Savage Sinners (Elites of Macedon High 3)

“I’m okay.”

“You sure?”

I shrug while drifting back an inch to look into his eyes. He’s as concerned as Tomas—which means he must have filled Tomas in about the events of the past week.

“Yeah,” I whisper. I try to smile, but it’s too tense, feeling more like a strained grimace. “Go sit down. We have a lot to talk about.”

The boys sit at the round antique table with me, each of them holding a teacup. It should be comical how we’re seated like knights at a round table, but it’s the farthest thing from amusing, a reminder of what we’re facing.

But at least we’re facing it together.

“An enemy to one of us is an enemy to all,” Soren states firmly. “It looks like my father is dead, which means the lot of us are now sole inheritors of our estates.”

“That puts us in some interesting positions,” Tomas states, smoothing his recently cut hair out of his forehead. I blink in surprise when I notice his lip ring is gone. His tattoos are hidden by a trim suit, one that boasts his athletic body while remaining professional. “But it just makes me want to leave faster.”

I nod while holding his gaze. He looks sober and clearheaded. That’s good. “Coach Neill’s death hurts, but it hasn’t stopped me. It just makes me want vengeance even more.”

“So, we get vengeance,” Parker announces. “And we do plenty of other things on the side to keep the ball rolling.”

Soren leans forward and folds his fingers together. “How do you propose we do that?”

“We’re in charge of our estates and all the business deals that come with them. We should make some moves to secure our funds before we head for the West Coast.”

“That’s good thinking,” Tomas agrees. “I could squeeze a few deals. Easily. Alex?”

I shake my head. “I’m tired of petty deals. Information is so much more powerful than drugs, guns, and whores.”

“What are you saying?” Soren asks.

Parker and Tomas share a look of curiosity but largely remain quiet.

I lean forward, tracing the handle of my teacup as I say, “It’s time to trade in our secrets, boys. Macedon is such a small town, too small for the likes of us. Why don’t we conquer the world instead?”

Parker smiles victoriously. It’s strange seeing that grin on his face because of something I’ve said instead of something he’s taken. And while I’m mildly alarmed, I’m proud, too, realizing what a testament that is to him changing for the better. He’s not just in this for his inheritance or for my pussy—he’s in it for so much more.

“That’s a fine idea, precious,” he praises. “What secrets do we want to trade?”

“How many contracts do you have? All of you?”

The boys tally up their dealings, going through what they own and run individually as well as together. In all, the mountain of secrets we guard of business dealings in Macedon is enough to earn us riches beyond our wildest dreams. We could run a whole fucking country with what we know between us.

“And the Persian,” Tomas says, “needs to be taken care of, too.”

“Of course,” I agree. “No loose ends. No chances.”

Parker hums in agreement. He taps the antique table and states, “We have to kill him—and I think I know how we can do it.”

Tomas and Soren perk up as Parker recounts what he told me—that the Persian approached him with a request to kill the Sanderson brothers.

“We avenge our girl, handle my father’s murderers, and we pin the Persian at the same time.”

“And Amos?” Tomas asks. “What do we do with him?”

“Kill him,” Soren replies quickly. “I’ll handle that.”

“I’ll handle the Sanderson brothers and get Mikhail to help,” Parker offers. “Which leaves the Persian to Tomas.”

Tomas rubs his chin. “I can handle that.”