Chapter 19 #4
“You were going to decapitate me?” Ash asks, holding the beer in his hand and staring through the wall of the plastic terrarium at his frog.
I wonder where he got it from. When he got it.
Aspen (the twin, not the frog) would’ve killed Aspen (the frog, not the twin) if it’d been around when he was.
“That’s it? No torture.” Ash smiles, and it cracks his face, pieces of ice falling off and melting at his feet. Here we go. He’ll defrost quickly.
Just like I said he would. I might not know everything, but I know a hell of a lot.
“You sound disappointed,” Bohnes murmurs as Alexei continues to hold me like we’ve been lovers for decades instead of fifteen seconds.
Widow wanders over to the fridge, one alpha male in another’s territory.
He’s being respectful and cautious, and I appreciate that.
He gets himself a beer, too, and uses the edge of the counter to pop the top off.
“On the contrary. I’m pleasantly surprised. Aspen would never have offered me such a quick and painless death.” Ash takes another handful of blueberries as Bohnes gestures randomly over his shoulder.
“Grab the rest of the fruit,” Bohnes tells Widow, and I tense a little, expecting an argument.
There is none.
Widow collects the other Mason jars and sets them on the table, taking a seat for himself.
I look up and into Alexei’s gaze, those blown glass ornaments he calls eyes fixed on my face.
“We were supposed to go out tonight,” he says, and then his forehead crinkles and his mouth purses. “But that, obviously, is no longer an option. Tomorrow then?”
I don’t know what to say. He’s going to propose to me. I can sense it. I can smell it.
I don’t want to get married. Never did. Hate the whole idea of it.
Literally fucking sickens me. But I’m also not opposed to legally owning half of everything that belongs to Alexei Grove.
His money. His mansion. His Bugatti. Maybe we could get a crane and fish the Lambo out of the McKenzie, eh? His heart.
Hmm. I untangle myself from him, stalking toward the table and combing my fingers through my hair.
“Sleeping arrangements.” I steal Ash’s beer from his hand and down it while Widow watches me swallow like he’s mesmerized by the shape of my throat.
And now I’m looking at his nipples. Alexei’s too as he joins us, neglecting to take either a drink or any of the fruit.
He watches the other boys dig their fingers into the berries—unwashed berries and unwashed hands—churning all of their cooties together.
“Let’s get that out of the way quick. I’ll explain. ”
“Oh, will you?” Bohnes asks mildly, biting into a strawberry and then licking juice from his lips. “In my house?”
“Quiet.” I snap my fingers and ooooh that makes Bohnes mad.
“This isn’t about trying to control you in your own house, this is about our future and our life and I’m fucking telling you all what’s going to happen.
” I turn and meet Alexei’s gaze because I just know he’s going to throw the biggest shit fit over this.
“You’re all here with the understanding that if you try to leave me, I’ll fucking kill you. ”
Silence follows. They’re all staring at me.
“No arguments? Great.” I steal another chair and snatch some blackberries, tossing them back and washing them down with Ash’s beer.
“If you want to leave me, I’ll give you one more chance.
There’s the door.” I point over my shoulder.
Obviously, Bohnes is already my Nightmare so he’s not going anywhere, but just in case.
I look right at Ash, but he only stares at me with obsession-coated eyeballs.
Alexei has pursed lips and a raised chin, like I’ve grievously offended his honor.
“You dare ask such a ridiculous question?” he scoffs, but hey, he did risk his life to save me from an icy river so I can understand the offense.
“One day,” Widow begins in that tone of his that I both despise and that also makes me wet. “You’re going to give birth to my child. You’re wearing my ring. Why would you even say something that stupid?”
I throw a handful of blackberries at him, and he flicks bright eyes up to me, fighting back a tired smile.
“This is Bohnes’ house, so I expect the three of you to respect that.
But we won’t stay here forever. This is the deal.
I’m going to sleep in a bed. You will all sleep in that bed with me.
Every. Single. Night. I’m not going to set up some dumb-fuck sleep-and-sex schedule and put you guys on rotation.
You ain’t sister wives and we’re not on some TLC show, you understand me?
” I look back at Alexei because I know Bohnes can handle this.
Widow will grit his teeth and pound his chest a little, but he’ll adapt. Ash will tame.
Alexei…he already looks pale, fidgeting with the pink gloves on his hands.
“You want me to sleep in a bed with…” He doesn’t finish the sentence.
He looks at the other men, really looks at them, and the reality of this life hits him like a truck.
His skin pebbles with goose bumps. He’ll be kissing me when they’ve kissed me.
Fucking me when they’ve fucked me. Sharing sheets.
Sharing a house. Sharing a life—germs and all.
I watch his pulse speed in his throat. I watch sweat bead on his temples.
