Stroke of Midnight (Cinderella 1)

Once inside my vehicle, I fly out of the circular drive and onto the street.

“Plug your address into my GPS,” I instruct.

She lets out an exaggerated sigh before leaning over to add it in. Once the robotic voice commands me where to go, I cut my eyes over to her. Her arms are crossed over her chest, and her phone is sitting between her thighs.

“Anytime you feel like sending a picture, I’ll pay for them. Day or night.”

“Seriously,” she grumbles. “You’re too much. I’ve had enough for tonight.”

“Pity, because I have so much more to give.”

She’s quiet until we pull up in front of her brownstone. “Until when?”

“What do you mean?”

Her brows are furrowed. “Is this just a fun weekend thing for you?”

“No.”

“So you plan to throw money at me for gross kinks for the rest of the foreseeable future?”

“Unless you have a better plan.”

“Nope,” she snaps. “Just ready for this to be over.”

I study her for a long moment. “I won’t stop until I’ve been inside you.”

“And then you’ll be done?” She narrows her eyes at me. “That simple?”

“Nothing is ever simple, Ash. I’ll simply stop pursing you at that point, because then you’ll be mine. You won’t need to work then.”

“Maybe I don’t want to be yours. Maybe I want to work to earn a living and not be some old rich dude’s plaything.”

“We’ll see,” I say with a grin.

“Yeah, we will.” She flings the door open and storms away.

I’m having the most fun I’ve had in years. There’s no way in hell I’m going to let this one go anytime soon.

8

Ash

I flee from Winston’s car like my ass is on fire. But, like the old phrase goes, “Out of the frying pan and into the fire.” As his ridiculously expensive car drives away, I have to face the nutty triplets.

The music is loud and can be heard outside. I hope one of the neighbors rats them out. As stealthily as possible, I slip inside and rush to the stairs. In my haste, I slam into Sparrow.

I nearly gag at the stench of liquor on his breath.

These psychos are going to be raging alcoholics by the time they can legally drink.

“Excuse me,” I grate out, moving past him.

Rushing up the stairs, I take them two at a time. I’ve almost made it to my room when Sparrow grips my arm, his strong fingers bruising into me.

“Ow,” I yelp. “Let go of me!”

His laughter is dark and demonic, but thankfully he releases me. “I was trying to help, baby sister. But if you’re going to be a bitch about it, whatever.”

My brows furrow in confusion. “Help with what?”

“You’ll see.”

Fear chases away the confusion as I push into my room. The moment I see the open birdcage with no bird inside, I panic.

“Where’s Shrimp?” I screech, spinning to face Sparrow. “Tell me!”

“You should ask Scout.” He smirks at me. “You know he loves that bird.”

He doesn’t love my bird.

He loves terrorizing it.

I shove past Sparrow on a mission to find the bastard. The music and laughter are loud from the living room. I notice Sully is getting his dick sucked by some Pembroke Prep lacrosse groupie, but Scout is missing.

“Hey, sis,” Sully calls out. “Carrie won’t mind giving you a turn next.”

I don’t satisfy him with an answer as I run through the house looking for Shrimp. In Dad and Manda’s room, I find Scout sprawled out on the bed in nothing but his black boxers, a joint in his mouth, one hand petting my bird.

“Hand him over, dickhead,” I growl. “You know you’re not allowed to mess with him.”

“Says who?” he asks around the joint. “Your daddy? He’s your father, not mine. I don’t have to listen to jackshit he says.”

I storm over to the bed, climb on, and walk on my knees toward him. “Give him to me.”

Shrimp is strangely quiet, just like any time he’s in Scout’s presence. My heart hurts to see him so afraid. I try to take him from Scout, but his grip tightens. Tears well in my eyes as fear consumes me. He wouldn’t hurt my bird, would he?

“Please,” I beg, blinking back my emotion. “Please, Scout.”

“Tell me where you were.”

“At dinner with a friend.” I swipe away a stray tear. “He’s scared. Let me have him.”

“What friend? I thought we told them all to stay away.”

First Tate and now my friends? I’m too upset to be angry. Once I get my bird back, I’ll rip them all new assholes.

“Sully said you had a boyfriend. That’s not true, is it?” His dark eyes glint with madness. “Our baby sister isn’t allowed to date.”

“Not a boyfriend,” I rush out. “A friend. Now please let him go.”

He releases his hold on Shrimp, but before I can scoop him up, he flies to the ceiling fan, ruffling his feathers. Scout grabs me, yanking me to him. The joint falls from his lips onto the bed. I struggle in his arms, growling in frustration when I can’t free myself. He rolls us until he has me pinned beneath his strong body. Terror wells up inside of me.