Chapter 4
FOUR
The townhouse is quiet when I wake up the morning after my trauma-induced sabbatical.
Ash is still wrapped around me, my cheek is pillowed by Harley’s hand, and I can hear Blaise’s soft snoring so I know he’s close by.
The bed is definitely not big enough for all four of us, it barely fits three, but when the clawing ache of hunger drags me out of bed, I find him on one of the reclining lounge chairs that he’s dragged into the hall.
My chest gets tight with an emotion I can’t label, at the thought of the panic he must have felt, that even a few extra feet of distance was too much while I was so clearly losing my shit.
I have to swallow around the lump in my throat to stop myself from breaking in half all over again.
Avery is already in the kitchen, fussing with the coffee machine that was way too complicated for me to figure out.
She shoots me a conspiratorial grin over her shoulder, her Chanel robe wrapping her up into polished perfection, and the tired smile I give her is enough reassurance that she turns back to the machine without comment.
I dig through the fridge until I can find something we both agree on for breakfast, but when she offers to help I turn her down.
Coffee is a necessity for the survival of both myself and everyone I encounter today, so getting that machine running is a matter of National Security at this point.
My eyes practically roll into the back of my head as it finally starts making that grinding-groaning sound of success, and when we’re finally sitting down with a plate of eggs and a steaming cup each in front of us, Avery cackles when I take my first sip and almost weep with joy.
Joke’s on her, though, because I have no shame about it; nobody on this Earth can make my coffee as well as she can.
“What’s going to happen now the Vulture is dead?”
Her tone is still drenched in affection, and the soft smile is still on her face, and despite yesterday’s clusterfuck, it’s business as usual.
I fucking love her for it, too. She’s not ignoring my trauma, and there’s no fake bullshit going on right now, either.
She’s seen it and accepted it, but she can also obviously tell that the worst thing she could do right now is try to talk about it, so instead, she’s going to talk business while she sips her coffee and nibbles delicately at her breakfast.
For the record, I eat mine like an animal; zero fucks given.
With something concrete to focus on, clearing my head a little, I murmur back to her easily with a shrug.
“They’ll run the Game again, but it’ll take three or four months before it even starts…
at least six before we have a new member.
A lot of palms have to be greased before they can start, and the Vulture’s empire needs to be assessed, divided, and dismantled. ”
Avery cocks her head at me, her brow furrowing a little. “How does that work? Who decides that?”
The depth of jaded exhaustion in the sigh that rushes out of me is something no eighteen-year-old should be capable of, but this city has done a number on me.
“The Crow and the Jackal will go head-to-head for it, I guess. No one else has any interest in selling skin, and it’ll be another full-time operation to take on.
The Jackal would love nothing more than adding skin to his empire.
The Crow… I don’t know. He’ll want to take it on just so the Jackal doesn’t get bigger than him, but I don’t see him keeping it.
He’s not… how do I say this… he’s ruthless.
He’s cold, clinical, and he won’t hesitate.
It’s what’s made his empire the only real rival to the Jackal’s, but he’s not a predator.
I’ve seen what the Jackal does to girls, I know what he’ll do if he takes over the Vulture’s work.
I can’t see the Crow selling unwilling skin.
Running willing girls, hell yeah, but importing kidnapped teenagers to drug and sell off? Nope.”
Avery’s face twists in disgust and her eyes slide away from me as she shudders. “I don’t want to think about how much money my father has spent at those auctions.”
I grimace. I don’t either, and I definitely don’t love the reminder of how much work I still have to do on the Beaumont front.
Fuck, I’m still pretty much at square one and I’ve only really made strides with the O’Cronin bunch.
Having Illi around may become a blessing beyond his ability to kill, and I start to mentally make a list for him, losing myself a little as I think over the order of priority.
“How’s the bed sharing going? I haven’t been woken in the middle of the night to sounds of moaning so I’m assuming you haven’t jumped straight into group sex.”
I choke so hard on my coffee that it comes out of my fucking nose. My eyes water as Avery screeches with laughter and I decide I’m breaking up with her.
