlocked, oh no, oops.”
“Fuck, Hayden,” Jacob gasps just before the comms go dead.
That sounds bad. But I’m in the middle of the dance floorwith no further information, so the only thing I can do is stick to the original mission. Get eyes on me or cause a scene. I shake my arms out as I think of something to do, just as my eyes catch on a big, older guy trying to drag the platinum twink off the dance floor. The twink looks unsteady on his feet, eyes glassy with the classicI took somethinglook and all my protective instincts go on high alert.
Pushing my way through the crowd, I stop just behind the twink and leer at the guy just a few inches shorter than me. “Does he want to go with you?”
