Page 49 of Tempting Little Thief

I’m the shadow that lurks.

The bigger monster.

The stronger one.

Bigger and stronger or not, I still don’t know how to give my sister what she needs that allows me to take what I want from this life, and there lies one of the million fucking problems being born Bastian Bishop buried me in.

Glaring at the flickering lights in the sky, I blow smoke rings into the air, blocking out every speck.

Silence must stretch too long because, in my peripheral, Rocklin turns her head toward me.

It took some convincing to get her out of the car, but for the last fifteen minutes, we’ve been lying side by side on a blanket on my rusted hood. The joint’s gone out twice already, both of us lost in our own thoughts, and neither of us has spoken a single one out loud since we started.

Maybe because we don’t know each other or maybe because we don’t trust each other.

Probably both reasons.

I’d bet it also has something to do with the fact neither of us knows what the fuck we’re doing here.

No matter, she’s staring at me now, her lips sealed shut, so I’m thinking she’s got something on her mind. Not sure she’d have ended up out here if she didn’t.

This—I—am against her better judgment, as I should be, just like she’s against mine.

There are a lot of rich folks in the town I live in, and I’ll happily take the fuckers’ money when they want to play big baller, betting a ridiculous amount on a fight with no clear winner. It’s always for show, to get the girl or to piss off some guy or some other dumbass reason. The rich pricks where I’m from go to school and get good grades, but other than that, they spend their time partying and chasing tail.

Basically, they’re normal-ass high school and college kids.

Rocklin ain’t like them, that’s easy to see.

“You like your life, Rich Girl?”

When she says nothing, I roll my head against the frame, so I’m facing her as she is me, our backs flat, hands lying on our stomachs, minus the one holding the joint.

She’s glaring, searching, so I let her. Ain’t nothing for her to find, after all.

She blinks a few times, but that’s all I get.

“That a hard question?”

“It’s a personal question,” she quips.

“Right, and only my dick gets the pleasure of knowing you personally, yeah?”

Her lips purse, eyes narrowing, but then a small laugh leaves her, and she snatches the joint from my fingers, facing the sky once more. “If I were smart, yes, but then again, letting a stranger fuck me wasn’t the brightest idea I’ve ever had. I had myself tested, by the way. Turns out you’re clean,” she teases.

A smirk pulls at my lips. “Thanks for clearing that up. I was worried there a minute.”

She bounces her brows once, waving the dead joint, so I reach over and spark the lighter.

She puffs a few times, her nose scrunching. “This tastes like shit.”

“Yeah, ‘cause it’s been lit five times. Quit bullshittin’.”

She tries to hide her smile, taking a few long pulls before handing it back.

A long, loud sigh pushes past her lips, and then she says, “My sister’s a cunt.”

From the corner of my eye, I glance her way.

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