Sicko

“Oh,” I murmur, pulling out a chair that’s tucked beneath an old desk. “He had a reputation back then, but it was, I don’t know.” I look around the room, taking in the empty photograph frames and old whiskey bottles. There’s a large bed, a desk and a dresser, and a small boombox. If this is where Royce stays, he doesn’t stay here often. “He was just different.”

“Hmmm,” she teases. “Well, I’m glad that’s not awkward.” She pushes up the clear glasses that sit on the bridge of her nose before sliding her feet back into her shoes. “Come on. We’ll go help everyone in the kitchen. I can almost hear Mom yelling at me.”

The kitchen area of the house was filled with women by the time we got there. A couple I had met, some I hadn’t. Silver didn’t waste time introducing me to everyone, even rubbing it into Bea who I was with. Bea sat there glaring at me for the most part, her hands tucked in her jacket and her legs kicked out and crossed at the ankles.

Metallica is playing in the background now as Karli, Justice’s ‘old lady’ swings her hips side to side while stirring a mixture of salad leaves in a large brown bowl. There’s me, Silver, Bonnie, Karli, Bea, Kara—Roo’s old lady and former Miss Australia—Lilac, Justice and Karli’s four-year-old little girl, and Boujee, who is sitting on Silver’s lap. Music is playing, and a couple of the girls are laughing between each other, sharing a beer. They seem more like a family than any gang I’ve ever heard of. What I’ve witnessed with James is much, much worse than this. My heart swells in my chest, filling empty parts inside of me with warmth. I can’t deny the release of tension in my muscles from being around these people. Familiar. The walls that hold up this old house feel more like home to me than the multi-million-dollar mansion I grew up in. These women feel more like family to me than my own mother.

All I’m missing is Sloane.

With a flutter inside my gut, I pull out my phone from my pocket while taking a sip of my beer. 0 New Messages.

What the fuck.

“Right, Jade?” Silver asks, her blues bright and wide, waiting for me to answer whatever it is she has just asked.

“What?” I put my phone onto the table, taking another swig of my beer. I’ll call her after dinner. She should definitely answer then.

A snort comes out of someone from the other side of the table, and my head snaps to Bea who is staring daggers at me. “Like she would know.”

Silver ignores her, and I’m starting to get the distinct feeling that Silver isn’t too fond of Bea. Not sure why. But there’s something there. “You know, the movie everyone is talking about right now with the hot guy in it. He’s like, Spanish or something and oh—” She pauses, rolling her eyes back.

“I know what movie you’re talking about.” I smirk at Silver. “Where he takes her to his cabin in the woods?”

“How fucking hot is he!” Silver gasps, juggling Boujee on her knee.

“Ye—” A hand comes to the front of my throat from behind, and I’m momentarily in shock by the power convulsing against my back. My head is jerked back until I’m looking up at Royce from behind me, his brows raised.

“He’s what, Duchess? Continue what you were gonna say and see what happens.”

I’m still paralyzed from his blatant possessiveness, before I finally collect myself. He releases my neck and takes the few steps to dive into the fridge that’s in front of me, still scowling over his shoulder. I haven’t spoken to him all day, since we fucked last night, and the first thing he does is manhandle me in front of all his friends—or family—or whatever they are to him.

He kicks the door closed, and just as he’s about to walk past me, he leans down into my ear so only I can hear his next words. His lips graze my earlobe and my insides damn near catch on fire. “Say any other man is hot, and I’ll shove my cock so far down your pretty little throat that you’ll be eating through a straw for the next month.” He catches my lobe between his teeth, leaning even closer into me. “The Royce you knew isn’t the Royce that you’re about to know. I’ll fuck you within an inch of your life just to prove a point, Duchess.” Then he leaves, with my cheeks flaming hot, my thighs clenched together, and a pool of moisture right between my legs.

Why am I the way I am?

I believe him. By God, I believe him. Which is most likely what is going to make this somewhat fun.

“Jesus,” Silver grumbles, watching as Royce makes his way back outside where most of the men are. “He’s even worse than I thought he was going to be.”