Page 77 of The Devils They Are

I offer her a hand because it's the polite thing to do. She grasps it, using my weight to help pull herself to her feet.

"You have dogs," she remarks breathlessly. "They are gorgeous. And very friendly."

"Too friendly," I reply with a laugh, looking at the two who are awaiting my next command. "Meet Calvin and Klein."

Bexley raises an eyebrow in amusement. "Calvin and Klein?"

I nod, fighting back a smile. "Calvin is mine. Klein is Soph's. They are brothers."

She glances over at the two, eyes dancing as they turn their attention to her. Their asses stay grounded, but their tails wag aggressively when they spot her watching. Traitors. Clearly, they are also taken aback by her attention.

Suddenly, a look of perplexment appears. Her gaze shifts between them a few times, before turning to me. "They look like wolves," she states, her tone somewhere between impressed and annoyed.

This time, I can't help it. My laugh bursts out, my lips pulling into a Cheshire grin. "I know," I reply simply. "Quite fitting, don't you think?"

Bexley rolls her eyes but steps forward, patting the tops of their heads. "Ego much?" she mumbles.

We adopted Calvin and Klein three years ago as puppies. Well, adopted in the guise of parental bribery.

Dad was leaving the country for work, and around the anniversary of Mom's passing, I was quite vulnerable. We were no strangers to having him away, but between the date gutting me and Soph being depressed from some of the stereotypical schoolyard bitches, I unleashed a decade of locked away thoughts. Still, my pleas and demands weren't enough to convince Dad to stay. After all, business comes first. He's never been hands-on, and the idea of dealing with teenage emotions was enough to scare him onto a plane without the bullshit excuse of work. So, we woke the next morning to his car gone from the driveway, but a quick handwritten note to check the backyard. That's when we found Calvin and Klein tied up, waiting to meet us.

For a man who is nothing but meticulous, he gave no thought as to the requirements of owning such brute pets. This was nothing more than a payment of hisgenerosity, an excuse to call himself a good father. But thankfully, Mary was already onto it. She helped arrange the proper fencing and kennels, making sure our new family members had everything they needed.

As much as I still detest the coward move, I have to admit, Calvin and Klein were a great addition for both of us—man's best friend indeed. You can't buy a child's love, but he did give me someone else to love since you can't love an absent father. He may as well be a ghost too, but at least my remaining memories of Mom still existed deep down. The memories with Dad are few and far between.

Soph fell in love with Klein straight away, obsessed with his fluffy white ears. Something about the canine helped her grow a backbone. Well, that's what she believes. It was a team effort.

That same week, I pulled Ry and Hunter together, demanding we take control of Willowbrook. Our predecessors were too busy with their dicks buried in the senior cheerleaders to care, and with Hunter's Dad already a strong presence as the Dean, we easily dethroned them. It was unheard of, freshman students taking over as leaders. But with our plan in place, we had successfully taken over before sophomore year. And with that, I scared the shit out of anyone that dared look at my sister the wrong way. The bitches who tormented her suddenly became intoxicated with our power, instead throwing themselves at us. And in turn, they tried to befriend Soph, hoping to use her as leverage to weasel their way into importance. But Soph's too smart for that. I wish I could say the same for other students. Some never take notice of the warning signs—a fatal mistake.

My favorite memory was taking Calvin and Klein to a pep rally for the first time. Jay Bereman was trying to hit on Soph, refusing to take no for an answer. The egotistical bastard was in senior year and one of the few that refused to acknowledge us as leaders. He looked down on two things—girls, and anyone who wasn't a senior. Calvin tackled the piece of shit in front of the whole school, pissing on his chest which made Bereman vomit like a little bitch. After that, we never had any trouble again. We cemented our place as the head of Willowbrook and no brainless dickheads tried to target Sophia ever again. Occasionally, I watch the video recording of that momentous event whenever I need a pick-me-up.

"What are they?" Bexley asks, pulling me from the fond memory.

I stand next to Calvin, scratching behind his ear. "Tamaskans."

"I can't get over how much they look like timber wolves," she replies.

Calvin throws his head back, desperate to run his sandpaper tongue on my palm. "Like I said—fitting."

It's easy to tell the two pups are from the same litter. Both have the same gray hues throughout their coats, mixed with shades of white, black and brown. Where Klein has pure white ears, Calvin's are black. The patterned coats blend the colors seamlessly, resembling wolves. Their honey irises stand out against the monochrome colors, and without seeing them as the big slobber goblins they are, you'd probably shit yourself coming face to face with them.

Bexley shakes her head at my response, but her hardened expression barely lasts as the two twins give her literal puppy-dog eyes. She melts instantly, squatting in front of them to offer dual pats.

I unhook their leashes from the nail hanging by the door, offering one to her. "Come on. Let's procrastinate from that disaster of an equation a little longer. You can walk Klein for Soph. She's deep in a book at the moment. I tried to talk to her earlier and she threatened to throw her Kindle at my head if I disturbed her again."

"That's why I like her," Bexley murmurs playfully, taking the lead from me. She clips it easily to Klein's collar, while I do the same to Calvin.

"Yeah, well if it's any consolation, I think my own sister likes you more than me. She was more than willing to greetyouat the door. But heaven forbid I try to talk to her while she's reading about dragons."

Bexley laughs, like she's remembering something funny. "She's a good woman."

"Because she's likely to maim me?"

"That's a bonus."

I beckon for her to follow me to the side gate, the two dogs leading the way. They know our afternoon path better than anyone, and once we hit the pavement on the street, they guide us with ease.

Emerald eyes skirt around, taking in the various houses in the gated community. It's a quiet neighborhood, and at this time of day, the only people around are house staff finishing up their outdoor jobs and people driving by as they return home from corporate roles in expensive suits in even more extravagant cars.

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