Savage Little Lies by Eden O’Neill

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Sloane

“We’re not staying very long.” I didn’t want to come at all really, but Bru convinced me otherwise about the pizza night tonight.

He’d called me a lame-ass, and after nearly punching him out cold, I decided to get up and go. I didn’t want to go, God did I not want to, and I told my brother that all the way over to Ares’s house. We’d just gotten to his wrought-iron gate, and after pulling in front of the house, my brother turned off his Audi.

He scoffed. “We’re going to leave when we’re both ready.” Since that wasn’t our deal, I frowned, and his eyes lifted. “What’s your problem? I thought you and Mallick were cool.”

We had been cool until he’d gotten all weird at lunch. I shook my head. “I’m not staying long.”

“Well, then your ass is calling a ride share.” Bru got out of his car, and I growled. Our vehicle wasn’t the only one in front of Ares’s big-ass house. I noticed Dorian’s ride and Thatcher’s and Wells’s too.

Ares’s Hummer wasn’t there, but I assumed he’d parked in the garage since this was his house. I caught up to my brother on the home’s steps. “Bruno, I’m not joking.”

“And I’m not joking about your butt finding a ride.” He sighed. “Just chill for one goddamn night. Odds are, you and Dorian will be all over each other anyway.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“What doesn’t it mean?” His eyebrows wagged. “Ever since he got you all mushy on the football field, you guys have been inseparable.”

He may be right about that, but that’d been before our last night together.

The pressure from that moment was still there, and I hoped we could all just hang out tonight. I wanted to commit to Dorian…

I loved Dorian.

I’d stupidly managed to fall for the dark prince, but my head was telling me another thing. I physically couldn’t tell him what he needed to hear like something inside me was tugging me back. I was on a tether, and Dorian Prinze was the goal just out of reach.

I braced my arms. “I’m here for Bow too. She’s my friend.”

“Oh, I’m sure of it.” Bru came down a step. “But dare I say, she might be pretty lonely tonight? I’m sure Dorian will have all your attention.”

My lips closed.

Bru arched an eyebrow. “If I didn’t know any better, sis, I’d say you were in love with Dorian Prinze.”

He mussed my hair like an asshole, and I stayed back. I wondered if he wasn’t the only one having these thoughts.

I wondered if it was that obvious. I wondered if I wore it all over me as deep as it was felt.

I hoped I didn’t. Because even though Dorian was practicing patience, he might not for long, knowing I really truly did feel the same way. I couldn’t ever see him pressure me, but that wasn’t what scared me. What if he gave me another ultimatum?

And what if this time he meant it?

“Sup, kid?”

The door was open, Ares Mallick standing at it. My brother must have knocked because currently he tapped the fist of his teammate.

It was always weird seeing the boys out of their academy uniforms, Ares in a T-shirt and jeans. I’d obviously seen him up to his elbows in paint, but casual Ares jarred me. It was like those days we used to work together. We’d had so much fun, but that seemed like so long ago.

This seemed even more the case considering the way he’d treated me at lunch. I took a step, and he appraised my jeans and hoodie. Actually, he focused on me for a good long second, a frown pinching his lips. He hiked an arm against the doorframe. “Last to arrive, little. Any reason for that?”

I wanted to take my high-top and literally shove it down his throat for that. He obviously was still going through his PMS. I started to say something, but my brother got in front of me. “We both took a while getting ready. Sorry.”

He lied for me, but since this was my fault, I stayed quiet.

A deep “hmm” passed between Ares’s lips. He opened the door, telling my brother it was cool. Warm air touched my cheeks when Ares allowed my brother and me into his space, and immediately the spicy notes of fall and pumpkin spice hit my lungs. The foyer had been decorated with a fall theme, and the place felt homey right away. It was like a family lived here and not an angsty teen who had nothing but raging parties.

“Everyone is in the living room,” Ares stated, eyeing me again. I didn’t know his deal, but I didn’t care enough to ask him about it. “We already ordered the pizzas. Got a bunch of options. The delivery guy said about a half hour.”

“Cool.” My brother had his hands in his pockets. Ares immediately started walking us through his large home, and Bru caught up. “Eh, Wolf. Your parents going to be around? Haven’t met them. Just wondering.”

I’d met his mom but not his dad, curious too.

Ares angled around. “No. Mom’s been working late since she’s got her two gigs.” For some reason, that warranted another appraisal like that was my fault. He faced my brother. “Dad’s been hanging there with her at night. Brings her dinner, and they spend time together.”

