Then he turned to me and held out his arm, a beautiful, miraculous grin stretching his lips for the second time tonight. “Ready, Princess?”
“Fuck, yes.”
I looped my arm around his, and we strode from the building quickly, bursting through the doors at the front of the school into the cool night air. We caught sight of Bishop’s car pulling into the lot almost as soon as we stepped outside, and the two of us made a beeline toward it, racing across the parking lot and throwing ourselves inside. Bish gunned the engine and peeled out onto the street, shooting me a curious sidelong glance as he did.
“What’s so funny?”
It wasn’t until he asked the question that I realized I was laughing breathlessly, out of breath and disheveled after fucking and fighting. I turned to him, feeling the weight that had been crushing my soul for the past few months disintegrating. Lifting away. Letting me take a full breath for the first time in weeks.
“I’m done.” I turned sideways so I could face the back seat too. Kace had heard me say this to Barrett already, but I wanted him to hear it again. And I wanted Misael to hear. I wanted them all to know. “I’m done pretending my father will ever come around. That there’ll ever be any way out of this except the one I’m taking. To just fucking refuse.”
Misael’s eyes widened, and he leaned forward in his seat. But Bishop turned to look at me before cutting his gaze back to the road.
“It won’t be that simple, Coralee. You know that, right? I mean, it’s one thing to tell your dad no. It’s another thing entirely to deal with the fallout after you deny him.”
For a second, the weight in my chest returned, almost paralyzing me with worry. That was why I had been so dead-set on finding another solution—on making Dad think it was his idea to call off the wedding, and that he was still winning where it counted. Because this? Outright telling him no? It could be dangerous for all of us.
“I know.” I reached across the console and grabbed his hand. “But I don’t care anymore. Unless you don’t want me to—”
“Are you fuckin’ kidding?” He squeezed my hand so hard it almost hurt, fire flashing in his eyes as he turned his head to look at me. “Of course we want you to. We’re not lettin’ that King fucker have what’s ours. We just need to make sure you stay safe, is all.”
I heard Kace give a grunt of agreement from the backseat, and a second later, Bishop released my hand to reach over and palm the back of my head, dragging me toward him and kissing me hard.
Adrenaline flowed through me, lighting me up from the inside as my lips pressed against his. The ache in my body from Kace’s cock, the pain in my knee from hitting Barrett, the speed of the car, and the scent of Bishop’s aftershave in my nose—it all made me feel perfectly, wonderfully alive.
I gripped Bishop’s arm, holding on for dear life as the car sped down the street.
“Alright, alright. Don’t fuckin’ kill us, Bish,” Misael joked from the back seat, and Bishop reluctantly released me, turning to put his attention on the road.
I was breathing harder, my lips tingling, and when Misael leaned around the seat and tilted my head toward his with two fingers on my chin, my greedy mouth found his immediately. I chuckled into the kiss, certain that his words to Bishop earlier had been as much about wanting to do this as about driver safety. I liked that the boys didn’t fight over me, but I also liked that they all wanted me and made no secret of that fact.
He ended the kiss and pressed a peck to the tip of my nose, then grinned broadly. “You look hot as fuck in that dress, Coralee. Where do you want to go to celebrate?”
I pursed my lips, considering. Then a smile spread across my face. “Dancing. I want to go dancing.”
The atmosphere in the car shifted, seeming to grow hotter. The last time the four of us had gone dancing, I’d ended up having sex with Kace and Misael in the back seat of this very car. Grinding and moving against the three of them on the dance floor had gotten me so worked up we’d barely made it to the car at all before I’d attacked them.
“I like the sound of that,” Kace said, his voice taking on a tone that made a shiver run down my spine.
“Me too.” Misael cocked an eyebrow at me as he settled back in his seat.
“Dancin’ it is, then.”
Bish drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, then hung a left onto another street. We were entering Baltimore’s more run-down neighborhoods, where the street lights became spottier and more graffiti covered the walls of buildings. The streets were more empty too. We’d have to cut back toward the downtown area to get to any good clubs.
I looked down at my dress. It was a full-length gown, formal and elegant, and even though it was undeniably beautiful, it didn’t exactly look like club-wear. “Do you think I’m overdressed?”
“Nah.” Misael chuckled. “Although, hell, I’ve got a knife on me. If you want, I can modify it for ya before we go in.”
A laugh burst out of me as I had a sudden memory of taking a pair of scissors to all the clothes in my closet after my first day at Slateview, in an attempt to fit in better with the other kids there. This time, though, the modifications wouldn’t be about putting on a costume. They’d be about removing my bindings. About freeing myself.
“Yeah.” I grinned, craning my neck to look at him. “I’d like that.”
It was only because I was facing that direction that I saw it—a flash of movement outside the car on the driver’s side.
But it didn’t matter whether I saw it or not.
Because by the time I did, it was too late.