Page 15 of Hidden But Not Safe

“Fuck, looking at you makes me so hard,” Miguel groaned.

Her gaze flew to him, and her smile widened. “No touching,” she reminded him, turning her back to them to cross the room. She bent to rifle through a backpack there, and Miguel stomped toward her, grabbing her arm.

Her soft cry had Naz surging forward, but he caught himself in the doorway when Miguel shoved her toward the bed before bending down to search through the bag himself.

“I’m not letting you pull a gun on me,” he said.

Meg lay where she fell on the bed, her fake smile washed away, replaced by a trembling lip as she rubbed at her reddened arm.

Naz wondered how many fingerprints Meg’s skin had been bruised by. It seemed like everyone wanted to grab her arm.

Miguel stood afterward, whirling back to her. He froze as he saw her sprawled on the bed, her legs open and her body flat on the mattress except for that raised arm she was rubbing.

Her legs snapped together as she laughed, the hitch in it making it sound forced. “Don’t even think about it.”

Miguel threw the backpack on the bed. “Get dressed,” he muttered as he stomped to the doorway, and Naz stepped aside so he could pass.

Meg quickly began dragging on a pair of jeans.

Miguel thumped his head against the wall outside the bedroom, wearing a pained expression. “We could do it,” he murmured.

Naz’s eyes narrowed.

Miguel sneered at him. “I know you want to. She’s such a fucking cocktease, isn’t she?”

The voices were back, their harsh words echoing in Naz’s mind.

“Julio keeps going on and on about how great her pussy is. As long as we’re both in on it, we can feel that fluttering cunt for ourselves.” Miguel grinned at him. “That puta likes to fuck. I doubt she’ll complain, but if she did, it’d be her word against ours.”

The tunnel vision was taking over, and Naz’s hand closed into a fist against his side.

Miguel snickered. “Or just mine. You wouldn’t say a fucking thing, and I’ll say she’s causing drama again. Like she did yesterday.”

Naz pounced, his fist slamming into Miguel’s face.

He wasn’t sure how many times he’d hit him before his vision returned.

Meg clutched at his arm, refusing to be shaken off. “Stop! Please stop.”

Her backpack swung against him, drawing his gaze away from the man he still wanted to pummel.

The sight of his shirt tucked inside the bag, as if she meant to take it with her, helped him step away, even with the voices still clamoring in his head.

Miguel groaned in pain on the floor, pressing a hand against his bleeding nose.

“None of us wants to piss off Julio,” she said, her hand moving down to squeeze Naz’s smeared fist. “I know what he was saying, and it’s not worth it. I’m used to it. Even if he’d fucked me, I would have enjoyed it.” She shrugged, releasing him and walking to the door with her back straight.

“For fuck’s sake,” Miguel mumbled with a glare.

Naz reached down, hauling him to his feet and shoving him into the wall. He slowly shook his head, too wound up to form the word he’d said most in his life.

Miguel lifted his other hand in surrender. “I got the message,” he said nasally as he continued trying to staunch the blood with his hand.

Naz released him and followed Meg to the door. His hand was shaking, making it harder to cinch the helmet on her tight enough. He tested it, then climbed on the motorcycle, his skin crawling even before she wrapped her body around him.

He didn’t wait for Miguel to make his way down. The asshole could return on his own. Naz sped up faster than before, needing the wind to drown out the lingering jeers in his head.

Chapter 6

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