Savage Little Lies (Court Legacy 2)

tomorrow. We’ll work first thing.”

I told him that was cool, thinking about the bracelet as he got into his Hummer. I wished I could remember where I’d lost it. I recalled loving that thing and had always worn it.

I’d probably loved it more because my mom specifically had given it to me. I didn’t have a lot of things from her and even fewer memories. They seemed to wipe away each year I got older, my memories of her fading.

I drew her that night in my studio before bed, her face. I tried to remember the slants and curves and just about fell asleep with a paintbrush in my hand. I never could get the face right, though. She looked oblong, blank. My memory was grasping at things I didn’t have.

Maybe, in the morning, I’d try again.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Sloane

I’d woken up Friday morning to find the Legacy boys outside my house.

They’d brought a flatbed truck.

It was just after 5 AM, and I’d only gotten up to pee. I had swift plans to go back to bed after that, but after spying them all through the window, I raced downstairs. I had a hoodie hanging up on the door, and after tugging that on (mostly to account for the fact I didn’t have a bra on), I slipped on a pair of high-tops. I was rushing so damn quick, I was lucky I didn’t put my brother’s shoes on.

I bristled in the garage. All of them were in there. Wells and Thatcher were waving and directing the car Ares and I’d been painting.

The dark prince was inside it.

Dorian had his arm hooked behind the headrest, backing the car up with the guidance of his two friends. The flatbed was apparently for the car because they were having Dorian drive the thing in line with the truck. The only one not messing with the car was Ares, who was currently tethering the other part of our project to the top of his Hummer.

He’d covered it and everything, and with all the activity behind him, he hadn’t noticed me until I was all up on him.

None of them had.

All the activity stopped the moment I was in front of Ares. Wells and Thatcher were literally mid-wave, and without the guidance, Dorian himself stopped the car. He faced forward, gazing through the windshield.

He stopped on me, his big fist clenching and unclenching the wheel. He had his school uniform on, though the tie was undone and his shirt was open. Apparently, he had plans to go to class after whatever they were doing here.

I hated that I studied him as long as I did before noticing the others. Wells and Thatcher had their uniforms on too, both guys rocking on their patent leather shoes. They were obviously at a standstill on what to do like Dorian.

“Fuck, we were trying to get this done before you got up.”

This came from Ares, his hands lowering from the tethers. He too had his uniform on. Though his was minus the jacket. Upon further observation, I noticed he had it in the front seat of his ride.

The tall boy came around his Hummer, tugging his shirt down. “Shit, we woke you. Didn’t we?” he asked, and after waving off his friends, he came over to me.

I noticed right away Wells and Thatcher continued what they’d been doing. Wells proceeded in waving Dorian while Thatcher got everything going with the truck. The only person who hadn’t moved was Dorian himself.

He was at a standstill behind the wheel, his wrist resting on it. Ares caught me watching and turned toward his friend.

The two made eye contact for several seconds until the dark prince decided to let it go.

Hooking an arm around the back of the headrest again, he continued to back up the car, and the next thing I knew, Ares Mallick was waving me to come with him.

“What is this?” I asked, staring behind him. Business as usual proceeded to continue on without the distraction of me.

Ares shoved his hands in his pockets. “Well, you know we’re finished. I asked the guys to help me move everything. We’re taking the piece to the school.”

Well, it would have been nice to know that was happening. And we had finished last night, I supposed. Technically, a couple days ago. We’d wanted to make sure everything looked okay after the paint dried, and last night had just been more of a touch-up session.

I’d ended up going to bed about three hours ago, but before that, there hadn’t been any talk about moving everything right away.

Let alone who he was going to recruit for help.