I got dressed, used the lipstick I had in my wallet to write a small message to Jett and Rogan that I’d had a good time and would see them soon on the back door, and then I slipped outside to the front. Huxley’s golf cart was still sitting where I left it, but Rogan’s was parked in a different place than it had been. Not only had they stayed up past me, they’d left and come back. I’d have to ask them what they did after I passed out, if for no reason other than the fact that I was incredibly curious.
I looked across the field of well-manicured grass and noticed that a whopping four golf carts were parked at one of the houses a few down from Jett’s. I thought about my growing penchant for getting mixed up sexually with the Foxxes when I was around multiple of them at once and my nether regions immediately started to tingle. A four on one? My mind started to wander to an expressly naughty place. How I could still even be thinking about sex after the way Jett and Rogan satisfied me was beyond me.
I looked at my reflection in the windshield to Huxley’s golf cart. “Nympho.”
I giggled as I climbed into the Huxley’s golf cart even though I was concerned it might be accurate. I drove the golf cart towards the collection of carts, noticing as I got closer that they belonged to Quentin, Keaton, Maverick, and Delvin. I parked the cart and climbed out just in time to hear a litany of screams coming from inside.
“NO! SHIT! OH MY GOD! NO! HELP ME!”
My heart started to pound. I rushed over to the front door and was relieved that it wasn’t locked. I pushed the glass door aside and ran into the house, and another cry bellowed out.
“DUDE! NO! DON’T KILL HIM!” The house had a spiral staircase to the left of the front door, and the noise was coming from the bottom.
I thought about everything that Harley and Huxley had told me about Dante and Malia and the level of danger they were capable of. The twins were legitimately afraid that if Harley didn’t go through with the marriage to Malia that they would kill his dad. Maybe something had happened and Dante had lost patience and decided to take matters into his own hands. I whipped my head around in all directions, looking for anything I could use as a weapon. I ran around the house until I finally found the kitchen. The counter was covered in half full drinks and unfinished plates of food. It was even more evidence that something had happened suddenly. I opened all of the drawers until I finally found a butcher knife. Taking it in my hands I started to tiptoe back towards the staircase.
“HELP ME!!” I started down the stairs with the knife gripped tightly in my hand. “FUCK NO! MAVERICK! NO!”
Maverick? His arrogant smile shot to my mind. He was always making snide comments about me or trying a little too hard to convince me that his stature was no indicator of his manliness. Little did he know, I was already well aware; everyone was. When Maverick was just being his typical, energetic self, there was no second guessing him. My cheeks started to warm thinking about what kind of lover he would be compared to his brothers, but my thoughts were pierced by another yell.
“SHIT! NO! Q!”
Not Quentin too! I started to move a little faster down the stairs, my hands shaking with the knife gripped inside. If there really was a bloodthirsty mobster, was I actually going to be able to do anything worthwhile? I reached the bottom of the stairs, which had an open set of double doors to the left, and two, closed doors to the right. No other screams for help found my ears, so I simply had to make my best guess. I held the knife above my head and ran full speed through the double doors.
“DROP IT!” I screamed.
Quentin, Keaton, Maverick, and Delvin all turned around and looked at me with wild looks of confusion on their faces and video game controllers in their hands. After staring at one another in silence for about thirty seconds, Keaton slowly crouched down and set his controller on the ground, and then stood back up with his hands in the air.
“It’s okay, Alexa, just put down the knife,” he said.
I let out a sigh of relief and dropped my hands. “What the fuck! I thought you guys were in danger!”
“Um,” Devlin said, “why?”
“Because you were screaming ‘Help me!’”
Delvin nodded. “You know, that’s fair.”
Quentin set his controller down and walked over to where I was standing. He pulled the knife out of my hand and set it off to the side, and pulled me into a side hug and held me in place. “We’re okay.”