Devil's Game(4)

“Reed,” Dad said casually, jerking his chin toward Jason. “Great season last year. How are things looking so far with the team?”

Jason swallowed, eyes darting between us.

“Um, pretty good,” he said. I opened my locker, wishing desperately that I could crawl inside and die. Or at least disappear for the next four years. Sadly, not even a boobless wonder like me could fit in that metal box.

“Glad to hear it,” Dad replied. He leaned over and kissed the top of my head, then spoke so loud his voice practically echoed. “Enjoy high school, princess. You let me know if any of these guys give you shit, got it?”

I nodded, praying for death. Something fast, merciful. Aneurysm? Yeah, that’d do it.

“Just go,” I whispered.

“I’ll see you tonight,” he replied, then turned and sauntered down the hallway, the colors on his back a grim reminder to everyone who saw us that my dad was president of the Reapers motorcycle club.

Quinn came up next to me and leaned against the lockers, eyes wide.

“Wow,” she said. “Nobody’s gonna ask you to homecoming or anything, you get that, right? And you’re never, ever gonna get laid.”

“I know,” I said, miserable. Not that I wanted to get laid—not quite yet.

But it’d be nice to go to homecoming. I sighed.

“I’m gonna die a virgin, Quinn.”

She nodded gravely, eyes full of sympathy.

“I think that’s a given,” she said. “But look on the bright side.”

“What’s that?”

“Nuns don’t have to wear those penguin costumes anymore, so at least you won’t have to buy all new clothes.”

I looked over at Jason, who was staring at me like I’d grown a second head.

My dad was the meanest parent ever.

Ugh.





EIGHT YEARS AGO

STOCKTON, CALIFORNIA

HUNTER


Natalie wiped off her mouth and looked up at me, her beautiful face sly and calculating. I shoved my softening cock back into my pants and zipped up, pushing forward off the brick wall behind the gas station. Nat rose to her feet, giving me a little smile and biting her lip. I think she was going for playful.

It came off desperate.

“So?” she asked. I raised a brow, questioning.

“So what?”

“Um … I was wondering if you could hook me up?”

Fucking typical. Rich bitches.

Not that I should be surprised. In Natalie’s world, I’d never be more than a quick f*ck with the right connections. That wasn’t a problem. In the end, business is business, and Nat had plenty of money.

“Whatcha lookin’ for?” I asked, hoping she didn’t expect a discount for the blow job. She was okay, but nothing special. She’d been all over me, and who was I to turn down some chick who wanted to suck my cock? Now that she’d swallowed, she’d turned annoying. Before Natalie could answer the question, my phone vibrated.

Kelsey. Shit.

I answered, turning away from Natalie. “Hey, Kels.”

“Jim got laid off at the plant today. You need to get home fast, because he’s drunk and I’m scared.”

My entire body tensed and my vision narrowed. That cocksucking bastard. If he touches her …

“I’ll be there in a few, okay? Stay calm, Kelsey,” I told my foster sister. “Try and get out of the house and take off for the park. If that doesn’t work, lock yourself in the bathroom. Just hang on—I’m coming for you.”

“Okay,” she whispered, and I heard Jim’s loud, booming voice roar in the background. James Calloway was the foster father from hell, not to mention a complete f*cking *. I ended the call and glanced over at Natalie, keeping my face blank. I’d learned the hard way to never give away more than I had to.

“I need to get back home,” I told her. “Can I have a ride?”

She smiled, trying to play coy and innocent.

“Of course,” she said, tracing little circles in the dirt with the toe of those f*ck-me shoes she always wore. They’d seemed a hell of a lot sexier half an hour ago. “But before we go …”

Shit. I didn’t have time for this.

“Give me the f*ckin’ keys,” I said shortly, out of patience. She opened her mouth to protest and I narrowed my eyes, letting them go flat and dead. I’d perfected the look over the years and it never failed. She sucked in a quick breath and dug out her keys, handing them off to me. At six foot three, I knew I was a scary f*cker.