7. Ainsley

Chapter seven

Ainsley

“ W ho does that bitch think she is, talking to us like that?” I seethed.

“Someone who doesn’t know who we are,” Pearce shook his head as he stated the obvious.

I tightened my grip on the ice-cold steering wheel. “She’s going to pay for it.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” Pearce agreed, lighting up a cigarette. He didn’t normally smoke except after killing someone. That girl must have got him really riled up.

I cracked the window, keeping the lights off while we idled in the parking lot.

“What’s your plan?” Pearce asked.

“Why do I have to be the one with the plan?”

“Because we both know the psychological stuff is your department,” he exhaled. “I’m just here for the blood.”

I grin to myself, tapping my lips with my finger. “I say, we show her what happens to girls who don’t respect the Winston brothers. We’re going to teach her a lesson that she’ll never forget.”

***

The little bitch’s shift didn’t end until past midnight, but it was worth the wait.

Finally, the door opened, and she walked out. Typical city girl get-up: fluffy boots, fluffy gloves, fluffy hat — it looked like she murdered a polyester sheep.

I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel. “She doesn’t have a ride?” I wondered out loud.

“Doesn’t look like it.” My brother said.

“Is she stupid?”

Pearce looked at me, the blue light from his phone casting eerie shadows across his face. “So maybe we should be gentlemen and give her a ride.”

I smirked. “Something like that.”

I fired up the engine of our old Jeep and pulled out of the parking lot. I flashed my lights behind her as she struggled to walk in the snow.

Willow turned around, eyes wide like a deer. Her curly hair weighed down my snow. She looked beautiful, in the scared sort of way that gives me a hard-on every time.

I beeped the horn and slowed, letting the tinted window roll down. “Hey, Willow.”

The disgust on her face just made me want to torture her even more. Her eyes flashed with fear. “What do you want?”

I let out a whistle, pretending to be offended. “We were gonna offer you a ride.”

Her expression wavered slightly as she considered it.

It’s a hell of a lot better than walking a mile in the snow – that I was certain.

“No thanks,” she said finally.

That’s when I lost my cool and flung the door open.

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