Well, that was ridiculously sweet and nothing this guy would ever do. His parents seemed, well, normal.

With that, Ares brought us into his living room, and the place looked quite different without a bunch of partygoers. Bow, Dorian, and the gang were all in there, but people weren’t lining the walls like they’d been. Just Ares’s couches.

With the appearance of my brother and me, Bow bounced off the couch. She immediately hugged me in a squeeze. “Saved you a seat.”

She’d been sitting near Dorian on the biggest couch, and the dark prince grinned from his seat next to Thatcher.

Dorian looked delicious, of course, his T-shirt tight across his broad chest, and whenever he wore jeans, I paid attention probably more than I should. He slapped Thatcher’s chest. “She’s eye-fucking me again, bro. What do I do?”

Fucking bastard.

I started to pivot around, but he grabbed me and tugged me onto his lap. He got a hand full of my ass and caused the rest of the room to groan. Especially my brother.

“This going to be a thing all night, you think?” Bru tossed the words at Thatcher, but he smiled.

Still, he was being an asshole. I flipped him off, and he passed that off to slap Thatcher’s hand.

Thatcher snapped after. “Well, considering my boy is in love… I’d say that’s a given.”

My heart stopped, and Dorian sneered in his direction.

Thatcher raised his hands. “Please, bro. You didn’t even have to tell us.”

“It’s so goddamn obvious.” Wells stated this from his seat on the only other couch in the room. He lounged on it, his leg over one of the arms. He had his thumbs speed-typing across his phone and hadn’t even looked up. “Like ridiculously obvious.”

I nearly fell off Dorian’s lap when he shot a pillow at Wells so hard the guy fell to his ass on the floor. He like legit rolled off the couch, his phone flying. Dorian had apparently put some oomph into it, and Thatcher exploded in so much laughter he almost fell off the couch. Dorian directed a finger at Wells. “You shut the fuck up, or I’ll make you shut the fuck up.”

“Jesus, bro. I was just messing with you.” Wells rubbed his bottle-blond locks, his grin wiry. He got back on the couch. “I mean, this is only love in your direction.”

“Yeah.” Dorian growled it before his arms cradled me back into him. He glanced my way. “Sorry.”

Both his look and tone were apologetic, and I hated that. I hated that he felt sorry. Even if he hadn’t been talking to his friends about us.

I said nothing, and at this point, the room had settled enough where no objects were being thrown about. Bow sat at my side, but before Ares took a seat himself, he stood in front of the room. He clasped long fingers on his big arms. “And with that, we got some fucking rules tonight.” He directed a look at Thatcher and Wells. “Especially with you two fuckers.”

Thatcher and Wells exchanged a glance, and Ares snarled.

“The last time we got together, shit got crazy, and I’m not trying to clean up after you fools.” Ares ticked a finger. “So rule number one is you eat off anything, you fucking clean it.”

Wells snorted. “Well, that means Thatcher will be in the kitchen all fucking night.”

Picking up Dorian’s discarded pillow, Thatcher shot it at Wells, but Wells was quicker this time. He caught it, then reached over and slammed it on Thatcher’s head. Thatcher firmly lost his shit, and the only thing keeping him from retaliating was Ares’s bark at the front of the room.

Ares glared at the two. “Rule number two is no one outside of this room is coming in this house. Which means no calling fuck buddies over.”

Thatcher kicked his boot at Wells. “Wells, you better take your ass home, brother. We know he’s talking about you.”

Wells clicked his tongue. “The fuck ever and don’t get jealous because my fuck buddy pool is a ten when yours is like a five—at best.”

“Who haven’t both you two assholes fucked?” Ares’s brow lift was slow. “I’m still trying to get the stains out of shit the pair of you left the last time you were here.”

“Me too.” Dorian lifted a finger. Dorian tipped his chin at Thatcher. “And, Thatch, we all know the rule applies to both of you.”

Thatcher frowned. “What we all know is we’re not the only ones.” Thatcher waved a hand between him and Wells.

Wells’s smile was coy when he placed it in Dorian’s direction. He eyed him. “At least that used to be the case for all of us.”

Dorian’s smile wiped away. He sat up, but when I shifted, he stayed in place. I glared at Wells. “You, fucker, are a cocky son of a bitch.” I glanced at Thatcher. “Same goes for you, and there’s nothing wrong with not having to get your dick wet whenever the invitation’s open.” My eyebrows narrowed. “So why don’t you both lay the fuck off Dorian? Off us?”

They had no right, but what I hadn’t expected was both Thatcher and Wells to angle back.

