Page 71 of Carry Your Debt

I grunt. Finding out Sabine Winters is now a headhunter for a corrupt criminal organization might just edge out this bullshit with Tristan’s paternity for its level of weirdness.

She’s wasting her time, though. Most of this crowd are Aces or Ace groupies.

“I guarantee youwillget all hot and bothered, though,” the guy with her purrs. He gives her a sultry eyebrow waggle, earning a playful slap to the chest with the back of her hand.

My teeth click as he glances up and I lock eyes with him.

Fantastic.

It’s the blond fucker from the diner.

The one we followed out to the middle of nowhere and had to watch play cat and mouse with our girl.

The lighting was shit, and he’d been wearing a mask, but I assume that was also him hovering behind her like an overgrown bulldog at the Symposium.

“Ow,fuck,” Sabine grouses, flexing out her fingers. “Are your pecs filled with fucking concrete?”

My own fists flex in response to their playful banter, seeing how relaxed their exchange is.Easy.

“Au naturale, babygirl,” he grins, lifting her knuckles and pretending to inspect them for damage. He smirks up at me and then makes a show of leaning down and running his tongue along them with a single, languid lick.

All while holding my gaze.

What the fuck.

“Why the fuck are you even here?” I blurt, taking a step forward before I catch myself. That angry swarm in my chest is vibrating louder; the reins I try to keep in place on my temper in real danger of slipping away.

“I'm the guy you’re about to tap out for, sweetheart,” he taunts right back with a dangerous grin. One that has all sorts of memories swirling forth—his wicked laughter, his large body caging Sabine’s up against the door of his car.

Pinning her body to the floor.

If this really is my opponent—then for the first time since I stepped foot inside the Underground's cage, I’m not one hundred percent confident about the match’s outcome.

“You’reDionysus?”

D. That's what she'd called him. I should have fucking put two and two together.

“In the flesh,” he winks, but then follows it up with a pout. “I see that little fucker Hermes didn’t mention me, then.”

“D,” Sabine cuts in like a warning.

I shoot a searching look between them, now thoroughly confused. Hermes is what she was dubbing Miller that night after the Guardhouse shooting, right? But how wouldthisguy know that? That was after he’d seen us at the warehouse.

“Lake?”

“Blond, yay high, likes being turned into a Double Stuff Oreo?”

“Orbison,” Sabine hisses again, her eyes flashing toward mine.

With the cautious look she now assesses me with, coupled with the smug expression on Dionysus’s face, it doesn’t take a genius to guess exactly what happened.

I feel dizzy. “What, all three of you?”

When my brother had managed to drag himself home—smelling like sex and sea salt and on the edge of a manic episode—I tried to ignore the fact it was because he’d hooked up with her.

After hearing that heandTristanhad both fucked her—together, and in Tris’s bed, no less—those same feelings of trepidation had only deepened.

Notbecause I’m jealous of my brothers.