Deviant (Boys of Winter 3)

My stomach churns at the thought and I push the schnitzel away despite how badly I want it.

I get myself sorted out and take the painkillers, knowing that while I get ready for the stupid Dynasty meeting to figure out what to do with Harding, it’s going to start hurting more than I can bear. But there’s nothing I can do about it. This meeting has to take place, and it has to be today. I’m not letting that asshole get away. We’re dealing with this, and we’re dealing with it now.

I throw my blanket back and groan. This really does suck, but I keep telling myself over and over again that it could be worse. After getting shot, there’s no way I would have been able to get up and walk around so soon. I should be grateful that a small stab wound is all I suffered, considering who Harding is in all this bullshit. I very well could have been lying on the ground taking my final breaths.

I guess sneaking out of the house in the middle of the night really was a stupid idea.

Sucking in a deep breath, I get to my feet and try not to groan too loudly. If the boys knew that I was trying to get up by myself, all hell would break loose, and I really don’t need their help going to the bathroom. I have boundaries that not even they can cross.

“Who the hell put me back in this room?” I call out as I creep across my bedroom and step into the bathroom. My favorite black tank and leather pants lay across the counter, paired with the skimpiest thong and bra imaginable. I guess Cruz was in charge of helping me today, and the very thought has a grin stretching across my face. I’m glad that even when hell is raining down over us, some things just don’t change.

“You were drooling all over my pillow,” Carver calls back from his room. “If you want to be gross, do it in your own space.”

“The whole house is my space,” I remind him. “You’re more than welcome to take your ass back to your place if you don’t want me drooling over everything.”

“Shut up and eat your dinner,” King calls from somewhere down the hall. “The council meeting starts in less than an hour and you need to be ready.”

I roll my eyes and drop my ass down onto the toilet, and as I take care of business, I pull off the gross clothes that I’ve been in since last night and look down at my stomach. Deep bruising peeks out from under my bloodied bandages and I let out a sigh. I’m going to have to take a shower.

I get myself up, and within moments, I’m standing under the warm rush of water. I try to go fast, wanting to beat the boys to the punch, but before I can even get the shampoo out of my hair, Grayson is standing at the door of my shower with new bandages in his hand and a warm towel ready to wrap around me.

I give him a small smile, and after turning off the taps, I allow him to wrap me up. Once I’m thoroughly dried, Grayson sits me up on the counter and wordlessly looks over my wound before bandaging me up and helping me to get my new tank over my head.

“Did you take the painkillers?” he asks. “If they’re not enough, I could probably find you something a little stronger.”

I shake my head. “It’s fine,” I say, stopping his hands when he insists on helping me get into my pants, starting to cross that boundary line. “I want a clear head for this meeting. I can’t risk fucking it up. You can drug me up as much as you want once we get back.”

“You sure?” I nod and he helps me down off the counter. “Did you eat?”

“Couldn’t,” I grumble, gripping onto his strong arm as I bend down to try and pull my thong and pants up my legs. “The thought of being in this room with what Sara has been doing … ugh. I’m going to move my bedroom down the hall. There’s probably pussy juice spread all over my room.”

“Pussy juice?” he questions.

I nod, as serious as can be. “Would it be weird if I moved into my parents' room? I mean, it’s the biggest with an awesome walk-in closet and the bathroom is just … it’s beautiful, but … you know, it was their room.”

Grayson shakes his head, grabbing hold of my pants and yanking them up my legs and over my ass when he decides that I’m taking too long. “I think it’s fine. It’s not like they’re coming back to claim it. Besides, I think they’d want you to be comfortable in your own home. The boys and I can pack up all their stuff and put it in storage so it wouldn’t feel like you’re intruding on their space. You can make it your own.”