Page 51 of The Order of Disorder
“To loyalty,” Wyatt and Silas echo.
I drain my drink, eyes downcast. I can feel Billy’s gaze like a collar tightening around my neck.
Loyalty.
In Billy’s world, everyone owes him. And the price always gets higher.
He smiles, eyes settling on me again, slow and appraising. “You’re looking good tonight,” he says casually. “Isn’t she, Silas?”
Silas smirks and takes a long drag on his cigarette, his eyes crawling over me hungrily, like he’s not just imagining me naked, but tied up.
I press my legs together.
I’m in cutoff shorts and a black tank top, nothing special, but the air is heavy and the fabric is clinging to me. My legs and shoulders are bare, and the exposed skin prickles under Billy’s and Silas’s stares like it’s crawling with ants.
“Always did have a fuckin’ great body,” Billy says evilly, trying to goad me on purpose. “And flexible, eh, Ryan?” Billy jerks his chin at him, keeping his eyes on me. “You treating him right, princess? Keeping him happy?”
Wyatt’s arm tenses against my side and his hand finds mine, where it’s digging into his thigh, and squeezes a little too hard. Billy leans back, grin sharpening.
“Nothing’s permanent, though,” he says to Wyatt. “You know how this life is. Shit changes fast. Maybe I get nostalgic one day. Maybe I take her back.”
Wyatt doesn’t blink. A silence stretches just long enough to be uncomfortable, the two men looking at each other and neither saying anything. Then Wyatt stands, and pulls me up with him. It’s as openly defiant as I’ve ever seen anyone be to Billy.
“I’ll check in with Brandon and Knox,” he says calmly, simply picking up the previous conversation where they left off. “Make sure the back gate’s clear.”
But Billy lifts a hand, grinning with malice. “Why don’t you leave Max here with us? Silas’ll keep her warm for you.”
Silas chuckles. The sound makes my stomach turn.
“Not tonight,” says Wyatt easily. “I’ve been surrounded by guys all day. She’s mine tonight.”
Billy laughs. “Fuckin’ romantic.”
Wyatt touches my back, his touch firm. “We’ll catch up with you later.”
He steers me away, and I can feel the tension vibrating in his hand, in his body, in the space between us.
“Jesus Christ,” he mutters, once we’re halfway across the room. He puts an arm around my shoulder, smiling and nodding at a couple of guys who lift their glasses to him. “Let’s go see Brandon and Knox.”
I nod and wrap my arm around his back, leaning into the opportunity to touch him. I spread a palm against the side of his stomach to feel how flat it is, how the muscles move right under the skin, and realize I’m drunk.
“Oh, you are trouble, kid,” he says with a low laugh, patting my wandering hand affectionately. I wonder if he’s drunk too. He seems…genial.
We approach the lot-side doors, where Brandon and Knox are smoking and deep in conversation. Their shoulders straighten when they see Wyatt.
“Keep your eyes on the back gate,” he says. “Too much foot traffic near the fence. No one near the armory. You see anyone by that door, pull them away. In twenty minutes, do a perimeter sweep. Check the gates. Look for any signs of life—cars, wanderers. Anything off, find me or Cipher.”
“Got it,” Brandon says.
“After midnight, tighten the rotation. Check tags. Be smart.”
“Copy,” Knox says, dropping his cigarette and grinding it under his boot.
Wyatt gives a single nod, then puts his arm around me again and turns us back toward the chaos.
The hangar’s no longer quiet. Whatever reverence the ceremony held has burned off. A gunshot cracks somewhere up front. Wyatt stiffens, flags Brandon from across the room, but it’s nothing. Just someone firing into the dirt, followed by raucous laughter. A beer bottle smashes at my feet as we pass the bar. I flinch, then keep walking like it never happened.
Near the pool table, one of the newer girls is perched on the edge, naked. Her blonde hair fisted in a guy’s hand, arms braced behind her, breasts bouncing while he fucks her. A small crowd watches, and one of them is already unbuckling his belt.