Nor gain the rest of the room’s attention.

Dorian had his brow up, obviously surprised by me jumping in and defending him.

You defended both of you.

Wells raised his hands. “Sorry, princess,” he said before nodding at Dorian. “It seems we’ve crossed your queen.”

“And don’t do it again.” Dorian’s hand settled at my waist. He smiled at me, and something about it felt knowing. Something else about it had butterflies buzzing in my stomach.

They weren’t bad.

“So rule number three, then,” Ares said, watching us. He nodded. “No wandering the house and getting into shit. I don’t need anything fucking broken, and my parents getting on me for it. You respect my stuff and my space.” He glanced my way. “And I respect you.”

Like a few things tonight, I had no idea where Ares’s attention was coming from. Maybe it was because my brother and I were pretty new in his space,but Bru or I had never given Ares a reason to think we’d destroy anything.

I recalled him being very territorial the last time I was over here as well. He kept us outside the whole time when we painted.

Ares took a seat next to Wells with a grunt, and Dorian slow-clapped for him.

“Nicely delivered TedTalk, buddy,” he joshed, and Ares grumbled.

Ares lifted a hand.

“Just don’t want anyone fucking with my shit.” He settled back. “We all do that, and we’re cool.”

The room got rather quiet then, awkward, and that may be why Dorian got the guys to start up a video game. The pizza still wasn’t here yet, and he suggested the game while we waited. The boys were just starting to get it geared up when I got up. I needed to go to the bathroom.

“Want me to go with you?” Dorian got up, and even Bow asked, but I remembered where at least one of the bathrooms was in this house. I’d been here before.

I told both him and Bow no and stepped past Ares. He’d been getting additional controllers set up. He stopped in front of me. “Where are you going?”

“The bathroom, that okay?” I crossed around him. “I remember where it is. Down the hall, right?”

“Yeah, but—”

I started to go, but he crossed in front of me again. I rolled my eyes. “Ares, I know where it’s at.”

“And this is a big fucking house.” His lips pulled tight. “D or I should take you.”

“I already told him I had it covered.” Again, I crossed in front of him. “Lay off. I won’t break anything.”

I left him standing there, and it was by the grace of God he actually let me go by myself. The guy was being super anal about his stupid fucking rules.

I felt his eyes on my back the whole way, and when I eventually did come out, I was surprised he wasn’t waiting outside the door for me. I started to go back to the others, but stopped when I took a second to admire all the art pieces on the walls. I’d noticed them when I passed them initially, but with Ares’s eyes on my back, I couldn’t study them.

I did now, truly in awe of them. There was lots of metalwork gracing the walls, bent steel in abstract pieces. I’d never done anything like that myself, and I wondered if Ares had created these.

“There you are.”

Wells came sauntering down the hallway, his hands in his pockets. His grin easy, he angled in beside me. “His Majesty asked me to see what the holdup was with you.”

My eyes narrowed. “Dorian asked that?”

“Nah, Wolf.” Wells scrubbed into his hair, my brow twitching up. “Guy’s on hundred today about these fucking rules. Wanted to make sure you didn’t get lost on your way back.”

Oh, dear God. I growled. “What the fuck is his problem?”

“Don’t know, but it’s probably us, Thatcher and me,” Wells stated, chuckling. “I guess you break a thing or two in your buddy’s house, and he gets some kind of way.”

Apparently.

Wells glanced at the artwork. “Wolf probably should have assumed this would hold you up, though.” He grinned, folding his arms. “He’s an artist just like you, and this shit is so sweet.”

He was right about that. I studied the angles. “I didn’t know he was into this kind of stuff. Well, this kind of art.”

“This one looks like his pop’s actually.” Wells hiked an arm against the wall, staring up. He pointed at a corner of the piece. “His dad’s name is on this one. Ramses Mallick.”

Leaning in, I did see the R and M bent into the work. “He likes to work with metals?” I recalled Ares saying his dad was an artist.

“Oh, yeah,” he said, putting his fingers to his lips. He waved. “Wolf will kill me, but his dad keeps the good stuff in his home studio. Come on. We’ll take a quick peek. Wolf won’t even notice.”

I didn’t know how I felt about that. Especially since Ares was acting crazy right now.

The artist in me was intrigued, though, so I did follow the tall football player farther into the house. We didn’t go far, just navigating a couple halls. On the way, Wells was smart and texted Ares the toilet was backed up. He wanted to give Ares an excuse so he didn’t freak out and come looking for us.

