Page 126 of The Deceptions
Me and JJ were just the spares. Bogus, if you ask me. We're equally as important in the grand scheme of things. Maybe JJ more than me. I'm just the muscle. JJ is the brains, and Hux is the leader.
So tonight, with booze running through the partygoers’ veins, they'll drop their names into a little jar and seal their fates. Some of them, anyway. They'll be lucky if we choose them. Only the ones who will enhance our organization get brought into the mix. But first, they have to go through my favorite part. Initiation tests, where we put them through tasks they need to succeed in, or they're out for good.
"You really want to bring more people into this?" JJ mutters, twisting his expression.
"Pfft," I sputter, waving a hand. "Why wouldn't I?" My shoulders square, and I lift my chin. "It's the greatest organization of all time."
Sarcasm drips from every word I spout. If it were up to me, I'd bolt in the opposite direction and never come back. But my brothers are here, and I can't leave them to fend for themselves. We're in this together. The Three Musketeers and all that jazz. Besides, I kind of like them at my side and not against me.
JJ rolls his eyes. "Greatest of all time? So great, we have to make a run tomorrow even though we're here."
Obviously, my brother, JJ, didn’t understand the sarcasm in my voice. But wait–he said a run? Ugh.
I deflate. "A run? Really? Why am I just now hearing about this?"
It's probably because I'm forced into two-a-day practices in the water, on land, and everything in between. Only a few more months to go, and the season will be over. Fuck. I'm half delighted to be out for good and half terrified I'll be bored. Ohwell. There's always the damn gym. Or maybe even baseball. No matter how much Franco hates the simplicity of the sport. I fucking love it. It’s grueling in the summer months and much more enjoyable than Water Polo. Maybe I'll be able to find a way out of this damn mess and get us out of here forever. Far, far away from the man who brought us into his home and turned us into weapons.
"If you stuck around more, you'd see the messages..." JJ trails off in his all-knowing tone.
But he knows I can't sit still. Like ever. I'm always on the go. A puppy with a damn treat to chase. I guess that's why Franco insisted I go into Water Polo. Rigorous workouts. Pre-training. You name it; we're doing it. All in the name of going to the championships.
"You could text me..." I grumble.
He sends me a scathing look. "I did. Individually. In the group text. I even left a note on the fridge." I should feel properly chastised, but I don't. I’m sure JJ tried his hardest to get a hold of me.
Oh. Well, fuck. I dig out my phone and slide through the millions of notifications I have—a lot from social media and a few texts from JJ and Hux. And even one Franco sent to us all.
Oops.
"My bad." I quickly drink, enjoying the bitter beer rolling down my throat.
"Don't complain next time," JJ quips, shaking his head. "And answer your damn phone once in a while."
"I would if I wasn't so fucking busy," I grumble. "The school year has barely started, and my schedule is so packed I barely have time to..." I make a hand motion near my poor, neglected cock, ready to spill all the beans on my lack of self-care, but JJ puts a stop to that. What? Like he doesn’t care about my well-being? Fucker.
"Don't even finish that sentence. I know it's going to involve your dick somehow." JJ takes a step back, putting a hand between us.
Well, he’s not wrong. But what gave me away? The hand motion? Or the desperate lust in my eyes?
I grin. "Aw, you don't want to hear about big Macklyn and his proud sails?" I jostle myself a little.
"What are you, a fucking sailboat now?" JJ quips, attempting to hide his smile.
"He is," I cackle, pointing toward my dick.
"You're an idiot."
"Eh, you kind of like me." I shrug, drinking again.
"Macklyn." I almost choke on my beer when Amanda's sweet voice pierces the air.
And there goes the good vibes.
You know, when I said her voice was sweet, I really meant it’s bitter and nasty. Like week old laundry mixed with vomit and shit sitting in the hot summer sun. So, yeah. Nasty and fucking awful. Just like her. She may look like a beautiful girl on the outside with her long blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes. But a manipulative demon lives deep inside her and always has. Even back in high school when she pushed Livy around and tried to act innocent.
She was never innocent. Livy was, though. My girl. She was always so tough and tried not to let us know what had been happening between the two. But we always knew. I tried to let her take care of it on her own, but I couldn’t help myself in getting retribution. Even now, despite the fucked-up circumstances, my buttercup will always be the damn queen of this roost.
Not Amanda, the girl I'd love to strangle.
