13. Lex
13
LEX
I t’s dark outside, the moon high in the sky, and the three of us are in the living room of the mansion.
Saint is lying on the couch on his back, tossing a small but wickedly sharp flick knife up into the air. The metal glints in the light from the small chandelier overhead as it spins, and he catches it again skillfully before it has the chance to stab him in the chest.
Zane is bent over one of his many notepads, scribbling something in it. He’s concentrating, hard, a couple of lines forming between his brows and his nostrils flaring. I don’t know what he’s writing—it’s not for our eyes. He’ll show us if he wants to, and neither of us would be stupid enough to try to read it without Zane’s consent.
The mansion was derelict when we first found it, but over the past couple of years we’ve worked hard to restore it. It’s not suitable for full-time living—not yet, anyway—but it’s definitely comfortable enough to hang out in. The walls even have wood paneling now, thanks to Zane’s skills, and he’s made half the furniture, too. The coffee table he has his feet rested upon was made by his own hands.
The other two seem chill, but I’ve got an itch inside me that needs scratching. It doesn’t take a genius to work out that the itch has been caused by the short, feisty girl I met today. For some reason, I can’t seem to get her out of my head. It’s those curves, combined with the tattoos, and the attitude. It’s also that I know she grew up in an MC, which should make her hard as hell, but deep down, I think there’s a good girl underneath the surface. The way she answered all the questions in class wasn’t because she was trying to show off; it was because she was trying to please.
I love a girl who wants to please. They’re always so fucking responsive.
“So,” I say, trying to sound casual, “I know her dad’s an ass, but what do we all make of the new girl?”
Saint’s head snaps up. “She doesn’t come from our class of family—you can tell just by looking at her, but maybe that makes her more interesting.”
“You know she’s got the dean putting her into the men’s classes?” I say. “She’s some kind of fucking math whizz.”
“Beauty and brains,” Saint snorts.
I roll my eyes.
Zane takes out his notepad and jots something down. I lean in to read it.
She won’t be here for long.
I arch an eyebrow. “What makes you say that?”
He writes in his pad again.
If we don’t scare her off, the other girls here will. They’re not going to stand for someone like her trying to fit in. They’ll cut her down to size pretty damned fast, and it’s not like she’s got much height to start with. We need to have our fun while we can.
I consider his words. “Fun with her? As tempting as that sounds, is it wise? She’s from a fucking biker club, and you already got threatened.”
“What club do they belong to?” Saint asks.
Zane leans over his notepad again. According to the back of their cuts, they’re the Jackal Riders MC, from upstate New York.
I give a low whistle. “ Merde. They are ruthless motherfuckers, from what I’ve heard.”
I’ve heard the same.
“And the girl we want to mess with is the daughter of the leader. I can’t decide if that makes us crazy or brave.” Saint chuckles. “Maybe a bit of both.”
I agree with him. “We need to be careful. Did you see how many she arrived with? We don’t want her running back to Daddy, crying about how some of us have been mean to her.”
Okay, so we play it nice at first, Zane writes.
Well, that’s dull,” Saint says.
I only said at first . He underlines the words in a hard stroke to make his point. We make her trust us until she’s in too deep, and then we turn the tables on her.
Saint throws the knife again. “I can be nice to her. I can be really nice to her.”
Yeah, right. Saint might act like he’s a decent guy, but when he really gets down to it, he’s anything other than decent. I’ve heard how he talks to women when he gets them in bed. The names he calls them. How he makes them beg. If he makes them cry, all the better.
I’m the one who talks them through it, who tells them how well they’re doing, and wipes away their tears.
I’m the one who stops them from running, but that’s normally because I have them bound in rope.
I find myself smiling at the thought.
“Anyway, we can take on a fucking MC,” Saint continues, “or at least our families can. It’s not as though those guys are known for their brains. Brawn, maybe, and they’re loyal as fuck, but that’s about all.”
We’ve already invited her to join us tomorrow evening. We can make it nice for her then , Zane writes.
I twist my lips as I think. “I don’t know. Is she really going to give in to all three of us? She seems like the type who’ll speak her mind and won’t just go along with things.”
My twin brother shrugs. “We all have needs—her included. If we get her heated up enough, I bet she’ll burn. Besides, I want to see what other tattoos she’s got hidden under those clothes.”
I chuckle at that. He’s not the only one, I’m sure. I’d love to peel her clothes off while the other two watch, strip her slowly, revealing every inch of her skin. Then, when I get her naked, I’ll bring out my ropes.
All of a sudden, the future is looking a little more interesting.