Page 3 of Entangled By You
“Come on!We haven’t been out in forever, and you can’t let me go to this party alone, or I’m bound to wind up behind bars. You should see the way the girls act there.”
“No shit. It’s the Viper’s MC clubhouse, Harlow. It’s probably worse than some of the frat parties we used to sneak into back in high school.”
“Oh, definitely. But you need this. You can’t just keep sitting around the house, day in and day out. I’m worried you’ll become one with the couch.”
I am, in fact, cuddled into the side of my couch, watching my favorite comfort movie, under a mound of throw blankets. The remote is within reach and the snacks are only an uncomfortable stretch away, but shoot me, it’s been a long week.
“I’m not. I’m still going to work,” I argue, but it’s a sad excuse.
The truth is, I don’t really see the point. The black eye might be gone and the bruised ribs only twinge occasionally, but I’m still skittish after the hell Evan put me through. I don’t know where he is. I don’t know what he has planned. Hecould return at any moment and finish the job he thought he’d handled.
“I don’t care. You have two hours, and then I’m coming over and dragging you out of the house regardless of the state you’re in. Come looking like shit or actually get ready, I don’t fucking care, Lex, but you’re coming.”
Harlow’s no shit’s given, bossy side has always been a perfect match for my sassy, spoiled self, but right now, I kind of just want to hang up on my best friend. Unfortunately, I know she doesn’t make empty threats. She will absolutely break into this house—which won’t be hard since she knows the code—and drag me out kicking and screaming if she has to.
“Ugh, fine. I hate you.”
“I love you, too. I’ll be there at ten. Wear that cute hot pink mini skirt we got on our last girls’ trip to Dallas.”
“Whatever.”
She hangs up without so much as a goodbye, and I let out a frustrated screech to the ceiling. It might be Friday night, and I have tomorrow off, but I planned on sitting right here until sleep finally stole away my consciousness.
Kicking my sweaty legs free from the blankets, I turn the movie off and switch over to my current favorite playlist. If any women know the visceral hatred of the male specimen, it’s early 2000s country queens.
This was a mistake. I should have fought Harlow harder to stay in tonight. She showed up exactly at ten with mybrother in tow, but waiting outside on his bike. She knew I wouldn’t get on the back of hers, so we opted for my car instead.
I pull the scrap of fabric I used to consider a skirt down on my thighs, but the thing revolts against my efforts and reverts to its original length. I at least had the forethought to throw on a pair of cowboy boots instead of the heels I’d typically pair with this for nights at the club. Silas has never let me attend parties at the clubhouse, but my previous statement about frat houses still stands. Open-toed pumps in this environment are a surefire way to lose a toenail or end up with wet feet—the last thing you want to deal with all night.
The parking lot is full of bikes and a couple of random cars and trucks. The crowd spills out of the building through a lifted garage-style door. Music blares from somewhere inside, reducing the calls of the nocturnal bugs to a steady hum.
“I don’t like this,” I overhear my brother mumble to Harlow.
“Stop it. You have to be here tonight for Vik and I’m not about to allow some skanky cunt to try and get their claws in you, handsome.”
“Wildcat, no one’s stupid enough to try with me. You made damn sure of that last time.” He smacks her ass and pulls her into his hulking frame. “But that’s not what I meant.” His eyes, the replica of our dad’s, stare over at me. “She shouldn’t be here.”
“Shecan hear you, asshole. I didn’t want to be here anyway, but since your lovely wife dragged me from the safety of my happy place, now you get to deal with it, big brother.” I tap him on the chest and push past him.
“Don’t embarrass me,” Silas’s deep barking command calls after me.
I give him a double bird salute high in the air and drift through the crowd, heading straight for the one thing that will make tonight bearable. Alcohol.
“Double whiskey on ice, please,” I tell the young guy in the prospect vest, waiting until his eyes finally lift from my tits in the low-cut halter.
I should have ignored Harlow’s clothing suggestion. I blend in with half the women here, the ones vying for anyone’s attention that will flicker their way. They must be theskanky cuntsHarlow mentioned outside. The women who obviously belong aren’t dressed prudish by any means, but their outfits don’t scream, “fuck me where I stand” either. Plus, they all have matching tops withProperty Ofon the back.
It dawns on me that even though Harlow and Silas are married and very much together, she doesn’t wear one. I should ask her about that.
“Here you go, hot stuff.”
The overzealous bartender slides my drink in front of me, sloshing part of its contents over the edge.
“Grab me one too while you’re at it.”
That deep voice I managed to forget would be around skitters across every exposed inch of my skin. I try to ignore the way it settles low in my belly and reach for my glass, turning the opposite way to find Harlow and Silas. I should have known better.
“Surprised Si let you loose in here, Princess. Especially dressed like that.”
