Crowned by Hate (Crowned 1) - Page 22

“Bryant?” I call out, walking into the apartment and removing my jacket. I know I should ask more questions about who it was that was there the day that he captured me. The day the truth came out. It feels like a lifetime away already, but I figure I already truly know who it was. It would have been one of the other guys from that day, whose faces I wouldn’t be able to pick out if they were all lined up together. I didn’t recognize Bryant as Wolf the first time I met him, there’s no way I would notice the other guys. This is why drugs are bad and why you should stay in school.

“Yeah?” his voice cuts through my thoughts as he saunters into the kitchen. Dark loose sweatpants hang from his lean hips just as droplets of water drip off his floppy dark hair and cascade down over his chiseled chest.

Fuck me. This is not helping my train of thought at all. Then his ocean blue eyes pierce through me like lasers, so I quickly divert my eyes before I get sucked in.

With his eyes still on mine, he pulls open the fridge door and takes out a carton of milk, flicking it open before bringing it to his lips.

“Are you just going to stare or are you going to tell me a plan?” I snap, tossing apartment keys onto the kitchen island.

He chuckles, swiping the milk from his lips. “You don’t throw orders around, Isa. You will know the plan when I say you will know the plan. Until then, learn to control your mouth or I’ll fuck the shit out of it. Are we clear?”

I grit my teeth. “Crystal.” Not clear at all, but again, the play nice card. Which is going to be maxed out soon if he carries on like this. How long is he going to treat me like this? Because honestly, a girl can only take so much.

He points. “Go upstairs. I’ll have someone collect the rest of your shit from your apartment.” How he knew that I had left some of my belongings at my apartment, I don’t know, so I follow his orders, heading up the stairs and into his room. I take a seat on the edge of his bed, just as he walks in moments later. He leans against the doorframe. “We have to lay the groundwork, and you won’t make this difficult for me, Isa.”

“I won’t,” I murmur, resting my elbows on top of my knees. “I just—what do you have on me and can I please see it?”

He glares at me, so I glare back. I don’t back down without a cause, and him having a tape that could possibly prove I’m a murderer is a very good cause to back down for, but he’s testing my self-control. Just when I think he’s about to tell me to fuck off, he pushes off the wall and walks toward the closet that is opposite his bed. He disappears inside for a few seconds before coming back out, carrying a USB stick. Kneeling down, he reaches for a bag and places it on the bed, unzipping it but keeping his eyes on mine.

Pulling out a laptop, he throws the bag back onto the ground and takes a seat beside me, placing the laptop on his lap.

He looks at me. “You want to see or not?”

Kicking off my shoes, I crawl down the bed and sit just behind him, enough that I can see the screen of the laptop clearly.

He chuckles, shakes his head, and then looks back to the screen, hitting play on a video. I see from the corner of the room where I walk in. It was just after Brooke and I—well, Brooke—hit some lines of coke, and the four post bed is in clear view of the camera. Bile rises in my throat and I close my eyes, trying to squash down the memories. Seeing the tent again isn’t something I thought through—obviously. I know what happens about five minutes after that and so on. It’s obvious that they recorded the whole thing. “I don’t need to see anymore.”

He shuts the laptop and turns to face me. “We could both benefit from this, Isa. It gets your dad off your case, too.”

I can’t help but laugh, sliding off the bed. “Who said my dad was an issue for me?”

He shrugs. “The fact that at almost every social event, you hated it, but yet you were obligated to go.”

I pause. Honestly quite shocked at his answer. I thought my fake smile was on point. “How would you know?”

He halts, looking up at me from picking up his bag, then grins. “I’m observant.”

Brushing my hair out of my face, I stand and place my hands on my hips. “Okay so what exactly are you proposing? What’s the plan?”

Tags: Amo Jones Crowned Erotic
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