Axel’s dad and his own were pretty much BFFs, if you could ever call two raving lunatics BFF material.
“Nah. I can’t wait for him to come in my room,” Jett said, licking his lips as if it was the best idea around. “It’s been too long since I got to hurt anyone.”
To most people, this would freak them the fuck out, but Draven wasn’t most people. He pulled away from the curb and drove in the direction of Jett’s house. It wasn’t his job to monitor Jett, only to have his back.
“This thing with Harper, you’ve been wanting her for a while, haven’t you?” Jett asked.
Draven didn’t answer.
Jett chuckled. “That’s fine. I don’t expect you to be honest about it. It’s your feelings after all. I’m not looking to take the piss or to laugh. Just saying, the guys haven’t seen the way you look at her.”
“And you have?”
“I noticed whenever she walked into a room, you’d watch her. It wasn’t even a conscious thing you did either. You’d watch her, and wait, and it was kind of strange to see at first. All the chicks that throw themselves at you, why you’d even want to be with someone like Harper.”
Draven waited.
“Then I realized how different Harper is from all the others. She doesn’t wait for anyone. She’s always been alone. No friends. No connections. No waiting around for someone to laugh and giggle. Then when her mom killed herself, she’s been forced into a situation she hates. She’s struggling. The good girl versus the rebel.”
“You’ve got a poetic spin on shit, haven’t you?”
“I read a lot. It passes the time. What I want to know, Draven, is what you want to tell this girl? Is she going to be yours, or belong to all of us?” Jett looked over at Draven.
“You’ve noticed her, haven’t you?”
“Kind of hard not to. She doesn’t try to draw attention to herself, and that’s what she does without doing it. She doesn’t cry my name and giggle at the first sign.”
“I don’t know what I want. All I know is, I want her. I want Harper.”
“Then you’re going to have to take her.”
“We’re going to be doing this my way,” Draven said, pulling up outside Jett’s house.
“I know. Let’s hope you can handle a chick like Harper. Something tells me she’s going to be pure fire.” Jett climbed out of the car and the knife had gone away.
Draven waited a few minutes after Jett had entered his home before driving back to his place.
He didn’t end up going back to his home. Instead, he pulled up outside Harper’s home. It was late and dark.
Staring up at her place, he wondered where she slept, what she was thinking about, and if he’d completely lost his mind this time.
Harper was a different woman from the kind they always played with. None of the bitches that came to them, begging to be part of their clique, actually got tested. They were there to fuck, nothing else.
Sure, he’d tease them, pretending that if they took all of their cocks, then it was a game changer.
It wasn’t a game changer.
They didn’t have any special instructions on how to be initiated into their group. Since they were kids, they’d come together. Their families had been connected through work. His and Axel’s fathers were the bosses whereas Jett and Buck’s fathers had been mere soldiers. Grunts. Jett’s father was killed in a shootout with a gang in the city. He didn’t leave Jett with anything but a whore for a mother, and this knife fetish he loved so much.
Shaking his head to clear the fog that came with Harper, Draven drove home.
Rather than come in through the front door, he walked toward the back, and wished he’d gone in the front. His father was riding the cook again.
This was the same cook that had been with them all for twenty years, according to his mother. Her food was awesome, and no matter what, she wasn’t allowed to leave the house.
Draven didn’t let his presence be known, especially as he watched his father. He’d seen him fuck plenty of times before. It’s what his dad demanded.
Standing in the shadows, he watched as his father pulled out of the cook, spreading her legs wide, tasting her pussy.
What made Draven pause though, was the love he saw on his father’s face. At no other time in his life had he ever seen that look before.
Watching him now, he saw the truth. His father was in love with the cook. The cook who’d been with them over twenty years.
His father had married his mother twenty-five years ago. They had tried for a kid but had three miscarriages within that first year.
Staring at the two in the kitchen, Draven wondered if his mother had gotten pregnant again or if he was in fact the result of the cook and his father?