Page 43 of Wicked Deceit
“You assholes have a group chat without me?” She huffs with accusation just as my apartment door bursts open and stifles a yelp.
“Heya, Angel,” Seger rumbles, sweeping her into his arms. He frowns when she sits stiffly in his lap, glaring at me until I throw my hands in the air. “Why is she pouting? What did you do to her?” He raises a brow, eyeing me like I fucking did something.
“You guys have a group chat without me, and he won’t tell me what’s in the bag,” she says, cocking her head to the side and examining the bag like she might glimpse through it and see what I'm hiding.
I curse under my breath when her pleading eyes turn to me again, and she bats her long eyelashes. I’m so fucking whipped. It’s ridiculous.
“You told her about the boyfriend-in-laws group chat?” Seger fake accuses with a gasp, making our girlfriend pout even more.
What the fuck is this life?
I turn toward the other West, who stands stock still in the doorway of my apartment. His eye twitches when his eyes wander, taking in my entire apartment. A horrified expression passes over his ghostly white face, devoid of any color.
I frown. What the fuck is he looking at? I wrinkle my nose at the piles of dirty clothes and dirty plates and a half-eaten sandwich on the kitchen counter. When the fuck did I leave that there? I scratch my chin but shrug. Maybe I can still eat it.
“You got a fucking problem, West number two?” I goad when he directs his eyes toward me and slams my apartment door shut with a thud, shaking the walls.
Thank God none of the other students are around for our small group meeting in my apartment. To the Apocalypse, I hope it seems like I’m doing my fucking job by getting close to these assholes and her. But for what I have planned next, I’m glad no dickbags are left on campus. Even the security guards are scarce but usually flee when I’m in the vicinity. The out-of-country students left to be with their friends’ families, and the staff traveled home to enjoy Thanksgiving with their families tomorrow. Even Shaw, thank fuck. So tonight, it’s just us here. I’ve entirely blocked any ounce of technology from working on this campus besides my computer and their phones.
“Don’t fucking mind him, Grumpy. Your apartment is going to give him a coronary. He’ll be fine,” Seger says, antagonizing his damn brother to the point Zepp marches forward and sits next to a still pouting Kaycee. “Maybe,” he murmurs.
I huff in fake annoyance at the stupid fucking nickname they gave me. So what if I’m goddamn grumpy? I have a right to be a downright asshole to everyone around me. Maybe. Or maybe I’m just an insufferable dick who has been through a shit ton in my life to fill the depths of hell up with my anguish. Perhaps that’s it. Or I’m just a dick. I’ll go with that.
“What did you find?” Zepp asks, sweat running down his forehead, and refuses to meet my eyes.
I eye Seger as he cradles my girlfriend, and I shake my head. At one point in my life, I could have taken the West twins out with the snap of my fingers, but now I can’t. Because the woman I’m attached to is fucking in love with them, too. And—okay. They’re all right—I fucking guess.
“Piper caught us coming out of Cushing’s office,” Kaycee says with a disgusted look, bringing back the memories of our encounter with Piper.
Fuck my life. That Piper bitch was sent from hell to fuck everything up. Our parents aren’t even fucking married. Francesca just showed up one day with the little psycho in tow. My father proclaimed they were together, and that was that. But now that Piper saw Kaycee there, I know she’ll tell him. And if she realized we were coming out of his office—well—I’m fucking dead. He’ll have my ass somehow.
“She what?” Zepp hisses, jumping to his feet.
“She fucking caught you?” Seger asks, tightening his grip on Kace.
“Why was she even there?” Zepp asks with an undercurrent of accusation, narrowing his beady little eyes at me.
I grind my teeth, jumping to my feet so I can see eye to eye with West number two.
“What? Do you think I fucking invited that psycho ass bitch to my house where her mom lives and fucks my dad? You think I said, “Oh, hey, Pipes! Come to my fucking house while I ransack my dad’s office and hope to catch him in a bunch of fucking lies?” Heat encases my cheeks as my hands tighten into fists. The same fists I want to sink into West number two’s face. I push my nose into his, and he pushes back, never missing a beat.
“Whoa!” Kaycee yelps, jumping to her feet. She bravely pushes us apart, keeping her back to Zepp, who snarls at her and then at me. Her fingers run the length of my heaving chest as she squishes in between us and tilts her head.
“She was there unexpectedly. She invited me to her Thanksgiving dinner tonight….” Kaycee’s nose crinkles when she recounts Piper’s terrible invitation.
“But I said no fucking thanks, and we hightailed it out of there before Piper could get any more suspicious. I don’t think she realized what we were doing, but yeah, she fucking saw Kace,” I growl, running my hand through my hair twice, and then look back up at Zepp and snarl my next words. “You think I’d bring that psycho fucking bitch to my house, too? She fucking lives there, very fucking rarely, but she does. And so does her drugged-up whore of a mom. I got Kaycee into that fucking office undetected. We did our damn thing and fucked off afterward. Plus, we got what we needed, or hopefully will.” I grind my teeth together at the thought of all our hard work not fucking working. Who the hell does my father have working for him that aids in his tech bullshit? They’re almost as good as me—almost being the keyword. Whoever it is, they can’t compete with me and my company. They’re good, but I’m fucking better—I’m fucking Carter Cunningham.
If Piper mentions that Kaycee was there to my fucking father, it could go one of two ways. He could be furious that I brought her to our home and inside his forbidden office. Or, he could be delighted I’m making headway with her, considering he is, in fact, the asshole who demanded it. I’m leaning more in that fucking direction than anything. Or fucking hoping, anyway.
Zepp sighs, wiping his hand down his jeans. “So, what did you find out?” He swallows hard, turning green. I swear to fuck. He’s about to lose his shit on my floor if I don’t get his ass out of here.
“Nothing fucking yet. He must have something big on his end. It’s throwing up all kinds of walls and fighting against the disc that should just easily breakthrough to see what the fuck he’s doing. So, I have another program working on cutting through the tape. It’ll take some time.” I run a hand through my hair, heaving a sigh.
My eyes linger on my computer screen for a split second, knowing it will take a few more hours to break through.
“So, we have a few hours to kill? We’re staying at the damn maze house tonight,” Seger groans. “I’m so fucking tired of my stepmom and her weird looks. Ever since Kace hacked her shit and set her straight, she won’t meet our eyes.” He shakes his head in disgust, and I raise a brow as Zepp mutters an agreement.
Ah, right. All three of them took my fucking computer and hacked that bitch’s shit before they got into the car wreck. I crack a smile, thinking about the website they found their stepmom on. And then it falls thinking that the Apocalypse got to her, too, threatening her life if she didn’t provide them with fifty grand a month. God, these fucks need to go down.
