Page 44 of G.O.D.S Omnibus

“Don’t fucking try me today,” Boston snaps from behind Davis. “You could have texted us back.”

“Coulda, shoulda, woulda,” I huff, snatching the seat belt from Davis’s grip. “I had research to do and?—”

Davis slams the car door in my face.

All five guys stand in front of the car and talk. Boston looks pissed and Laughn has his signature smirk—both of which should chill any normal person to the bone. Marlow and Case stand with their arms crossed, while Davis leans against the bonnet. Boston seems to be talking with his hands and I chuckle at how ridiculous they look.

They turn to look at me and I smirk. Davis shakes his head and walks towards the car, opening his door and jumping in. He doesn’t say a word, he just throws the car into gear, causing the tyres to spin in the gravel, and leaving a cloud of dust in our wake.

We sit in silence, and I watch as the veins in his wrist twitch whenever he changes gears—not something I thought I would find hot, but I do. I peer over at him and take in his boy-next-door charm, even though the Davis I’m getting to know is anything but. I wonder why he doesn’t have a body covered in ink like the rest. He seems so damn composed, and I find myself wanting to break him.

We eventually pull into a driveway of a comparatively unpretentious mansion.

“Where are we?” I ask, breaking the silence.

Davis ignores me and gets out of the car. I follow suit, trailing him up a small set of stairs and through the double doors.

Surprise . . .it’s a foyer.

It blows my mind. I’m used to small houses, where as soon as you walk inside, you are in the only living room of the entire place.

We silently climb a set of stairs, and Davis reaches the top while I’m a few steps behind, so I rush to catch up before I lose him.

He turns left into a room, which looks more like a suite. It boasts a king-size bed, a damn couch, a massive LCD TV, and a walk-in wardrobe. Not as nice as Boston’s, and not as weird as Laughn’s with his damn death noodles.

“Why are you here?” he snaps.

Anger instantly flashes through me at his tone and the accusation in his words. “You drove me here, dickhead.”

“Not what I mean, Jolie. You might have them fooled, but it can’t be that simple.”

I take a few steps towards him, poking him in the chest. “You listen here. Nothing in my life has beensimple. I had some kind of accident when I was a kid, causing me to have memory loss. My best friend, Trace, was the only one there to take care of me and then he up and left me, promising that he would be back. Just when I think he has returned for me, someone kidnaps me, chases me, and thenvery convenientlyBrennan saves my ass. So, however you think I have fooled everyone, it must mean they’re a bunch of idiots because I have nothing to hide. I have told Brennan that as soon as I graduate, I’m gone. None of you will ever see me again.”

His curiosity and almost amusement at my outburst turns to pure evil when I say I’m leaving.

He grabs my arms. “You’re not going anywhere!”

“I hate to break it to you, but you can’t stop me.” I try to rip my wrists back, but he has a good grip.

“He isn’t coming back,” he says, and I shake my head. I don’t want to hear this. “He should have come back for you. Anyone who leaves you behind is an idiot.”

With that, he pulls me into his body, and I struggle against his hold. I look up at him and he stares into my tear-filled eyes.

“Looking into your eyes is like home.”

The hairs on my arms raise and goosebumps line my skin. Déjà vu hits me with a sudden intensity. Just like with Case, I swear I have heard that before.

“Davis, have?—”

He cuts me off when his mouth crashes into mine.

Before I can overthink it, I lean into him, and the kiss turns frantic, like the clashing of waves in a storm. My hand wanders under his shirt, his lips leaving mine only long enough to take a step back so he can slip the material over his head. My shirt joins his on the floor, then layer after layer our clothes are thrown to the floor.

I jump up and wrap my legs around his waist as he walks us backwards towards the bed. He crawls up the mattress with me clinging to him for dear life, my hands not wanting to leave his skin.

“Are you sure you want this?” he asks, looking at me as if he can read my mind.

“Yes.”

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