Mopping up the mess with the napkin she ever-so-helpfully hands me, I still send her a look as I croak, “Harley decided to tell the others I’m inexperienced, so they’ve become giant fucking teases.”
And, fuck me, are they good at it.
Blaise has refused to wear a shirt inside the house since arriving and I’ve been fucking dying over it.
Harley enjoys watching me squirm, his eyes smoldering and intense, undressing me and fucking me with one damn look, but when I’ve approached him, he’d back off.
I’m terrified to even think about what Ash is going to add into the mix, because he’s never been the type to be outdone, and the tactics he’s resorted to while we’ve been long-distance were brutal enough.
I think they want me to beg.
I also think I’m going to.
Avery cocks an eyebrow at me. “Well, if you want to break Ash, just put on some of the lace he picked out for you. I still can’t believe you didn’t realize how much he wanted you back then. He insisted on picking out your damn panties, for Christ's sake.”
I shake my head at her but she only cackles back.
She’s been giving me shit about it since the day she joined me in the bathroom and laid it all out for me. I consider it for a second and then smirk at her.
“Wanna help me get back at them? Beat them at their own game?”
She quirks an eyebrow at me over the rim of her cup. “Always, Mounty.”
I lied. I’m never letting this evil queen go.
After we finish eating, Avery scrubs every inch of the kitchen with a manic grin plastered on her face and the sort of zealous energy that only she could have about soapy water and a pot scrubber.
I keep her company while I make it through my second cup of coffee, gossiping and catching up, but by my third, she’s elbows deep, scrubbing out the oven and I leave her to it as she hums happily under her breath.
I’m tucked up in the lounge, taking notes from my chemistry textbook before there are any signs of life out of the guys.
Whether Avery threatened him, or if he’s just relieved that I’ve rejoined the land of the living and doesn’t want to jinx it, Harley doesn’t acknowledge yesterday at all, his eyes giving me a quick once-over before he kisses me with just a little too much tongue for Avery’s liking, if the textbook that’s flung at his head says anything.
I’m still a little awkward about… all of it, really, and I’m blushing like an idiot when Ash saunters out of our room, Avery’s lecture loud enough to wake him up, too.
Checking me out, he’s about as subtle as Harley was but when he ducks down to kiss me as well, his goes beyond a bit of tongue.
It’s downright porn and I have to cut him off before his sister actually kills him.
Apparently, he takes offense to that and decides the only way forward is to melt my brain and my damned panties, until I don’t have enough neurons firing to consider our surroundings.
He ever-so-casually tells us he’s heading out for a run, nodding along with my list of routes to take and places to avoid agreeably, before he ducks back into our room to change.
Then that motherfucker walks out in the tiniest pair of fucking shorts I have ever seen on a man.
If I thought the kiss was porn, well, that was past-Lips talking.
Naive and sheltered Lips who didn’t realize that a man’s legs and ass could look like that.
His eyes are a searing brand on my skin as he takes in the absolute mess I’m in, smirking triumphantly before blowing me a kiss and walking out instead of doing something about the puddle I’ve become, like the dick that he is.
When I finally regain my senses after he’s locked the front door behind him, I tell Avery to order fifty fucking pairs of them and she gags at me dramatically.
My cheeks on fire, I shove my headphones into my ears and lose myself in my studies, where my energy is best spent and won’t have me making an idiot of myself.
Harley joins me without interruption, spreading out on the floor in front of me so he can lean against my legs each time he takes a break and stretches.
When Ash gets back from his run, he takes a shower I refuse to think about, and then splays himself on the couch with me, his head in my lap as he takes a nap.
It’s strangely comforting instead of distracting, and I practically devour my textbooks.
Once Blaise finally wakes up, looking every part the rumpled Devil-may-care rock god that he is, even as he’s blinking blearily around at us all, Avery declares that she’s made dinner reservations for us all at a restaurant on the nice side of the city and then shepherds me into her room to get ready.
It’s barely four in the afternoon, so I have no idea why it would take us three hours to get ready. I grumble this at her.
She clutches her stomach as she laughs at me.
It takes even longer.