Wells’s cover was that he was currently helping me plunge it, and Ares apparently didn’t want to fuck with that. He just barked at him to hurry the hell up, and the tone of the text was just as aggressive as hearing him say it.

“He’s straight trippin’ right now,” Wells said when we arrived at the art studio’s door. There was a lock on it, I guess, a finger pad above the knob.

I pointed at it. “Why’s there a lock?”

Wells waved that off. “Ramses put it on when we were kids. We kept messing around in there.”

“Uh, should we be going in there now, then?” It was one thing to take a peek, but if Ares’s dad minded…

Again, Wells passed that off, and my brow jumped when he keyed in the code. The lock clicked, and he pushed the door open. He waggled his eyebrows. “It’s fine. Wolf would care more than Ramses. His dad’s so busy he like never works in here anymore, and Wolf’s more protective over everything than he is. I think the lock is still on just because Ramses hasn’t gotten around to taking it off. We’re obviously not kids anymore.”

Still, this felt kind of weird. I hesitated. “Why do you know the code?”

“Thatcher.” Wells smirked. “He cracked it for us one day. Wolf wanted to get in there. Says it gives him inspiration or some shit.” He stepped inside. “Come in. I know you’re curious.”

He left me before I could protest, and I groaned because I was curious. I strode inside, and let’s just say the goods around didn’t disappoint.

Especially when Wells clicked on the lights.

Large sculptures covered pretty much all available surface area, all metal and all… gorgeous. Ares’s dad had turned a regular office into a museum, the place a treasure trove of both big and small pieces. For the most part, they were all metal, but there were painted canvases as well.

My jaw dropped. “Holy shit.”

“Right?” Wells propped his back against a wall. He jutted his chin forward. “Check out the tower.”

I pivoted and didn’t need to ask what he meant.

Whoa.

A piece the height of the ceiling faced a large window, a step stool by it. It had all these cool sweeping angles, like a tree in a forest of metal, and I got why he called it the tower. The ceiling in here was at least fourteen feet.

“We all used to stare at this thing all the time and play on it.” Wells came up beside me. I hadn’t even realized I’d ventured over to the structure. Wells chuckled. “Hence the lock on the door. It’s a shame Ramses doesn’t really have time to get in here more. He’s so good at what he does.”

And this came from a non-artist. Even Wells could see how awesome this thing was, which was true. I hovered a hand over it. “You said his dad is busy…”

“Yeah, he is,” he said, but his voice grew quiet. His jaw shifted. “Sometimes life gets in the way, I guess. He’s a businessman like the rest of our fathers, so there’s that.”

He made it sound like that might not be the man’s only obligation, or at least, not the only reason.

I guessed that wasn’t any of my business.

Wells stepped over to the sole desk in the room. He nodded. “Seems Wolf might be working in here now, though.”

Sketchbooks lined the desk where a computer would normally be. A couple were open, and I recognized the geometric work.

“Wolf likes to draw this kind of stuff,” he said, picking one up. He glanced around the room. “I guess it’s good this room is getting some use. Ramses told us it was soundproof once, so that’s good for Wolf’s tunes. He can blast them and stuff.”

He did like to listen to music while he worked like me.

Wells’s phone buzzed, and he handed me the sketchbook. I thought that may be Ares being ridiculous, but considering all the eggplant emojis pouring in from a contact by the name of Ms. Deep Throat,I may be wrong in that assumption.

Catching me looking, Wells waggled his eyebrows, then proceeded to text back so many filthy words I had to avert my attention to avoid, well, that shit. I started flipping through Ares’s sketchbook haphazardly, but a photo fell out of it.

I picked it up and was kind of confused by what I was seeing.

“Who’s this?” I asked, and Wells got off his phone long enough to look. There were four people in the photo, a family. There was a woman I recognized as Ares’s mother, Brielle. I mean, I’d just met her, so I recognized her even though she was younger. The man in the photo, I recognized too. Not only did he look like Ares, but I’d seen a younger photo of the guy at Bow’s house.

The man was Ares’s dad, Ramses. He was older than that photo I’d seen, but this was him. God, he was the spitting image of his son.

My confusion lay with the others in the photo. Ramses and Brielle held two children, babies, and the couple had one in each of their arms. Brielle lay in a hospital bed, the baby in her arms swaddled, and Ramses held the other by her side. He sat on Brielle’s bed, the couple smiling into the camera.

I assumed one of these children was Ares, and Brielle clearly had just given birth. She had a tired glow about her face, but looked so happy.

