Total pages in book: 177
Estimated words: 173392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 867(@200wpm)___ 694(@250wpm)___ 578(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 173392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 867(@200wpm)___ 694(@250wpm)___ 578(@300wpm)
“Clay and Liv are together,” she points out, taking off her hoodie and tying it around her waist. “He’s fine with Liv being with a Saint.”
I dig a pack of cigarettes out of my breast pocket. “Is he?” I light one, blowing out the smoke. “Why do you think he changed his mind about letting Liv go to Dartmouth? Sending her off and even helping pay for it, so she can’t use debt as an excuse to come home to a state school to be near Clay?”
Her brows pinch together, and I see the wheels turning in her head. She straightens, staring down at me. “He thinks the distance will kill the relationship.”
I nod. “We had to mop Army up off the floor after his girl destroyed him. Macon’s tired of cleaning up problems that should never have been problems.”
“Did he ever have to clean up after you?”
I snap my gaze to hers.
But before I can answer, she’s walking away and throwing me a sly smile over her shoulder.
I wasn’t going to tell her, but she knows there’s something she doesn’t know. She’s not stupid, is she?
I take another drag. By the time the full measure of the consequences of fucking the one Saint I should never have fucked hits the Bay, she’ll be gone anyway. Probably.
Macon will be cleaning up after me for years.
The truck pulls up to my right, and I hear the rumble of another bike somewhere farther in the distance. I spot Aracely at the carnival entrance adding tequila from her flask into a frozen lemonade she just bought, and Krisjen finds Liv and Clay where everybody is dancing to a DJ playing music. I could buy them all a drink. Liv has to go back to school in a couple of days. She’d appreciate it.
I could buy them all a drink to be nice. I’m not going to. I’ve grown enough for one day.
I turn my face up to the sky, just as thunderclouds roll in, and the warm wind blows the tent flaps. I smoke the last of the cigarette, the breeze caressing my hair, and the smell of hot tar drifting through my nose. Reminds me of kites. I don’t know why.
“We’re all going to be wet in an hour,” I hear Trace call out.
He walks over to me, smoothing back his dark hair and refitting his baseball cap over it.
“Yeah.”
No one cares, though.
He sees my cigarette and reaches into my breast pocket, stealing the pack. He lights one up, and we both gaze at the crowd of people, taking in the view. Army circles his arms around Krisjen, and she laughs. I look at Trace watching them.
“You still want her at all?” I ask him.
He shrugs. “Sometimes.”
His answer surprises me. I thought he’d lie, act like he doesn’t care.
“She’s good at loving,” he tells me. “She was pretty hot on Iron that night.”
He saw them through the trees. I’d only heard about it.
By the pool. On a lawn chair. In the rain.
Iron’s the only person I ever really feel comfortable with. Of course he’d make love to a girl outside, in the night air. If someone wants to look, that’s on them. Not him. That’s why I love him.
With Krisjen, though, I hated her more. Of course she would fuck another one of my brothers, making a spectacle of herself for everyone to see. Sluts spread for anyone.
Yeah, double standard. Boo-fucking-hoo.
But really … She was going to hurt him. She’s going to hurt Army. Women bring pain. Wives make everything worse. I would’ve been fine without a mom.
I watch her dance as she smiles with my sister and her girlfriend out on the dance floor.
But honestly, I’m glad Iron had something that felt good before he went away. I’m really glad.
“She’d be a sight with all four of us,” I say before I can stop myself.
Trace turns, looking at me.
I inhale a deep breath and flick the cigarette butt off. “I’ve been trying to get rid of her, but I’ve been completely ignoring how useful she could be.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
I hold his eyes for a moment. “She’d do anything for us, Trace. For the Bay.” I look back out at her as she pulls her hair out of her ponytail, looking like such a tomboy in her jeans and T-shirt, no makeup. Makes me dream about stripping her down. “Krisjen Conroy on camera would buy us our land and anything else we wanted for good. Her grandfather would pay whatever it took to keep a video quiet.”
He immediately squares his shoulders. “No.”
“You and Army have already fucked her,” I tell him. “I can do what needs to be done. We’d be good to her. Gentle. Take her somewhere private and quiet. On the boat, maybe?” I don’t blink. “She’ll have the night of her life, Trace.”