Alexei turns away, reaching up a finger and brushing the tip of it across his collarbones, like he’s trying to loosen a collar that he’s not wearing.
“It’s my bed and my house, so for the time being, I will sleep curled around Scarlett like the wrappings of a sexy mummy.
” Bohnes raises his brows suggestively, shoving up to his feet and sending his chair skidding across the rug that covers the hard-packed dirt floor.
“If there are any objections, we’ll take it outside and have a gentleman’s disagreement with some very sharp knives. ”
“Scarlett decides who, when, and where she fucks. You can make whatever rules you want, but we all know it’s goddamn useless.
” Widow meets my eyes as Alexei paces determinedly beside the kitchen counter, rubbing at his chin and peering at the ground like it holds all of the answers.
All the germs, too. “But sure, you’re right: tonight we’re in your bed. Won’t always be the case.”
“Scarlett has decorum and grace. I trust her judgment.” Bohnes ends the conversation while taking a win for himself and for me somehow, too. I appreciate that. I tear myself away from Widow’s undomesticated stare, looking over at Bohnes.
“You trust my judgement, eh? Y’all aren’t off the hook for your track shenanigans just yet.” All eyes—including mine—swing back to Ash.
He looks up from Frog-Aspen’s terrarium to see that we’re all studying him. More nipples for me to not-stare at.
“The mob is going to bloody kill me anyway. This is only a temporary reprieve.” Ash sweeps a hand through his thick, dark hair. “Baka,” he mutters, and I know enough Japanese by now to understand that it means stupid or idiot or something. Pretty sure he’s referring to himself.
“Silence.” I snap the word out and his dark eyes slam into mine. They’re a little too wide. His hands as he rakes them several more times through his hair are still shaky. “Your life is mine, and I’m done with the self-deprecating malaise. Shut the fuck up.”
I stand up.
“May I make a request?” Alexei approaches the table, the weight of his arrogance a palpable character in the room with us. But his hands? Pink-gloved and shaking worse than Ash’s.
“Go for it,” I say, trying not to let the fatigue color my words. I curl my fingers around the back of my chair, arching a cynical brow his way. He looks at me, all of his secrets rising to the surface.
“I would like everyone to shower before getting into bed.” Alexei exhales and shudders, his lip curling before he forces it back into a beautiful plush pink shape of blue-blood and confidence.
Well that’s an easy one. We’re all filthy and covered in forensic evidence.
“Yeah, sure. Boys, make sure you lather those pits and under your balls. Clean your arse.” I roll my eyes as I move around the table and follow Bohnes into the bedroom.
He opens the bathroom door, cracking the cabinet to the left and dragging out a stack of fluffy towels.
He drops these on the edge of the sink and then starts the shower.
It’s not a very big stall, large enough for one dude at a time. Could squeeze me in there maybe, but it’d be a tight fit. Heh. If only. With four guys here, with this being Bohnes’ place, with Alexis dying, I’m not sure I can muster up the energy to sort through fuckboy politics in this state.
“Ladies first.” Bohnes holds out his hand to indicate the stall, and I sigh, kicking off my pants and tearing off my hoodie. I feel the weight of his gaze, but I ignore it. I climb into the water as soon as it’s hot, closing the glass door and leaning my back against the wall.
When I had that feeling, like my time in Prescott as I knew it was coming to an end, I think I was right.
The moment that bullet hit my sister between the eyes, everything shifted.
I wonder what my last picture in this neighborhood will look like? Where I’ll take it. Who’ll be in it with me.
I grab a bottle of shampoo and attack my enormous mane of hair. Vaguely, I’m aware that the boys are having some sort of conversation in the bedroom. Can’t hear ‘em in here so I don’t worry about it. I wash the shampoo out, load up on conditioner, decide that Bohnes has good taste in bath products.
Can’t be a hypocrite so I soap my own pits. Wash my own arse. Use water only on my vulva because the pussy knows what’s up and it doesn’t need soap. Soap only fucks it up, and I’m not about to mess up that magical PH.
I open the door and grab a towel, wrapping it around my nude body and wandering into the bedroom.
The four of them are standing in a circle, arms crossed or hands on hips, conversing in low, tense tones. They look over at me in unison, a flock of psychotic fuckboys with hungry eyes. Black eyes, blue eyes, gold ones, green ones. A kaleidoscope of love, violence, and obsession.
“Shower’s all yours,” I grumble, steam rising from my freshly scrubbed skin.
And then I collapse on the bed and find myself twisted up in dreams of cars and guns and pretty girls with even prettier lipstick. Of boys and blood and bones in a cardboard box. Of crude metal rings and diamonds and mausoleums and a gold dress in a white box.
An uncanny smile twists my lips against the sweet starch of Bohnes’ pillow.
Scarlett Motherfucking Force, over and out.