Page 31 of Triplets for the Rival MC

The others look at me, mouths agape, eyes wide. “You have to be kidding,” Hunter says.

“I mean, maybe not a sex tape, but you know, some sort of proof. It would be the ultimate humiliation for him…” I try to explain, but I feel like my feet are sinking in quicksand.

Cyrus speaks first. “Tori, we would never, ever ask you to do that,” he says emphatically, reaching out to hold my hand.

“We wouldn’t use you like that. We would never use you,” Hunter insists, shaking his head.

“Our relationship has nothing to do with King. It’s none of his business, and we won’t let him hurt you anymore. If he knew about us, god knows what he might try to do to you in retaliation,” Flint says fiercely, the muscle in his jaw twitching as he holds back his anger at the theoretical danger it would put me in.

“They’re right, you’d be putting a target on your back. Act like a whore and he’ll treat you like one,” Screw says.

Hunter rises out of his chair.

“Hey, man,” Screw says holding his hand up. “I don’t mean your woman is a whore. You know what King is like.”

“We’ll think of something else,” Flint insists, moving the discussion along.

I zone out the rest of the conversation, lost in the spiral of guilt and shame that overwhelms me. I feel bad. The guys would put me first, above humiliating my father, above winning the war. Meanwhile, the main reason I seduced them in the first place was that I wanted to use them to get back at my father.

Yes, I’ve developed feelings for them now. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to use our relationship against my father, that I didn’t think about hurting him with it. If the guys found out, if they knew the truth, I’m not sure they’d ever forgive me.

I don’t deserve them.

Maybe I am as bad as Screw thinks. Perhaps I am my father’s daughter after all—a selfish, vindictive user.

Chapter 18

Cyrus

I can’t stop thinking about what Tori said in the meeting a few days ago. Something about the suggestion of using our relationship to antagonize King, and her reaction when we rejected the idea, has been bothering me. It’s not one single thing I can point to, it’s the way it all sits in my chest, heavy and unresolved, a question I’m afraid to ask because I might not like the answer.

Ever since then, she’s been acting differently toward us. Not dramatically so, but in the quiet ways that matter more. The pauses before she speaks. The way her smile doesn’t always quite reach her eyes. The way she sometimes looks like she’s bracing herself, even when nothing’s wrong. I don’t think I’m imagining it. I’ve replayed our conversations over and over, trying to convince myself I’m reading too much into things, but my instincts won’t let it go.

I can’t shake the worry that Tori might not feel the same way about us as we feel about her. The thought curls in my gut, tight and uncomfortable, a slow-burn anxiety that refuses to fade. I wonder if to her, this is just a bit of fun, a way to get back at her father. That maybe we’re a rebellion, a distraction, a temporary escape from a life she’s desperate to push against. I hope I’m wrong because it will hurt like hell if I’m right.

Because I’m in love with her.

I know that now. The realization didn’t come all at once, it settled in quietly, like something that had always been there waiting for me to notice. I’ve fallen for Tori. I love her, and I need to know if she loves me too, but I’m scared to ask. I’m afraid of getting hurt. The fear sits sharp in my chest, stabbing me. I’m afraid of getting hurt, of opening myself up only to find myself vulnerable and exposed with no one to pick up the pieces if she doesn’t catch my heart and it shatters on the floor.

I also worry that Tori might believe we’re with her for the wrong reasons. I hate to think that she might assume we’re only with her to piss off her father, that we’d use her like that. The idea makes my stomach twist. She deserves better than that. She deserves honesty, safety, and love that isn’t conditional or strategic. But I don’t think she believes that. I think she would expect us to use her. Her whole life she’s only been seen as a commodity or a nuisance, of course she’d expect that the only possible way we would want her is to gain something from it. I know that Tori wouldn’t expect us to love her for her. And that breaks my heart. It makes me want to throw caution to the wind and ride over to the Raging Bulls clubhouse and burn it down for them making her think she’s nothing.

Today I’m in the clubhouse with Tori, sorting through stacks of paperwork and old invoices, searching for anything we could use against the Raging Bulls. Over the years we’ve gathered as much as we could on our enemies. The air is warm and stale despite the fan rattling uselessly in the corner. Sunlight filters in through the grimy window, casting soft bands of light across the floor where we’re sitting amid a chaotic spread of folders and documents.

She’s quiet, absorbed in her work as she stares at the paperwork spread out in front of us on the floor. She furrows her brow in concentration, the tip of her pen in her mouth as she thinks. It’s such a small, intimate habit, one I’ve noticed before, and it makes my chest ache in that way that comes from loving someone too much.

She looks up, eyes widening as she notices me staring at her. “What? Do I have ink on my lip?” she asks, inspecting the pen for leaks.

“You’re beautiful.” The words slip out naturally. They’re not what I planned to say, but they come out anyway.

She blushes, color blooming across her cheeks and down her neck. She crawls over toward me on her hands and knees, a sight that makes my cock twitch as her round ass sways side to side, her cleavage on display. She kisses me, a sweet, lingering kiss. She tastes like cherry lip balm, the faint sweetness grounding me in the moment, reminding me that this—she—is real.

“You’re sweet,” she breathes. She must sense my inner turmoil, the thoughts plain as day across my face, as she asks, “Is something wrong?”

“You know I’m not with you because of who your father is? We didn’t seduce you as some grand plan to get at King. I don’t give a fuck who he is. It’s you, I care about. We’re with you because we want to be. After all, we have feelings for you, no other reason.” My voice is steadier than I feel. I want to add that I’m with her because I love her, but something holds me back.

Tori blinks, surprised. She wasn’t expecting this. “I know,” she says quietly.

“Do you know what the worst part about the Bella situation was? It wasn’t the jealousy or the arguments. It was that she used us. She used us to get what she wanted, to feel better about herself. The betrayal of being used, of her making us believe she loved us when really she only cared about herself, that was the hardest thing to come to terms with. I would never, ever use you, Tori. I know how much it hurts to have your trust abused like that.”