Page 49 of Wicked Savage Cruel
“What was that for?”
I shrug. “Because I wanted to.”
Emilio, having missed the exchange, talks on about how amazing my mom’s food is and how I’m a greedy bastard who doesn’t share often enough. Some of it is a joke but there’s a thread of painful honesty there too. Emilio’s mom bailed when he was seven, leaving behind her husband and four children. He has two older brothers and a little sister. And let’s just say his dad isn’t the domestic type.
But Emilio’s always been welcome here and my mom loves feeding the fucker. As we eat, Allie relaxes, her smiles coming more easily as Emilio and I bitch and moan about practices. Every now and then she sends me questioning looks. I know she’s waiting for me to ask her what happened back at school, but I want her comfortable first. I’m also waiting for Dominique to show up. I have a feeling I’m going to need all the help I can get to pry the names I need from Allie’s mouth.
When we finish eating I draw Allie back outside to the garage and pull her down beside me as Emilio takes a seat on the opposite couch, his expression now serious. The sun is setting and a cool breeze floats through the open space.
My knee bounces and I’m itching for a smoke but refrain from pulling one out. I haven’t taken a hit since Shadle Creek weekend and it’s better not to blow my little streak.
As soon as Dom’s black Escalade pulls into the driveway, Emilio shifts over to make room for him. Dom steps out in black slacks and a black button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He heads toward us and Emilio whistles at him.
Dom doesn’t react aside from flipping him off. Seeing Dom dressed up isn’t all that unusual. His family is the sort to dress for dinner and use fine china, so I appreciate that he came here straight afterward and didn’t take the unnecessary time to change.
He sits back on the sofa and gives me a look that says,now what?
Allie catches it and turns to look at me. “What’s going on?” Her tone is wary.
I run my fingers through my hair and sigh. “We need to know who jumped you today.”
She starts to stand but I pull her back down beside me. “No more running. Someone hurt you and we want to know who.”
“Why do you care?” she hisses.
Is she kidding me right now? “I care because you're my—”
“I’m notyouranything.”
Clenching my jaw, I cup her face and force her to meet my gaze. “We’ve gone over this. You’re mine. My girl. Got it?” She swallows hard but doesn’t respond. “Anyone who fucks with you is asking to be fucked with by me.”
“Us,” Dom corrects and she whips her head around toward him.
“Why?”
I open my mouth to speak but she cuts me off. “And yeah, I get it. You’re a possessive asshole. I’m yours until you decide I’m not. I know. But we’ve gone over this, too”—she indicates the space between us, a small frown on her face—“and we both agreed this is for fun. We’re passing the time. You don’t need to go all alpha protector on me. I can take care of myself.”
Silence.
No one says a thing as I glare into her dark brown eyes, pretending it doesn’t bother me one bit to hear her say that whatever we have between us doesn’t fucking matter. Like she said, we’re just passing the time. I’m not catching feelings for some girl I barely know and clearly she’s not catching any for me. Good.
I release my grip on her jaw before I add to her bruises and give an exaggerated eye roll. “Stop reading into this, vanilla. If I can’t protect what’s mine then how can I expect anyone to take me seriously. I have a reputation to uphold.”
Emilio opens his mouth to say something but I send him a murderous look, shutting him up.
Allie’s brows furrow as she considers my words with a sigh. “I can handle this on my own.”
“Right. Because you’ve done such a great job already.”
“Will you just drop it?”
All three of us shake our heads.
“We’re going to find out one way or another. Why are you so adamant to face this alone?” Dominique presses.
“Because I can. It’s mean-girl shit. You’re blowing it out of proportion. Just because three girls decided—”
“Three?” Emilio questions and Allie’s eyes widen, realizing her mistake. “Names, Alejandra?” he presses.
