Page 8 of Hostile Cravings
Sitting in the front seat and ignoring Breck’s grumble about having to sit with her, I stared ahead, my anger boiling over to the point that I knew I’d need a few rounds with the punching bagwhen we made it home. Angie huffed in the back, griping about the cold, the ride, the plane, really anything she could come up with. If complaining were a competition, she’d win the gold medal.
“Do you ever shut up?” I asked, glancing back at her.
Her eyes narrowed, and she crossed her arms before she ignored me and looked out the window.
“Huh, apparently you do.” I turned back around, the heel of her sandal hitting my shoulder before it flopped on the floor in front of me. Glaring back at her, my blood pressure rose. “Don’t be a cunt.”
“Fuck you.”
“I thought we established I would do no such thing. And I thought I warned you not to hit me again.” The anger was so intense I was seeing red and I knew if a seatbelt wasn’t holding me in, I’d have jumped into the back seat and strangled her.
“I didn’t hit you,” she replied, tipping her head up. “My shoe did.”
Breck tried to stifle his laugh, but he failed, and I shot him a look. “Don’t make me lock you in the same room with her all night, Breck,” I warned.
His smile faltered, and I saw the horror in his eyes. Even my henchmen didn’t want to be alone with her. Turning back around, I tried to calm my breathing, thanking Mason for building the airstrip close to the house.
The ride, although quick, seemed like hours. Angie muttered under her breath the rest of the way, cursing me through most of it. When we pulled through the gates, she went quiet and I knew it wasn’t from the sight. The Donelli estate was just as massive as ours, so I could only assume it was reality finally settling in for her. She was in our territory now, a temporary part of our family and for someone as sheltered as she was, that was a lot to take in.
In true Angie style, she didn’t stay quiet for long. On her first step from the car, the complaintsstarted.
“This is where you live? In the boring country? Where are the clubs? The nightlife? The people?”
“Far enough away for you to keep your legs closed,” I mumbled, trying to ignore the goosebumps on her skin. Night had fallen and although the days were warm, the nights were still chilly. She was trying her best not to let it show that she was cold, balling her hands into fists and clamping her mouth shut…until she started complaining again.
“This is a nightmare. I hate the country. Do you even have a pool? Why is there gravel under my shoes?”
I rolled my eyes and pushed past her, walking into the house and considering if closing the door on her was an option. Mason and Casey were in the kitchen, and Mason hadn’t heeded my warning. He had Casey on the counter, his hands on her ass as they kissed.
“Dammit, Mace. I told you to keep your hands off her,” I grumbled.
“Not gonna happen. She’s too sexy not to touch,” he replied, giving her another kiss before helping her hop down.
“Casey!” Angie yelled, running over to her and hugging her. Mason and I looked at each other, his eyes questioning if this was normal. Which it wasn’t. But then again, none of this was normal for Angie, and Casey was part of her life at home.
“Hey, Anj,” she replied, freeing herself from Angie’s hold and shooting me the same confused look Mason had given me.
I shrugged, having had enough of Angie to last a lifetime and really needing to get away from her.
“Have you lost weight?” Angie asked. “Your ass doesn’t look as big.”
If Angie was smart, she’d have noticed the daggers coming from Casey’s eyes and mine. But Casey didn’t need protecting. She was good at giving it right back and would have if Mason hadn’tspoken up first.
“I hope not,” he said. “I like that ass plump.” He gave Casey a smack on her ass, and she jumped with a giggle.
I had to hand it to Mason. Even if I was still uncomfortable with their relationship, he loved my sister, everything about her, and he made her happy. As long as Casey was happy, I was happy. And there was no question that he was head over heels for her. I’d never seen him adore someone like he adored my sister.
“So you two are still a thing?” Angie said, acting like she hadn’t just insulted my sister, and Mason hadn’t just affirmed that they were. She moved closer to him, her hand ready to touch when Casey slid between them.
“Mine, Angie. You have your own.” She nodded to me, and I wanted to put her in a headlock like I used to when we were little. “Right, Ty?”
I grimaced, crossing my arms and hoping she could read the irritation in my eyes.
“Looks like the honeymoon is going well,” Mason joked, rubbing salt into the wound.
“Something like that. Casey, can you pick a room out for the bitch? I’m going to get changed and take some of my anger out on the punching bag instead of her face.”
I stormed out, but stopped in my tracks as Mason said, “Not so fast. You need to pack. Donelli called me while you were in flight. Tirenti’s not backing down, so your acting skills need improvement. You leave for the island in the morning.”
