Becoming A Vincent (The Wild Ones 1)

He shakes his head, looking at me like I’ve lost my mind.

“You sound like you’re proud of this.”

My smile grows. “Lilah has both of them under her thumb, even though she likes to act like she doesn’t. She knows, without a doubt, that if she told them to kill someone, they’d simply ask her where she wanted them to hide the body. So yeah, I’m proud to be with her, because she’s tough but never acts like she runs this town. None of the Wild Ones do. They simply defend their own and mind their business, for the most part, when they’re not bored and looking for a good time.”

He groans as he shifts.

“Their business was burning my ass. I could have been seriously injured.”

“If they thought you were too stupid to jump in the lake, they would have found another way to scare the shit out of you. They’ve tested all this stuff on each other—the brothers, not Lilah—before they use it on other people. It’s ‘fun’ to them to test these things. They knew, down to the second, how long your ass could be on fire before it burned through your clothes or spread.

“That’s just…insane.”

I look out, seeing the flag flying high, taunting me. Lilah’s at home. So close, yet so far away.

I bet her brothers are camouflaged and armed with pipe bombs right now. I have no choice but to take extreme measures.

“That’s Tomahawk,” I say, smiling tightly with a bittersweet taste in my mouth.

“And you’ve lived like this for nine years and we never knew when we came to visit,” he says on a sigh.

“It only gets really crazy in the winters. During the summer, people seem to entertain themselves better. During the winter, the Wild Ones get restless.”

He moves to the window, eyeing her flag as well.

“Does it make me a masochist that I want to see it in the winter now?” he asks seriously.

I’m not sure what’s happening here, but I actually feel a little bit like I have a brother again. Not like before, but maybe one day.

I never thought that bridge could be repaired.

“That’s Tomahawk. It draws you in with its craziness, and once you start rolling with it, you find it impossible to leave.”

“Speaking of leaving, doesn’t she know that’s dangerous? To fly a flag when she’s home and lower it when she’s not? People always know her movements.”

I snort, then double over and outright laugh.

“What?” he asks, confused.

“Her brothers set your ass on fire, and they knew you weren’t a physical threat,” I say around my laughter. “What the hell do you think would happen to an intruder?”

He pauses like he’s thinking about it.

“If anyone ever tried to hurt one Wild One, all the Wild Ones would break the cardinal rule by coming together and joining forces, and hell would rain down on whatever idiot thought it was a good idea to break in or worse. And that’s only if they survived the original Wild One. There’s not a soul for a hundred miles who doesn’t know this. It’s why Tomahawk is the safest place to visit.”

He massages his temples. “I feel like I’ve landed in another universe.”

“No. Just a small lake town that literally has nothing much else to do but entertain itself. Born and raised in the wilderness makes you…different. Hell, living here for nine years has changed me.”

He studies me for a moment. “I can tell. You seem to really be happy.”

My eyes flick back to that damn flag.

“I will be happy. As soon as my water cannon gets here.”

“Water cannon?” he asks, his voice going up an octave.

“There’s only one way to win back the heart of a Wild One. You have to prove you’re crazy enough to deserve it,” I explain.

“But a water cannon? What the hell, man?”

“You still with me? I won’t be able to execute the next part of my plan alone.”

He sighs harshly. “Hell, might as well. Just tell me your next plan won’t set my ass on fire.”

“Nah. But just abandon ship if they manage to almost blow us up.”

He pales as I walk over and grab my phone. I have some people to call.

“You’re kidding, right?” he asks.

My eyes come up. “What part of Wild Ones don’t you understand?”

Chapter 22

Wild Ones Tip #56

Chaos is not scary. It’s sexy.

LILAH

“You love him,” Aunt Penny says with no preamble.

She’s the only one I’ve told the truth to since Benson hurt me three days ago.

“I can’t love him. We’ve only been together for a little over two weeks,” I point out, even though it sounds like a lame attempt at a protest.

I finish setting up her website, and turn it around for her to look at. She gushes over it for a second, then I turn it back around to fix her screen so she can check her orders easily.