Page 8 of The Devil's Daughter

My attention darts back to Drake, my eyes wide. I can’t help but drop my gaze to peek at his groin, but there’s nothing particularly lewd going on. The manispacking, though. It was as evident in the camera shot I saw earlier as it is now.

“Jesus, okay. I watched, but I wasn’t looking for the fucking camera feed. I saw it because it was onher screen. Can we just focus on the fact that this place is riddled with surveillancenone of usknew about?”

“We’ll take care of it,” Baz says. “Ben, chill out and go get the signal scanners. Elle, do you know where the one in the bathroom is?”

I nod and shoot Drake a glare just on principle before turning to walk toward the bathroom. Not only did he watch, it also turned him on, if what Ben says is true, and when I glance at the mirror through the bathroom door, it’s obvious his eyes are fixed on my ass in my skimpy pink boy shorts.

I don’t have time to decide whether I like the look in his eyes or not, because he only has a split-second to enjoy the view before Ben’s fist connects with his jaw and he hits the ground.

4

Ben

It feelssofuckinggood to hit this asshole. I pull back for another swing, roaring at him when he tries to rise, his teeth bared and bloody. Before I can drop my fist, Elle grabs hold of my arm.

“Benny, no!”

Baz grips my shoulder from my other side, but all their interference does is give Drake a chance to rise again and throw a punch right into my gut, then another at my jaw. I bite my tongue so hard I taste blood.

“Stop it!” Elle yells.

“What the fuck?” Baz shoves between us, catching Drake’s second swing on his shoulder. He takes it, grabbing Drake by the shoulder with one hand while gripping mine with the other, holding us away from each other. “I don’t know what the hell is going on here, but you two need to chill the fuck out. In case you missed it, there’s surveillance peppered around this whole fucking penthouse thatwedidn’t install.”

“We don’t know that,” I say, glaring at Drake, who takes a step back and wipes a finger across his bloody upper lip. His gaze darts to Elle again, dropping to her hips, and I can justseethe heat in his eyes. I growl again, but he jerks his eyes to the ceiling, uttering a whispered prayer. Then he finally looks into my eyes and sighs.

“I didn’t know about the cameras. At first I thoughtsheput them in. They’re in every goddamn room, even my bedroom and office. If I installed them, why the hell would I do that?”

“Plausible deniability in case we found them, maybe?”

“Waste of resources,” he retorts, then turns and paces to the big window overlooking the bay and back, gingerly squeezing the bridge of his nose. It doesn’t look broken, but I can change that.

Elle approaches slowly, holding a hand towel out, which he takes and gingerly dabs at his nose. Baz releases me, but I cross my arms, waiting forsomeoneto give me a fucking explanation.

Baz settles on the end of the bed with Elle’s laptop. When he utters a curse, I look over. He points at the screen. “This isn’t our security feed, brother. There are cameras in our bedrooms too. How the hell did you find this, Ellie?”

“By accident, really. I was just poking around…”

“Where you have no fucking business looking,” Drake says.

Elle flashes him another glare. “If you’d tell me the fucking truth, I wouldn’thaveto go digging. I found the camera feed by accident anyway. I thought you guys put it in.”

A cold, prickly sensation begins at the base of my skull. I don’t like where this is going.

Drake straightens up and points at Elle’s closet. “Pack a bag. Now.”

Her mouth drops open and she stares, then faces him, feet rooted to the ground and arms crossed. “You’d better not be kicking me out over this.”

He shoots a desperate look at me, but we’re on the same wavelength for once.

“He’s not kicking you out. If the cameras weren’t installed by any of us, this apartment isn’t safe for you. Do what he says. We’re moving you as soon as we can.”

“Where to?” she asks. “Arturo’s?”

“It’s the best option,” Drake says.

“No. There have to be a dozen better options thatdon’trequire us to face that motherfucking liar,” Baz says. I can’t help but snort at how painfully appropriate his assessment of Arturo is.

Drake sighs. “I have an idea, but I’ll need to make some calls.”

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