Page 72 of American Hellhound
Another car waited in the drive: Stephanie’s boyfriend, Chad. His silver Mustang had a decal in the back window that read:hate me if you want. Loser.
He stood on the porch, hands in his jacket pockets, wind messing with his perfect hair. “Where are they?” he asked as the girls approached.
“They’ll be here,” Stephanie said. She didn’t sound confident.
Please don’t be here, Maggie prayed.
She heard motorcycles approaching.
Shit.
She climbed up the porch steps, ducked past Chad and stepped behind an ivy-covered column. Maybe she could stay out of sight for now.
Or, maybe, she could catch a ride back to town with Ghost. If he was here. Hopefully, he wasn’t the one who’d agreed to Stephanie’s stupid-ass plan.
Again, she wondered if he made a habit of leading underage girls on, and winced to herself. It didn’t seem likely, not given the way he’d reacted to learning her age – but then again, it wouldn’t be the first time she’d been proven stupid and easily-led.
The rumble of the bike engines died, and in their absence, the quiet seemed to vibrate.
A voice she didn’t recognize said, “Now what’s this whole business about a discount you were telling Justin about over the phone?”
Curiosity got the best of her. Maggie inched forward, hand braced on the grimy plaster of the column, and peeked through the ivy leaves. She saw three men sitting astride Harleys. One of them was Ghost; her stomach gave a little flip.
“Maggie’s seeing one of your guys,” Stephanie said, hands on her hips, playing the princess for the biker boys. “And she’s…” She glanced over her shoulder. “Seriously? Maggie, where are you?”
Maggie didn’t move. From her hiding place, she watched Ghost scan the front of the house, frowning to himself, looking for her.
“Seriously?” Stephanie repeated.
A hand clamped over Maggie’s wrist. “Hey!” It was Chad, and he was strong enough to drag her, resisting, out into the open. “Let go of me, asshole!” She snatched away as soon as she could, but it was too late: all eyes were trained on her now.
“Get it together,” Stephanie hissed at her.
“Bite me, bitch.”
“Ooh-hoo,” one of the bikers exclaimed. It was the one who’d spoken before, the one with the sharp nose and lion’s mane of surfer hair. “This is Maggie? I like her.” He shot a grin Ghost’s way. “Whaddya think, Ghost? You gonna give her thefamily discount?”
Ghost swung off his bike and started toward the house.
“I don’t want the discount – I don’t want the drugs either,” she protested. “Just charge them whatever you want.I’mleaving.”
The guy with the hair laughed.
Ghost reached the porch stairs and scaled them in two strides, catching her upper arm in his big hand and squeezing tight. “No, you’re not,” he told her, and marched her through the half-open front door and into Hamilton House.
“What? No – stop!” she protested, but it was no use. He wasa lotstronger than Chad. She wasn’t going to stop until he wanted her to.
He finally released her when they reached the ballroom. Maggie spun away, pulling her arm loose and putting some distance between them. It didn’t occur to her, as they stood amidst the cobwebs and wreckage of parties past, alone with a criminal, to be afraid of him. She wasfurious.
“You – you,” she sputtered, “can’t just manhandle me.”
He folded his arms and stared her down as if to saycan and did. “What are you doing here?”
“First off.” She held up a single, quivering finger. “It’s none of your business. And second off.” She let out a deep breath. She was shaking she was so unhappy. “I didn’t want to be here. I got tricked into it.”
A single brow lifted. She was learning that little tic – if she wasn’t so put out, she would have admitted she thought it was super sexy. “You got tricked?”
“Don’t act like I’m an idiot.”
