“Not me.” Maya rolls her eyes. “Someone new!”
Oh no.
“Absolutely fucking not.” Delila’s eyes swing between Maya and me, and I find myself standing and making my way over to Saskia and Callan, further protecting them. “No.” After giving the dove drawing to Kohen, I found I was right, and it had something to do with him and my sister. I don’t know what, but Kohen’s whole vibe dropped when he saw the familiar drawing. He placed it in his pocket with a smile. Had I earned a smile from the one who doesn’t possess a soul?
“Okay! Well, how about this?” Delila’s voice breaks through. “After New Year’s, we’ll walk through this again. The fact is, something is happening, and we need to take control.” Delila’s eyes drift to Maya before coming back to me softly. I see the apology in her eyes. It’s already settled. One of my own will be going undercover, and there’s not a fucking thing I can do about it.
Shit!
“I need to dance.” I turn, leaving the room and passing all of the adults. I love Delila—she has taken me under her wing more times than I can count—but I can’t agree with this. Not ever. I can’t agree to put one of my girls or Kenan into the pit of hell.
I’m pushing out the door when my harem follows behind me.
“Are you okay, Perse?” Saskia asks, stepping beside me.
“Yeah,” I answer, walking back toward the compound. “I just need to dance. Let off some steam.”
Kenan comes up on the other side with Callan beside him. “You know, we’ll be okay if one of us has to go.”
“Fuck that!” Kenan scoffs. “Have you heard of Patience?” We’re making our way out of the clearing now and I take a sharp turn for the tent, knowing I have some clothes there.
“I haven’t,” I say, shrugging. “I’ve heard the name a lot lately, but haven’t had the time to ask about her.”
“Patience isn’t a her, it’s a show. They’re like us, from Kiznitch, only they don’t do shows. I mean, they do, but their shows are underground and for one purpose only,” Kenan mutters.
I shove open the door. “And what’s that?”
“To sell you.”
I freeze. “Holy shit!”
“Yep,” Callan murmurs, and I follow her through the entrance. “It started because a couple of people were offended for not being picked for Midnight Mayhem, and then it grew. It seems selling humans, girls to be exact, is worth more money than what people pay for a Midnight Mayhem show.”
“Are you sure?” My eyes narrow. “I mean, twelve-hundred large isn’t exactly cheap!”
“That’s how much they pay?” Saskia freezes, her eyes wide. “That’s a lot of money.”
“No shit,” Kenan scolds. “But yeah, so once a month, they host a show that’s at an undisclosed building. The most powerful people in America, people you couldn’t imagine, attend them. They get a text the night of and the rest is history. I mean, if you ask me, that’s fucked up. I know Midnight Mayhem is fucked, but they’ve always stayed in a moral lane.”
“Eh.” I shrug. “I mean, sure. But not really.”
“What, because of the sex?” Kenan grabs his cock and his head tilts back as he bites on his lower lip.
“You are crazy.” I shake my head.
He winks at me. “Go get dressed.”
I’m still laughing when I move away from them and slip backstage, heading straight for my duffel bag that’s hidden beneath a chair. I pull out some ripped boyfriend jeans and a Calvin Klein crop top. The boyfriend jeans are way too big for me but still manage to hang off my hips, courtesy of my ass. I stroll back outside, piling my long hair onto the top of my head, but then change my mind and ruffle it back out again.
Jay hollers from the DJ booth ahead and I raise my hands at him, signaling him to hit me with a mix.
I start snaking my body around the place as The Weeknd’s “The Birds Part 2” starts playing softly through the speakers. Rolling my head back until it looks almost inhumane, I roll back to the front of the stage and move my body to the music. He doesn’t want anything like that with you. You’re still the annoying little kid he was stuck with all his life. I swing my hair around in circles, riding the slow beat and bringing my hand down the front of my body, down my tight abs. “Trade It All Part 2” mixes into the song. I change my movements to tight, hip-hop moves. “The Dark of You” by Breaking Benjamin mixes in next. It’s slow, throwing me off beat. Literally. My footsteps falter at the change of pace as I take a couple steps backward, waiting to gather enough of the rhythm to be able to use. I start flicking around the place in ballet movements, standing splits and swinging around. When the chorus kicks in, I grab my head and circle it around, entrapped in the song. Sweat pours out of me as the music hydrates me again. Anything but Breaking Benjamin. I roll my body back up off the ground, feeling a bit weird doing ballet in inappropriate clothing. The chorus drops again, and I pike up, pressing one foot into my inner thigh and spinning around in circles, dropping to the ground just as “Lalala” starts pumping. I shift into that song, shaking my ass around the dance floor. The rest of my crew piles onto the stage, and we laugh as they all start dancing.
Kenan makes an effort to grab my hips, so I go with it. “In Those Jeans” starts playing and it turns into a Kenan and Perse show. He hooks his fingers into my belt loops, pushing my ass into his crotch. I bend over, rolling my ass and grinding into him.
Okkkuurrrr.
I laugh, biting down on my lower lip, as I raise up slowly, rolling against him. He drops in front of me, his face deep in my crotch. I grab the lower part of his arm, dropping down in front of him and snaking my arms out. I grab his crotch, smirking while rolling sexy circles around him, teasing. I reach for my crotch and pull it softly while rolling my body. The chorus hits again, and he slides into my legs again.
I laugh this time, signaling cut to Jay.
The lights flick back on, and King is sitting in the front row, his hoodie covering his face. Kyrin is beside him, whispering into his ear while his eyes go up and down Kenan, probably sizing him up. Hopefully in a sexual way.
“Hey,” I murmur, looking at King.
He gets up from his chair and leaves.
I rush forward, chasing him. “King!” He ignores me. When we get outside, I grab for his arm, laughing what just happened off. “Hey!”
He swings around, cutting me with a glare. “What, P?”
I still. “Wait, why are you mad now?”
He pulls at his hair. “Everything is fucked.” He grips me around my arm and yanks me toward his RV. Stepping into it is like taking a step back into the past. The smells, the setting. My small little room in the back. It all feels like lifetimes ago. He starts pacing in the kitchen, and I take a seat tentatively. King is like a ticking time bomb. Only when he explodes, those he loves and keeps close to his heart never get touched.
“Do you know what this life is about, P? I mean, really?” He pauses abruptly in front of me.
“No? I mean, yes but no. I’m hoping I’ll learn everything else as it goes on, but King, this is my family. You are my family. The Brothers are my family, and Delila may as well be my mother.”