I chuckle at their banter, their voices fading into the background while I run to the kitchen to grab my bomber jacket. I have to admit, I really went all out this year. I’ve got the whole ensemble—fishnets, boyshorts, ‘Daddy’s Lil Monster’ T-shirt, bomber jacket. I even dyed the tips of my hair blue and pink for the pigtails.

The whole house is decked out for Halloween, as Nicky spared no expense for this party. While we were out riding earlier and then at lunch with our parents, he had a full crew in here prepping for tonight’s festivities. Mom and Mitch left a few hours ago and, while they obviously are aware we will be having a party, they trust us to not fuck up the house.

Nicky would never. He knows the value of a dollar and respects the home our parents provide for us. He’s even got boys stationed at all the staircases, declaring the second floor strictly off limits and restricting the party to the main living areas. He’ll have a cleaning crew here before the sun’s up tomorrow.

***

The house is pulsing with bodies. Random people continuously stop me to wish me ‘Happy Birthday’ or compliment me on my costume. I smile, though I’m aware most of them are only here for my brother. Even the ones from school, they all line up to get a sneak peek at the forbidden allure that is Nicky C. Motocross prodigy, rumored bad boy gangster. It all seems so glamorous to them. If they only knew what goes on behind closed doors.

Gangster life isn’t all fast cars, fancy jewelry and popping bottles of Cristal. It’s burning your clothes when you can’t get the blood out, looking evil in the eye and striking deals; it’s racing the sunrise when burying your secrets just so you can ensure another day of freedom.

Scanning the room, I find Nicky perched up against the kitchen counter chatting up some chick who’s practically naked, sporting a headband with a pair of cat ears. I shake my head. He’s relentless. Boy’s dick is gonna straight-up fall off one day.

I spin, colliding with Tommy’s chest.

“Whoa,” he chuckles, his hands reaching out to brace me and prevent my fall. “Easy, Baby J. Where you running off to?”

“Nowhere.” I smile. “Just doing a lap. Nice costume by the way.” I gesture to his Marty McFly getup.

“Thanks,” he laughs, extending his hands out to the side. “Rico’s Doc Brown. He’s around here somewhere.”

“What’s JP?” My head swivels, trying to get a glimpse of him.

“Hugh Hefner.”

I snort. “Of course he is.”

We share a brief laugh before the air goes still between us and I look up to find him staring.

“Happy Birthday, Jonsie.” He reaches for my hand and, though I flinch, I allow him to take it. It feels wrong… unnatural. “I was hoping you and I could maybe find some time to talk later. I wanted to ask you something.”

His demeanor has me on edge, because I’m fairly certain I know where this is going and I’m not about to prolong, nor entertain, it.

“Can’t you ask me now?”

He shakes his head. “I really should talk to Nicky first.”

Nope. Fuck this noise. Asking my brother for permission to date me like it’s the 1700’s? I’m a whole person with an opinion. And while Nicky might be the head of this family, he doesn’t speak for me.

The entire concept, while I’m sure he intends it to be respectful and well-meaning, just comes off as cringeworthy.

“Tommy,” I assert, removing my hand from his. “Don’t put yourself in that position with Nicky.”

“I want to, Jones. I’ve been thinking about this a long time. I know Nick would never consider it before you were eighteen, but that’s not a factor now. Plus, he’s my boy. He knows I’d take care of you like a princess.”

A princess. I have to fight to suppress the scoff rushing up my throat as Maverick’s words echo inside my head. You’re a Queen, J. And Queens make the fucking rules.

“Tommy,” I state, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Don’t I get a say in this?”

He stops, falling back half a step before he answers me. “Yeah, of course. It’s just… we’ve always been so close—”

“We’re all close,” I interject. “You, JP, Rico. You’re just as much my family as Nicky. But that’s how I see you guys, Tommy. Exactly as I see Nicky. So please, don’t risk a conversation with Nicky that’s going to serve no purpose other than put you guys in a very weird place. Okay?”

I see the distinct flash of hurt pass within his eyes before he nods, his jaw tightening.

“I’m sorry, Tommy,” I sigh, bringing my hand up to rub his shoulder. “We okay?”

“Yeah, Jones.” He forces a smile, leaning in for a quick peck on my cheek. “Of course we’re okay. Enjoy your party, babe.” He maneuvers around me, disappearing into the crowd.