Broken Wings (Dark Legacy #1)(67)

“Where’s the Bugatti? Not that I’m complaining.” I about died when he told me he had a McLaren in his ten car collection. I ran my hand over the soft leather trim and listened to the sexy purr of the engine. His Bugatti Veyron was my unicorn car, but this baby came a damn close second.

Beck gave me a long side eye. “My Bugatti needed detailing,” he remarked in a dry tone. “Some drunk bitch threw up in it.”

My cheeks heated, and I bit my lip with embarrassment. Whoops.

“Sorry,” I murmured, turning my attention back out the window again. Try as I might, though, it was impossible to ignore the sexy growl of the McLaren engine or the way Beck hugged each corner tight.

My fingers twisted in my plaid skirt, and I clenched my legs tightly together. If I had thought driving with Beck was an erotic experience before sleeping with him… this was something else entirely.

Thankfully, we came to a stop outside the Deboise mansion gates before I could embarrass myself.

“Get out,” Beck ordered me in a voice like ice. His hands gripped the steering wheel in a white knuckled grip while his gray eyes remained locked dead ahead through the windscreen.

He was angry—furious, even—but at fucking what?

“What the hell is your problem, Sebastian?” I demanded. “You mood swing harder than a girl with her period. One minute you can’t keep your hands off me and the next you can’t stand the sight of me. Make up your fucking mind because you’re giving me whiplash.”

Beck said nothing. Did nothing. I may as well have been speaking another language for all the reaction I got out of him. Shaking my head in disgust, I unclicked my belt and popped the door open. “Maybe just leave Evan or Dylan on Riley Duty the rest of the week. I’m sick of navigating your bullshit.”

I stepped out and slammed the car door behind me before stomping toward the Deboise gates. My entire body hurt, and I wasn’t looking forward to running into Catherine in the middle of the day, but Beck and his moods could kiss my ass. A car door slammed behind me, and before I could even turn to look, a pair of strong hands grabbed me. Beck whirled me around and crushed his lips to mine in a wild, possessive kiss that made my whole resolve melt into a puddle of mushy goo at my feet. Blame it on a head injury, but I kissed him back like he was my damn soulmate.

With a growl, Beck pushed me away, and we both stared, our breaths coming out in harsh huffs. “What are you doing?” I pleaded, imploring him with my eyes to fucking make a choice.

He shook his head, hands reaching up to run through all that glorious dark hair. “I don’t fucking know! You’re just everywhere. In my fucking head. I can’t … I need to stop. This is not a world that works with…”

He waved a hand between us.

“Then stay away from me, Beck.”

I was tired. This shit was tiring.

He shook his head, and I was drowning in his eyes. How the hell did they change color the way they did? From the lightest gray to a dark stormy night, which was where he was right now.

“That’s the thing, I’ve tried…”

I barely heard those words and then he spun on his heel and was back in his car. I resisted the urge to both scream and cry, because I was desperate to release all of my angsty emotions to the world, but I wouldn’t give Beck the satisfaction.

When I got inside, my phone started to ring, and for some reason I expected it to be Beck, but it wasn’t.

An unknown number flashed at me, and even though I wouldn’t normally answer it, something compelled me to.

“Hello,” I said.

“Are you home?”

The male voice was familiar, and I relaxed. A part of me had been worried it was going to be a scary call from one of those Huntley fuckers.

“I’m great, Dylan. Thanks for asking,” I replied sweetly.

A beat of silence. “Are you home?”

“Yes,” I said as bluntly. And then I remembered that he had been investigating the creepy guy. “Did you find anything in the mall?”

His reply was instant. “Can’t really talk on the phone, it’s not secure, but … security footage was erased.”

Shit. That had to mean something, because why erase footage if nothing suspect was going on.

“I’ll be there in ten minutes,” Dylan said, and I heard the roar of an engine before the line went dead.

Needing to change before he got here, I dragged myself upstairs and kicked off my shoes. The uniform followed, and I pulled on jeans and a white shirt, tying my long hair back into a loose braid.

When I got downstairs Stewart was opening the door, and it was almost as if our huge front entrance shrunk around the giant badass that was Dylan. When he looked up and saw me at the foot of the stairs, he inclined his head asking me to follow him outside. I nodded, figuring that whatever he wanted to tell me was Delta business.

We walked across the soft grassed area away from the house, and when he stopped, he ran his gaze over me. “I was worried about you,” he said in that quiet, confident way of his. Dylan from the start might have looked like the scariest, but he was the most caring. I’d seen it enough times now to know he was the one that held the others together. Beck was their leader, their fury, their fear. But Dylan was their heart. Loyal. Lethal. And … lonely.

“You think Beck could hurt me?” I asked, because what else could he have worried about.