West told me Appleton didn’t play fair. I nodded faintly. My paper heart wrinkled into a ball of sorrow. He’d tell me, wouldn’t he? West told me everything.
Other than what matters.
“I’ll ask him about it.”
“Tell him not to do it. If he messes with the wrong people, and you are associated with him, you could get in trouble, too.”
“West’s smarter than messin’ around with criminals, and he’d never put me in danger.”
“West is fearless, and stupidity is bravery’s mistress. Recklessness is its wife, something else he has in abundance.”
She was, of course, right. I knew that. I popped the driver’s door open.
“Don’t worry. West is a good apple.”
A green candied apple.
And possibly a poisonous one, too.
“Did you agree to a second fight with Kade Appleton?” I asked West when we were on the Ducati, on our way to Reign’s party. Hot wind swirled my yellow hair. I wore another long-sleeved mini dress. White with pink dots, paired with hot pink heels. I took a risk in wearing lacey sleeves. If people paid close attention, they could see some of the scars on my left arm. But I felt wild and beautiful next to West. A full-fledged phoenix, stretching out its golden wings, flying sunward, with glittering specks of fire in its wings.
West turned his head back toward me, but all I could see through his helmet were those smoldering, earth-scorching eyes that shone like beacons in the dark.
“Where’d you hear that?”
“Doesn’t matter. Is it true or not? I don’t want you gettin’ in trouble.”
He whistled low, making a show of downplaying the entire thing. “You sound like my mother.”
I sound like your girlfriend, you hopeless brute.
We cut through the assortment of stores on Main Street. The Albertsons grocery, little café, and pizza parlor. There wasn’t a soul in sight. Everyone worth knowing was currently at Reign’s frat house. Karlie was right. This definitely wasn’t our scene.
“Just answer the question, West.”
“And if I am?”
“Then I’ll have to ask you to kindly withdraw from the fight on the grounds that he almost killed you last time.”
“I won the match.”
“Half-dead,” I quipped, trying to keep my temper in check. “How do you expect me to sleep at night knowing you’re goin’ to fight some bastard who beat up his pregnant girlfriend?”
“I don’t expect you to sleep at all. I expect you to wait for me with a beer until I’m done whooping his ass, preferably spread eagle, with a bow over your neck.”
“Are you fightin’ him or not?” I bit out, not half-entertained by the visual. I had a feeling that if Kade Appleton were given another chance at fighting West, he’d use it to kill him.
I felt his muscles going rigid under my fingertips. He was angry. Tough luck. I wasn’t going to let him risk his life to cut a paycheck. It was our first real argument as a couple. Even though it made me nauseated, I stood my ground. Maybe that was why West refused to fall in love. Because when you loved someone, and they hurt you, it felt like your soul was shredded to tiny ribbons.
“I’ll tell Max the fight’s off,” he clipped, just as he parked in front of a red-bricked Georgian building with white columns, hoisting one leg over Christina. “Now get off my case, woman.”
We headed to the door, shouldering past clusters of partygoers while I tried to recall what had made me think it was a good idea to come here. My eyes roamed the people around us. The more I drank them in, the colder my blood ran.
West had left out one little detail about the party—it was anything but clothes themed.
Girls were strewn on the front yard’s lawn, sheets of bubble wrap swathed around them like strapless mini dresses, secured by fashionable belts. They all waved and blew kisses to West as we passed them, shooting me inquisitive looks. A herd of guys who’d taped fluffy animals to their genitals manned the front doors. They fist-bumped West when we got to the entrance.
“Yo, St. Claire. Wassup, wassup, wassup.”
“Move,” he grumbled, snatching my hand quickly, like I was a parcel he needed to dispose of. One of the guys held up a hand.
“Sorry, man. You know the drill—no rules, no party.” One of them pointed at a sign on the door.
Get naked or get goin’
A tall blond guy scanned me head-to-toe, crunching an empty beer can in his fist.
“That’s a nice piece of ass you got there, St. Claire. Need help undressin’, baby girl?”
West flashed him a look that sobered him up instantly.
“I will smoke your ass and use the rest of you as munchies if you so much as look her way again,” West drawled, icy venom leaking from his words. His grip tightened on my hand, almost punishingly, like he hated to be put in this position. “Now move. The. Fuck. Away.”