Page 60 of Fury
Our fingers brush during the exchange, the brief contact sending electricity up my arm. "I will."
As Zach walks away to join the others, I lean against my car, heart pounding, body still humming with awareness. I still can't believe what just happened, can't believe that the man I've wanted from afar for so long might actually want me back.
"What was that about?" Samantha asks, appearing at my side with a knowing smirk.
I can't tear my eyes away from Zach's retreating form. "I think I just got asked out by a Devil Soul."
"About damn time," my sister replies, nudging me with her shoulder. "You've only been pining after him since forever."
"I haven't been pining," I protest weakly.
"Sure, X. Whatever helps you sleep at night." She glances between me and Zach, who's now mounting his motorcycle. "Though after tonight, I'm guessing sleep isn't what's on your mind."
I don't bother denying it. Because she's right—sleep is the furthest thing from my thoughts. All I can think about is tomorrow, and the call I'll be making as soon as my shift ends.
As the party bus pulls away, filled with cheering, battle-worn women, and Zach's motorcycle roars to life, I allow himself a moment of pure anticipation. The night may be ending, but something else, something I've wanted for longer than I care to admit, is just beginning.
Livie
We pile back onto the party bus, exhausted but exhilarated, Meadow drops into the seat beside me.
"So," she says, a knowing smile on her face, "still worried about fitting back in?"
I shake my head, watching the lights of the bar recede as we pull away. "Not anymore. I think I finally found where I belong."
"You always belonged," she corrects gently. "You just needed to remember."
In the rearview mirror, I see Zach and a few other members stopped by the police, but we manage to get away before the cops can get to us, and I know that is going to piss off a lot of people because we are no longer with our escort, but I seriously don’t feel like dealing with them right now. My bed and snuggles with Greyson sound too good right now.
"Greyson is going to lose his mind when he sees you," Tiana remarks, gently touching the swelling above my eye.
"Worth it," I reply without hesitation.
Meadow grins, then winces at the pain it causes. "Cheers to that. And to the best damn girls' night this town has ever seen."
As we bump fists in solidarity, I feel something fundamental shift inside me—the last piece of a puzzle clicking into place. I am Olivia Bennett, daughter of Wilder, sister to Mason, Cole, and Harlan. Woman of Greyson Reed.
And God help anyone who threatens what's mine.
“Did you see the look on my brother’s face? He has been in love with Xavier since he was a teenager.” Tiana’s eyes are shining bright.
I smile at that. Love makes me so happy.
"You know, I'm kind of not done with those bitches," Trixie says suddenly, her voice cutting through our laughter. She sits up straighter, a dangerous gleam in her eye that I recognize from childhood, the look she always got right before suggesting something that would land us all in trouble. "Who wants to go have more fun and mess up their shit?"
The bus goes quiet as we all turn to look at her.
"What exactly did you have in mind?" Meadow asks, leaning forward with interest despite her swollen knuckles.
Trixie's smile turns wicked. "Bethany still lives in that fancy house on Oakwood Drive, right? The one her daddy bought her when she married that insurance guy?"
"Yeah," Rose confirms slowly. "The white colonial with the perfect lawn and those stupid garden gnomes she collects."
"Garden gnomes that would look much better… rearranged," Trixie suggests, her eyebrows wiggling suggestively. "Maybe in compromising positions? Or perhaps her perfect white house needs some color?"
"Are you suggesting we vandalize her property?" I ask, trying to sound disapproving but failing miserably as the image of Bethany's face finding her precious gnomes in lewd poses flashes through my mind.
"Not vandalize," Trixie corrects, holding up a finger. "Redecorate. Temporarily. Nothing permanent, nothing traceable."
