Page 12 of Hell on Wheels

His interjection doesn’t help because it draws attention to the fact that my hands were in his pants and as they all smirk at me, I yank them back. “It’s not my fault you’re a perv! I wanted to give you a wedgie for being a fucking caveman, but…”

“Butt is right,” Archie howls. “The twinsneverwear underwear. How did you miss that all these years?”

My face flames redder and I grit my teeth. I missed it because I’ve studiously ignored my faux brother’s friends turning into smoking hot dudes over the past few years. It’s bad enough being Reb’s ‘little sister’ when I’m driving or we’re hanging out—it’s even worse when you know you’re surrounded by guys that most girls would sacrifice a pinky toe to bang. The worst part has been watching them literally plow through puck bunnies and stick-shifters the entire time.

Is it any wonder I’ve been so determined to forge my path and blaze through my headboard full of notches?

I reach down and pinch Angelo in the sidehard, and he drops me onto the soft cushions of the outdoor couch. “I donotneed to be carried. Florissa said my legs arefine.”

Damon looks up from his tablet, his mouth curving into a small smirk. “Sparkles, anything Angelo gets, I get, too. That’s how it works.”

Frowning, I look at all of them, waiting for one of them to correct his bullshit. No one seems to disagree, though. As far as I know, these two push against the twin thing as hard as possible; they get furious when they unintentionally say or do things in tandem. What the hell does he mean, ‘I get, too?’ Everything I knew about Reb and his friends seems to have changed, and I don’t know when it happened.

I don’t enjoy feeling out of the loop.

Archie walks over to my chair, holding my drink out to me once I get settled in the couch's crook. I prop my legs up on the L-shaped section and I have pillows behind me. He flops down next to me, propping his feet on the edge of my foot rest. He knows I hate feet, even my own, but his tanned toes aren’t bothering me today.

“Rogue, I’m sorry we’ve been so pushy,” Javi says softly. He’s sitting in the other corner of the couch next to Angelo, but the look in his eyes makes it feel like he’s closer. “But when Arch and Reb told us you’d gotten hurt, it was like a punch in the nose.”

“Finding out it might be part of some bigger power play makes that worse,” Damon adds. He holds up his tablet, showing us a screen full of what looks like gibberish, scrolling at light speed. “I have spiders crawling over Tor and a few other darknets looking for escrow payments and signs of more contractors than the idiots from last night.”

Rebel finally approaches, squinting at his work before he nods and sits at the end of my ottoman. He takes my feet and places them in his lap before he speaks. “Angelo, did you start your inquiries on the street?”

The brooding twin glares as he watches Rebel rub the sore spots on my feet. Suddenly, his lips quirk at the corner and he stands, peeling the white a-line tank off and tossing it aside. I damn near swallow my tongue as he reveals bulging muscles covered in a fierce array of tattoos from neck to waist. He turns and I have to bite back the gasp at the huge black feathered wings tattooed from his elbows to his shoulder blade, then down to his waist. His ink is spectacular. I don’t remember the last time I was around these guys in this setting. I know he didn’t have all of this.

Has it really been that long since I truly hung out with any of them besides Reb?

“Zuccherino, you haven’t been around much since we moved in here after graduation. Only a few visits, and short ones, at that. Rebel has been hogging you to himself, so of course, you haven’t seen any of our… modifications.”

My eyes widen and I look down at my drink as if it holds all the answers in the world.

Modifications? Jesus, that’s specific, and it doesn’t only mean tattoos.

“I suppose you’re right. I’ve been climbing the ranks in the Society and the Derby and racing… I haven’t made time to visit very much. I didn’t realize it mattered, though,” I reply. It’s a lame excuse, but it’s all I’ve got. Ihavebeen working hard on those things, but it’s not the only reason. I needed to be my own person—not an extension of Rebel—so I’d get taken seriously. Out of everyone, I think Angelo and Damon would understand that the most, but I don’t want to hurt Reb.

Damon’s eyes narrow and he puts his devices down, standing and stretching in the same way his brother did. His hand slides down to do that stupidly hot one-handed shirt removal thing, and my eyes pop open again ashisink gets revealed. Much like his twin’s full torso, he’s covered in beautiful art, though his are in color. He winks at me before turning to show me the elbow to waist bat wings on his back. “Now, we’re even. Remember, I said what he gets; I get.”

How does that even apply to… never mind. I’m too floored to make words.

A thumb digs into my heel hard, and I gasp, swiveling my gaze down to Rebel. “That hurt, asshole. Don’t tell me you didn’t feel the blister.”

The Cheshire Cat has nothing on my stepbrother when he’s being purposefully malevolent. “I popped it on purpose. Perhaps one of the posing dipshits could fetch me a first aid kit?”

Archie groans and looks up at the sky pleadingly. “Will some deity somewherepleasehelp this fool get his shit together? I’m so tired of it!”

The twins snicker in tandem, and Javi grins. I turn to the lanky blonde, giving him a bewildered expression. “Not to be dense, Archie, but what the fuck?”

He doesn’t answer; he only buries his head in his palms with another growl of frustration. Javi takes pity on him, offering to grab more drinks and the kit Rebel snarked about. The Geminis pull Damon’s lounger closer, sitting next to each another as they smirk at him. By the time Archie stops his growling and Javi returns, Rebel has stopped his usual post-skate foot massage and is peeling off his black tank.

Who the fuck ordered a ‘Magic Mike’ experience? Sweet merciful Titania, I’m going to die if they don’t quit.

“Hey!” Archie looks up at the sea of tattoo covered idiots and then turns to pout at me. “No one told me it was time to strip.”

“I didn’t tellanyoneit was time to strip! People just keep getting naked!” I put my hand on my chest, feeling my heart beating like a hummingbird’s as Archie completely ignores my answer to follow the others. Before I can open my mouth, Javi has done the same, and I’m surrounded by muscles, tatts, visible nipple bars, and one belly ring.

This isnotlike hanging with them when we were younger. I’m going to hyperventilate.

“There we go,” Archie crows. “Fair is fair gents.”

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