I risk pushing just a little more. “And what kind of person agrees to it?”
A heavy silence falls between us, the unspoken words louder than anything we can articulate. Julian’s been decent to us, and we want for nothing. The money’s good, and the power even better. People are afraid of us, and we can get away with a hell of a lot of shit. Still, we aren’t so blind that we don’t know if he ever thought us a threat to himself or his empire, he wouldn’t hesitate to snuff us out.
Threats aren’t tolerated in a world where only liars and thieves thrive.
But Grave grew up with Julian where the rest of us didn’t. He spent his entire life being used and turned into the perfect tool to benefit the man that raised him. The seed of darkness was planted the day he got his name, and I think that’s one of the reasons he refuses to go by anything other than the one he gave himself. Even I don’t know it; a secret that he’ll take with him to his grave.
“She’s good for you,” I reluctantly admit, the truth like chewing rusty nails.
He rolls to face me, resting on his good leg. “Too good for a single bastard in this place.” His eyes glaze over a bit and I’m impressed I got as much rational conversation out of him as I did, oddly fascinated in watching the switch flip. “That’s why we’re perfect together.”
I roll my eyes. “I get it, alright? I’ll back off.”For a little while at least.
“You never listen.” He sighs, closing his eyes and capturing a lock of her hair, breathing in her scent. “I saidwe.The three of us. She’s too soft to survive this world without people looking out for her and needs all of the help that she can get. Not like one of us can be by her side all of the time, and we’ve pissed a hell of a lot of people off over the years.”
I blink, suddenly realizing just how far off his rocker he is. “Why in God’s name would you think she’d agree to something like that?”
“You’re blind if you haven’t noticed her crush on you since day one. The rest of us have been taking bets on which one of you would actually make a move first,” he taunts. “Though, not to brag or anything, but she totally touched my cock while patching me up. Practically proposed and slipped a ring on it before you so rudely interrupted.”
If it wasn’t for not wanting to wake her, I’d punch him in his deluded face. She squirms, tossing and turning in her sleep. Her head ends up on my chest while a leg gets tangled in with Grave’s, her ass pressing into him as she nestles between us.
He simply gestures with a smug smile, making his point. Instead of growling or getting pissed off, I actually stop to think. As ridiculous as it sounds, he makes a decent point. Our family is already unconventional in the first place and lord knows we don’t bend to society’s standards.
We take what we want and kill anyone that gets in our way.
“What if she doesn’t go for it?” I hesitantly ask, afraid to hope when it’s a long shot under the best circumstances, let alone these.
He throws an arm over her stomach and burrows closer, knowing he’s got me. “She will.”
Everett’s woodsy scent surrounds me as I start to wake up, caught in a state of dozing. But that blissful sleep is rapidly fading away as reality starts to crash down on me, realizing where I am.
My cheek is pressed against Everett’s bare chest, and Grave is plastered so close to my back, he’s halfway up my ass. Well, his morning wood is certainly trying, at least. His arm is thrown over my stomach, holding me against him while he breathes softly against the nape of my neck. I hazard a tentative glance up, but Ev has his good arm thrown over his eyes and the injured one lying at his far side.
Grumbling from my movements, Grave pulls me tighter against him, burrowing his face against my neck and mumbling in his sleep. The other guys complain about his eccentric moods constantly, but honestly, I enjoy them. The men I’ve met thus far have all been as dull as frozen potatoes; good to bang against something, but not much else.
“Mornin’,” Everett rumbles and I still, not sure why it feels like I got caught doing something wrong.
My reply is a breathless squeak. “Good morning.”
I’m torn between being thrilled at waking up like this, and wishing I could bury my head in the sand. For the last few weeks I’ve tossed and turned throughout the night, dreaming up versions of a similar scenario. But ultimately, I’m always left feeling the phantom blows that come with ‘slut’ and ‘whore’ screamed in my face. Dampens the mood fairly quickly and is a stark reminder that I need to wake the hell up.
This is a golden opportunity, even if the edges are sharp and coated in blood. I can’t throw everything away for a fling; I need to live here, for fucks’ sake.
Trying to shake the cloud of lust from my brain, I try to sit up. “How’s your shoulder?”
He grunts, still half asleep. “It’ll be fine. Not the worst I’ve dealt with.”
Grave’s obviously awake at this point, but still, he won’t let go, so I ask him next, “And the leg?”
He licks the side of my neck and I barely suppress a shudder. “Agony, really. I should probably spend the day in bed.”
Struggling to untangle myself from them, I throw a leg over Everett so I can climb off of the bed, ignoring the way I want to stay there. “That’s what happens when you treat firearms as toys. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes. So now you’re stuck suffering.”
Grave releases me abruptly and I yelp, losing my balance and careening off the edge. Everett’s hand darts out to catch me, settling on my hip as he yanks me up before I can crack my head on the floorboards.
“Motherfucker,” he hisses, his free hand pressing against his injured shoulder once I’m upright.
Still, despite the pain he’s clearly in, he’s enjoying the predicament. Against my better judgment, I lean forward and pry his hand away so that I can see if he ripped the wound back open, but I’ll at least admit to myself that it’s an excuse. Thankfully, all of the blood on the bandage appears dry.