I didn’t get why there were two babies, though, and Wells took the photo when I handed it to him.

“Ares’s parents.” The frown pinched hard into Wells’s lips. He pointed at the baby in Ramses’s arms. “This is Wolf.”

“Who’s the other kid?”

“Ares’s sister,” he said, shocking me. Wells nodded. “Ares has a twin. Had a twin.” He shook his head. “Though he’s obviously only been told about her. He never got to meet her.” He glanced my way, his sigh heavy. “They didn’t even get to make it out of the hospital with her. Ramses and Brielle?”

Oh my God.

I didn’t know what to say. I mean, what could be said to that?

“Wolf would never say, but I think a lot of his shitty attitude comes from that.” His shoulders lifted. “I think the guy might have some survivor’s guilt or some shit. He used to butt heads real hard with his parents, and Brielle and Ramses couldn’t be nicer folks. Brielle is pretty tough, but she’s cool. I think Ares just feels bad.”

“Feels bad?”

Wells’s lips turned down. “I think he feels like they got left with him. He’ll say shit like that sometimes. Real fucked-up shit. Dark shit.”

“I guess she and my dad got stuck with my attitude. Stuck with me.”

Ares had said that when he took me to do the graffiti, but I had no idea he meant it literally.

Wells handed me back the photo when his phone buzzed again. He cursed. “I need to call this girl before she starts losing her shit. I told her we can’t hang tonight, so she’s freaking. Ares let her over last time, so she’s giving me issues. I need to handle it.”

I was still thinking about what he’d said about Ares, but pulled out of it.

Wells backed up. “Don’t go anywhere. This will just take two seconds. I’ll come back for you and walk you back.”

I nodded, watching him escape to handle his business. I heard his voice hit the hall before I shifted my attention back to the photo.

It was so tragic.

I hated that what Wells stated about Ares made sense, things Ares had said and his attitude.

All this definitely didn’t feel like my place to know, and I really didn’t know how happy Ares would be that Wells had shared this information with me. Ares was very protective over his life, guarded.

I returned the photo to the sketchbook, then put it back on the desk where I’d found it. It felt really weird being in here now, but I did wait since Wells had told me to.

I glanced around the room, but my gaze caught on another sketchbook. This one was shoved between several boxes that were stacked, and the only reason I noticed it was because it was open.

And well, the image on the first page.

I could only see the top half of the sketch, but it was enough for me to pull the sketchbook out for a closer look.

But once I did…

It was me. Like I’d been sketched, and the rendering had been full body. I recognized my painting overalls, my hair up in a bun. The realism was spot on.

What?

I turned the page, seeing more of me. There were tiny sketches, three or so little mes in various poses on the page. Nearly all of them had me painting.

Some had me laughing.

I kept turning the pages. There were more and more of myself, and as I continued to flip pages, things somehow managed to get creepier.

There were some of me sleeping. In fact, it was the night I’d fallen asleep when Ares had come over. I was under the blanket I’d put on.

My heart raced, sketches of me eating on the next page. I was at the school and sitting at a lunch table by myself. I was in the hall and at my locker. There were just tons of meliving life, but none of this felt flattering.

It felt obsessive.

Toward the end of the sketchbook a folder fell out, and that’s when I stepped back. There weren’t just sketches of me.

There were pictures.

Actual shots were taken of me. Bru and I were mostly in these. They had to have been recent because my brother looked thinner. Some were at school, but others…

Were in my house.

There were photos inside with my brother and me on the couch. They were all from the same angle, our living room. They had timestamps like they were screenshots off a recording.

I was completely fucking shaking at this point. Especially when I looked up. A spot had been left where the sketchbook had been and tucked in it was a DVD. It was labeled two words: Sloane’s House.

Oh my God.

“Why are you in here?”

Ares Mallick stood at the door of his father’s office.

But he didn’t have his eyes on me.

He was looking at what was in my hands, the folder, sketchbook, and some of the photos. He was blinking rapidly,and when our gazes clashed, he stepped forward.

I stepped back. “What is this?”

A swallow flicked his throat.

And he wasn’t talking fast enough.

“What the fuck is this?” I waved the evidence. “Why do you have all this and a DVD of my house, Ares?”

But it wasn’t just my house. He had it in my house.

I wondered for how long.

Ares stared at me, his hands coming up and locking over his head. “I can explain.”

What could he explain?

How could he possibly?

This looked like he was… obsessed with me. I stepped back. “This is some stalker shit, Ares.”

