Page 53 of Cruel Games

And then came Coyote.

The fucker didn’t just shake her hand. He took hers in his, went through the same motions as the rest of us, and then, after she’d pulled away, he fucking smiled at her again.

Like a loon.

Boy was certifiable. She was theenemy.

Never smiled atusthat fucking often.

I had known Coyote foryears. Fucking years.And in all that time, he hadn’t spoken as much or smiled as much in one sitting as he’d done today while our lives were on the line. Maybe when we got ourselves out of this, I’d drag his ass to a strip club, show him some hot tail, remind him there was more than one woman on this planet who looked good out of her clothes.

Hell, he hadn’t even fucked her. If anyone should be pussy whipped for the girl, it should be me, or, to a lesser extent, Dingo.

Man didn’t even have experience with women. For him to decide out of the blue that this was the one he wanted to break himself in with?—

There were way better options.

An hour and a half later,we were sitting in the head office with our boss, Lilly St. Clair, and our newest ‘member,’ Ivy.

St. Clair eyed us across the table when we brought her in, like we’d lost our collective minds. And she wouldn’t have been wrong, but keeping our lives hinged on making her believe we weren’t doing this against our will.

Well, scratch that.One of uswas definitely not being coerced into this arrangement. He and I would have words later.

Lilly shoved her reading glasses up the bridge of her nose with that long middle finger I’d seen her use to poke a man’s eyeball out before. The woman was equally deadly and professional, organized insanity, as it were. Some days, I wondered what made her give up the actual killing to run this place filled with psychos.

“So you’re telling me you’re adding a new member to your ranks. A miss . . . I’m sorry, what’s your name?”

“Ivy,” our tormentor answered simply, leaning back in her chair like she was on top of the world. “My last name isn’t that important.”

“Unfortunately, it is for me. In case of emergencies, I need to know who to contact?—”

“I’m on my own.” Her eyes narrowed, and I saw a flash of anger rise from their swirling blue depths. “No significant others, no kids, no strings.”

“I have to list someone,” Lilly tried again, shoving the paperwork toward her again. “So pick someone. And I still need that last name.”

“Last nameGo Fuck Yourself,first nameRespectfully.”She shoved the papers back, scrunching her nose like a little bunny. “Put whatever you’d like on that line, ma’am. I ain’t giving you mine.”

Lilly sighed and turned to me, rolling her eyes as she regarded the dead look in mine. “You idiots are perfect for each other. Three unruly dogs who know no master, and one veryheadstrong bitch with trust issues who bucks authority as a rule.”

My jaw fell open, words refusing to form as I made a lovely new fly trap for St. Clair’s office. Her assessment of us, ofher,spoke volumes. She knew more than she was letting on about, but for some reason, she refused to say anything more. I cringed inwardly, hating that we were so easily pegged by our boss.

She didn’t see enough of us to know us so well.

“Are you watching us on your cameras here? Got one hidden in our rooms?” I quirked a brow and leaned back, smiling as our new cohort’s body went rigid next to me.

She was as worried as I was.

Lilly smiled, her perfect white teeth lined up in a neat row, so unassuming, unless you knew what she’d done with those chompers before. “Not in your bedrooms or bathrooms, obviously. But I do have cameras hidden in every hallway, and there may or may not be more you don’t know about.” Her eyes cut to Ivy, narrowing slightly. “How did you learn about the Guild? And good lord, how the hell did you get mixed up with these men?”

She shrugged, trying for a nonchalant air. “Let’s just say we have similar interests, and fate brought us together to create the perfect partnership.”

“Okay, miss no last name?—”

“Just Ivy is fine,” she retorted, crossing her arms. “Is there anything else? Maybe my Guild pin? Or a key card for the garage?”

She’d crossed a line, and she knew it. The second the words were out of her mouth, I watched the cocksure amusement leech from her expression and move right over the table to find a new home on St. Clair’s lips in the form of a shit-eating grin.

“How would you know we need a key card for our parking garage? Or about the pin and its significance?”

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