Page 33 of Wicked Deceit
He gives me a sharp nod and kisses my cheek like he thought I’d really forget about him. I may have three other boyfriends to keep me company, but nobody compares to Chase Benoit. Not even them.
“Better not,” he whispers.
“Dude,” Seger whines, pushing off his car. “You sound like a needy girlfriend. It’s only a week. She’ll text you every day, and you’ll live.”
Chase wrinkles his nose and lets go. “Fine. I’ll just… miss this. You’ll be here, doing God knows what, and we’ll be down in Louisiana with grandma and grandpa, sulking and not having any fun.” Chase frowns, and his entire body deflates.
When his eyes fall to the ground in shame, I know exactly where his mind wanders off to. Like a never-ending loop, his thoughts stray back to his dad, who sits in prison on false embezzlement charges by the Apocalypse bastards. Although we verified the FBI isn’t holding him and it’s Veritas instead keeping him locked away, we still don’t have many answers. I’ve investigated his paper trail online several times, trying to gauge when he’ll be released or if Veritas has anything on him. And they don’t—not really. They’re either protecting him by hiding him, knowing everything there is to know about the case. Or they’re in the dark, trying to figure everything out and keeping him safe. Either way, they locked Tate Benoit away for something. And it’s still up to us to break him out and clear his name.
“It’ll be okay. We’ll text and Facetime,” I say, rubbing my fingers along the scruff of his jaw, enjoying the roughness against my palms.
Humming under his breath, he leans into my hand and lays his on mine. His eyes light up, brightening his entire face. “Naked FaceTime?” He asks, bouncing on his toes with excitement. “Oh, Sunshine! They can lay you on the bed and—”
“Ew gross, Chase,” Ainsley screeches in horror, slapping him across the back of the head. “I’m standing here, too.” My cheeks heat when she shakes her head in disapproval and scrunches up her perfect face in disappointment. “I don’t need to hear about your… your… God—your sex life!”
Chase frowns, rubbing his head. “Shit, Ains! I am going to miss my girlfriend. Is that such a damn crime?” He grumbles, scowling at her like he wants to push her away.
She huffs, but a playful smile crosses her lips. “No, it’s not a crime. I like your girlfriend. I just wish you wouldn’t, you know, announce to the world about your private FaceTime sessions.” She playfully gags, sticking her finger down her throat and dry heaves toward the ground.
“What about private FaceTime sessions?” Zepp asks, blinking up from his phone like a zombie, coming into the conversation without a clue.
I don’t blame his zoned out look though. Ever since his father made his great escape last night, he's been in constant contact with the home nurse trying to ensure it doesn’t happen again. Unfortunately, the nurse informed the boys that it would probably happen on more than one occasion, and the only solution would be tying him to the bed. Which, yeah, they don’t want to do that to him. They’d rather him have free roaming privileges and ride out the later parts of his dementia with him at peace and free. So, Zepp is currently looking into trackers he can place in his father’s shoes so they always know where he is, ensuring that if he does escape, then he’ll be found safely.
“We’ll be having them. Lots of them!” Chase whoops, throwing a fist in the air. “And I won’t miss a damn thing!” His face lights up at the thought of being included, and I’m so damn glad, too.
I’d hate for him to miss anything–not that he would. But still…where was I going with this? I cock my head, imagining all the many, many shenanigans we could get into over a video call and nearly moan on the spot. Fuck. I gotta focus on what’s going on around me. I blink rapidly, catching the eye of Chase, and he winks at me–fucking winks. My cheeks heat. I must have been pretty transparent with my thoughts again. Shit.
“This has been nice and all, but we need to head out, Chase. Grandma already texted me asking if we were at the airport yet.” Ainsley peers down at her phone and types out a reply.
“Don’t have too much fun without me, Sunshine,” Chase whispers, quickly placing his lips on mine.
Our tongues swirl rapidly together in a desperate goodbye filled with groans and moans. My fingers curl into the front of his shirt, pulling him impossibly close. I nearly gasp when a weird sensation trickles over me at the thought of Chase being across the country. For months now, I’ve had him by my side and gotten used to his fantastic cooking, cuddles, and laughs.
“We fucking won’t. We’ll be fucking working,” Carter grunts, heaving a bag over his shoulder. He pops the back end of his Tahoe, throws his bags inside, and shuts it with a thud.
“Wait, work?” I frown. “What are you talking about? This is vacation, damn it,” I pout at the prospect of work.
Zepp gives me a tight smile. “You are taking a field trip over break. Ask him,” he says, nodding his head toward a scowling Carter, who huffs.
“And fucking fighting lessons,” Carter grunts, crossing his arms.
“F-fighting lessons?” I gape between him and Seger.
“Yeah, Angel! It’ll be your dream come true. Your hot and sweaty boyfriends pummeling one another so you can learn to defend yourself.” Seger wiggles his brow as those vivid images pop into my mind.
His words take me back to when I spied on Seger and Carter in the old abandoned gym, beating the shit out of one another. Then my mind jumps to when I stupidly went there and took care of Carter’s wounds, and he told me off and called me dumb. Shit, he calls me names all the time. Now, they’re endearing instead of insulting—if that’s a thing. Who knew the word bitch could make butterflies erupt in my stomach? I fan myself at the thought of them all sweaty, hot, and furious, pounding their fists into each other’s faces. Blood dripped down their jaws and eyes. Seger always got the worst of it, and Carter came out on top without injury. Well, except that one time in the gym when I cleaned his wounds after he kicked Seger’s ass. But other times I think the man is a damn wizard with healing abilities. But damn, it made me feel things I hadn’t felt before. So, if I got to experience that up close and personal—sign me the fuck up.
“We’ll discuss it later,” Zepp murmurs, nodding towards a familiar-looking car pulling into the lot.
Shit, fuck! My stomach drops out of my ass. I was so caught up in Chase’s crushing embrace; I forgot who was picking me up and why I wanted my weird boyfriends as far away as possible.
“Holy shit,” Chase squeaks, standing rigid by his sister. His eyes widen in glee or horror—I’m not sure. But I swear he turns blue from holding his breath for so long.
“Body Slammer,” Seger gapes, dropping his arms to his side. “It’s fucking Body Slammer!” He squeals like a fangirl, looking excitedly at Chase while jumping up and down. My eyes widen at his fanboy ways, and I watch in horror, as my other boyfriends, sans Carter, join in. Are they going to start a Body Slammer Fan club? Seger would be the damn president, and Chase would be by his side.
“Fuck,” I hiss when my gigantic football player brother climbs out of the driver’s side of his car, followed by my sister from the passenger’s side.
No. No. No. This couldn’t get any worse. Why? Why did my mom insist my siblings come and get me? Why couldn’t I have been given another car after mine was keyed and totaled? Then this wouldn’t be an issue! I’m being punished, that has to be it. The big guy in the sky must be looking down at me and laughing at my pain. I groan at the sight of Bodhi meandering towards us with a shit-eating grin. He’s up to no good, and I can already tell before he opens his stupid mouth, that he’s about to torture me. Dear God, I hope he doesn’t figure my relationship out. He’ll either kill them or tell my dad–and I can’t decide which is worse.