“I know what it looks like—”

“This doesn’t just look it.” I threw it all in his face, all of it exploding all over the floor. The sketchbook and folder, the photos… My throat tightened. “Are you like in love with me or something?”

He blanched. Like it was really so far-fetched that I’d said such a thing. He raised his hands. “No, and if you would just calm down, I’ll tell you what all this is.”

I couldn’t calm down. I was freaked the hell out, so no. I couldn’t fucking calm down.

It was all enough for me to make a wide fucking berth around him, and when he grabbed my arm, I shoved him off me.

“You touch me again, I’ll fucking scream!” I was already screaming, and Ares looked horrified.

I think me shaking might have had something to do with it.

I was. My hands were actually trembling, and Ares backed up. It was at this point, Wells shot into the room and blinked at the pair of us.

“What’s going on?” he asked, his phone midair. A voice drifted out of it, and he must have still been on his call. I had no idea where he’d taken it if he’d missed Ares coming in here. Wells’s mouth parted. “What’s with the shouting? What’s going—”

He backed into the door when I shouldered past him, taking the opportunity. Ares and Wells were quick on my heels, but I didn’t slow down.

“Sloane, stop.”

It was Ares to speak, but I ignored him. I cut into the living room, my brother and Thatcher sitting on the floor. They had game controllers in their hands, shooting shit on the screen while Bow watched them from the couch. Dorian sat on her other side, his thumb tapping his phone, but when I came in, his head lifted.

He started to smile, but with all that shit trailing behind me, the expression was only the start of one. Ares’s and Wells’s heavy cadences stormed into the room, and when Ares asked me to slow down again, Dorian lowered his phone. He looked at me, then Ares and Wells. “Um—”

“Ask your friend,” was all I could say in explanation before ripping the controller out of my brother’s hands.

Bru glared. “What the fuck—”

“We’re leaving,” I commanded and not fucking joking. To prove the point, I snatched his keys off the floor. I started to go, but Dorian got me this time.

The dark prince got his big hands on my shoulders. “What’s going on? Why are you… What’s up?”

“Sloane.”

I cut to Ares, who’d spoken, and immediately seized up in Dorian’s hands.

Dorian noticed, appraising me. Blinking, he glanced over at his friend.

Ares cringed. “Sloane, just let me talk to you. I can explain.”

“What the fuck’s going on?” Dorian’s voice boomed in the room, and not only was my brother up, but Thatcher and Bow were too.

The room silenced but it wasn’t as if Dorian hadn’t spoken. Everyone was definitely aware, and no one more than Ares.

Ares’s gaze flickered around, as if a sheep in the lion’s den.

But he was the only predator here.

I reflected back to what I’d seen in his dad’s office, and it was hard to deny the connection to previous events. He’d been so helpful, so unusually helpful. I thought he’d hated me and was simply jealous of me before that like he’d said, but him hating himself made more sense. Maybe he had been infatuated with me, and that put him between a rock and a hard place.

I mean, Dorian was his friend.

Dorian let go of me, guiding me back. “I’m talking to you, Ares.”

He was, but Ares wasn’t looking at him. The boy’s gaze stopped on me. He swallowed. “Sloane—”

I grabbed Bru. “We’re leaving.”

I didn’t wait for him to fight me on the decision or anyone else trying to come at me about it. I simply left, and since I had the keys, I got right in the car.

“Sloane, hold up. What happened?” Bru trailed on my heels but he wasn’t the only party. Ares was once again following me, and how he’d managed to get out of the house before Dorian, I didn’t know, but he had.

Once outside, he physically bounded over the Audi’s hood. I’d seen him manage a feat before. He only had to use a hand since he was so tall, and though my cardio sucked, I managed to get outside and into the car before he could stop me.

I locked the door, and he started to tug, but Dorian’s voice once again boomed the air.

Dorian was making his way out of the house. Instinctually, Ares blinked that way, and it was enough time for me to start the car.

And Bru to get inside.

My brother must have seen I was serious, because after I started the car, he basically leaped inside. He snapped the door shut, yelling at me to talk to him, but he wasn’t the only one.

Ares’s fist pounded against the door, and Dorian was running. It took me a second to realize the dark prince was trying to get in front of my car, but even with all his speed, the quarterback couldn’t outrun my brother’s Audi.

Dorian had been only quick enough to get hands on the hood before I sped around him.

He called after me, getting smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror, but I couldn’t hear or see anything else besides my own thoughts in the moment. I just kept seeing pictures, images and sketches of me that’d been done without my permission.

And how I’d somehow mistaken his friend’s attention for simple kindness.