Page 196 of Tempting Little Thief

So he’s not a murderous lunatic who found food under the parking lot lights.

A small smirk pulls at my lips and I shake my head, taking a photo as Brielle climbs into the passenger seat. Well, well. Maybe it won’t be so hard to convince Brielle to come back with us after all. That is what he wants, right? To bring her back to Greyson?

A twisted knot forms in my chest, and I press against it.

What if he doesn’t plan on going back to Greyson at all? What happens then?

Slowly, I lower into the seat and try and push the thoughts away, but it doesn’t work. I dial his number to tell him his sister is making a getaway, but it rings in the seat beside me. The panic doesn’t stop, and then my lungs are squeezing, fighting against the dewy night air.

Oh my god, what if I’m not understanding this right?

He was so fast to run here, to leave again … but what does that matter? I didn’t even know he was back until I saw him. Busting down the wall behind the Greyson Estate …

What the fuck has he been doing the last few months?

They couldn’t afford me if they wanted to …

Theysocould. The Brayshaws come from money. Big money.

But Bastian was never about money.

My eyes fall to the interior of the car, the fresh blue interior, nearly the same vibrant shade as the paint on my car.

Or was he?

Since I met him, the only thing he ever talked about wanting was for his sister to have a good life. And me.

We are here, so that means one of those two things still rings true, but the other … I’m not so sure. He hasn’t said it. Hasn’t touched me. The anger in his eyes shines bright, thehurt heavy behind it, but he did pick me up. He came to me after I left him a voice mail and begged him to.

What if all he’s trying to do is piss off my dad because he felt disrespected? What if this is a game and I’m a chess piece to be dominated on the way to check the king?

I blink, looking up to find Bastian and Royce. He spins to me, his face taut. Slowly, I sit up and step out.

“Where is she?” he demands.

My unwelcome, twisted thoughts get the best of me, and I smirk. “Where is who?”

“Fuck this. Let’s head back, grab her on the way,” Royce says, already moving toward the truck he rode in.

“Yeah, that won’t work.” I cock my head. “She didn’t walk.”

Bastian prowls toward me, soaking up all the air and forcing me to breathe in only him. “What are you talking about?”

“I was scrolling through Instagram and lost service,” I lie. “So I hopped out and walked around a bit, within the five-foot span, so don’t have an aneurysm.”

His eyes narrow accusingly, reading deeper than the surface of my words. Always deeper, and it takes real work not to crack.

He doesn’t call me out, but his disapproval is clear in his tone. “Keep talking.”

“Imagine my surprise when I spotted the girl of the hour slipping into the night with a different knight.” I look to the sky as an excuse to break eye contact. “Ah, the irony, right?”

The Brayshaw doesn’t appreciate my callous, mocking tone. “Get to the fucking point, girl.”

“Oh, an angry boy, nice.”

“Cut it,” Bastian snaps. “Where’d she go?”

“Hopped in a car.”

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