Chapter Four
Adam
Three Days Later
We stood in our usual spot underneath the underpass that led to the main street of Brinton Manor. It had always been our place because we could see anyone coming from both sides of town before they saw us. Also, there was the added bonus that it was undercover, so on those days when it was pouring down, we had somewhere to shelter. But most importantly, we felt like gatekeepers, guardians of the manor, protecting what was ours from whoever wanted to take a chance and come onto our territory.
But I’ll be honest, it was a shithole. You wouldn’t want to spend a night around here unless you had to. Most of the streetlights didn’t work. The pavements were broken and cracked, as if hell was preparing itself to open up and swallow this town whole. What little shops were left open had metal bars fitted at the doors to protect the staff and their stock, anything to try and stop the thieving bastards from having a pop at what didn’t belong to them. In reality, this wasn’t a town, it was a jungle, and we were the hunters, praying on anything that moved.
For the kids who lived here, they didn’t know any better, and the majority of adults had just plain given up on striving to make a better future for themselves, ground down by the realities of life. But not us. I’d worked hard to make sure that never happened. I was thankful that we’d finally secured the means to purchase the lease on the building we’d be using to set up our business and create an empire we could be proud of. Our days of standing on street corners were coming to an end. We’d rule from a more advantageous throne from now on.
Sandland Asylum.
That thought made me bristle with pride. We were doing something no one else in Brinton had done. We were breaking the chains of hopelessness, crawling our way out of the misery that’d tied every other fucker in Brinton down. Don’t get me wrong, Brinton Manor was in our blood, our bones, our very souls–that would never change–but it wasn’t going to hold us back from achieving everything we wanted. In a twisted way, we loved this town, but we were destined for better things.
From where we stood, you could see the surrounding derelict buildings and high-rise blocks of flats with half the windows boarded up, looming over the town. Eyesores trapping you into this urban prison. The people that were housed there knew to stay quiet about whatever they saw going on down below. They weren’t stupid. Some nights it got noisy, a little rowdy you might say, but they knew having us here was better than the alternative. Brinton without the soldiers’ influence and protection didn’t bear thinking about as far as they were concerned. We brought a form of peace to their otherwise chaotic lives. But the soldiers without Brinton? That was the start of a whole new era.
It was dark, cold, and the dim light from the one lone functioning streetlamp nearby was the only thing that could possibly give away our position here. I liked that we were shadows in the night; demons ready to strike. We heard the cackle of laughter a few feet away and looked up as a group of young mums scuttled across the street, pushing their prams. It was way too late for them to be out. Those kids needed their beds, but we didn’t make a fuss. To each their own. That’s how it was around here. What they did was none of our business.
I was scrolling through my phone, looking at the messages on our soldiers’ email account, when I heard Tyler gasp. “No fucking way.”
I yanked on my Rottweiler Tyson’s lead, making sure he was ready, and I stood tall, turning around and keeping the hood of my jacket low to make sure whoever was coming would see the build of my body but not my face. Shoulders back, face covered, body tense and ready to strike. Someone had some fucking balls to come down here and start something tonight.
It was the sound of heels clacking against the pavement that I heard first, followed by a low whistle from Colton who stood a few feet ahead of me. When I stepped farther out to position myself under the streetlight and get a better look, I almost couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Blonde hair tied back, and yet, it was swishing around her shoulders like she was on some shampoo commercial. Tight jeans, an even tighter little black top that didn’t cover her stomach, and a face like thunder that made my dick stir and my heart twist.
It’d been three days since I’d first laid eyes on Olivia Cooper. Three days that she’d dominated every thought I’d had, both awake and asleep. Three days when all I’d done was think of ways to get to her. And now here she was, strolling right into Brinton like she owned the fucking place. Head high, shoulders back, confidence oozing from every one of her perfect pores. What the fuck was she thinking coming here? And alone too? The streets of Brinton Manor were no place for a girl like her.
“Well, well, well,” Colton said in his sing-song voice. “If it isn’t Sandland’s very own Black Widow.”
Olivia didn’t break her stride, just sneered at him as she reached up to rub the pendant that hung around her neck and said, “I prefer Harley Quinn, but whatever floats your boat, soldier boy.” And then she stopped right in front of me and glared. It was one of those I-wish-you’d-drop-dead stares, but it made me smirk. I loved that she had so much fight in her. She was stupid, coming here in the dead of night, and I would call her out on it, but damn, the girl had a fire inside her that drove me crazy.
“You shouldn’t be here,” I said, leaning down to look her in the eyes, but she wasn’t nervous or unnerved by my actions.
She didn’t even move a muscle, just shrugged and said, “I’ll do whatever the fuck I want to do.”
I grinned and shook my head. “A nice girl like you doesn’t belong here.” I gestured around me–with my arms–to the shithole we were currently stood in, like she needed reminding. Dorothy was a long way from Kansas now.
But she jabbed her finger forward into my chest and snarled, “I decide where I belong…” and then she backed up a step and smiled back at me. “And who said I’m a nice girl?”
The others gave low sniggers, and I did a shit job of hiding my own smile, shaking my head at her bare-faced cheek. “Its two o’clock in the morning… Olivia.”
I leant forward again to say her name. I wanted her to know that despite what she said, I was the one calling the shots. I liked that she tried to stay on top though. I loved her argumentative side. It would certainly make things interesting when I eventually broke her.
I tried to keep eye contact, but I couldn’t stop myself from glancing down, where a silver shell pendant hung between her perfect tits. When she reached for it again, I lifted my gaze to stare at her.
“Two a.m. is the perfect time to come outside and chase down the rats of the street. When else was I supposed to come and find you?” She crossed her arms over her chest, then lifted her hand up to bite down suggestively on her fingernail. She certainly had the Harley Quinn gestures down to a tee, which was something I approved of very much.
“Rats?” Colton piped up, holding his arms out in question. “We like to think of ourselves more as foxes, prowling the night, looking for our next feed. We’re foxy.” He nodded proudly to himself and looked to Tyler and Will for a reaction. Their grins seemed to satisfy him, but Devon and I were still focused on Olivia and why the hell she’d put her life in her hands to come here. I mean, it was making me feel all sorts of angry, confused, and aroused to have her stood in front of me, but still, if I had the choice, she’d be as far away from the streets of Brinton as I could get her. These streets weren’t safe, and I wanted her. She was mine. If someone else were to touch her before I did… That thought had me gritting my teeth and a fire raging inside of me.
“Whatever,” Olivia huffed. “Foxes are vermin too. You definitely fit that criteria.” Then she turned her attention back to me.
“You could’ve been hurt,” I said in a low, menacing tone, stepping into her space. “Anyone could’ve attacked you.”