I shouldn’t trust him, but strangely, I do. He hasn’t lied to me yet. “Goodbye.”

“Red.”

My finger hovers over the red button to hang up, but I hesitate. “What?”

“Let’s stop playing this coy shit. Friday. Eleven. The Broken Tree. The first guy who talks to you will be me. I want you in that bathroom with your skirt up and my cock buried inside you within five minutes.”

I can barely breathe. I may have fucked Rafe under nearly identical circumstances, but I could at least pretend I didn’t know he was a murderer. Wolf has blood on his hands, and he’s not even trying to convince me otherwise. “Now who’s playing coy? Friday is days away, and I just whetted my appetite. Who knows what I could get up to in the meantime.”

“You know what happens if you let someone else touch what’s mine.”

“You keep saying that as if I’m a sure thing. I’m not.” Probably.

He laughs harshly. “Yes, baby, you are. The only question remaining is how many people you’re going to get killed while you pretend otherwise.”

“I’m not meeting you.”

“See you Friday. And leave the panties at home.” He hangs up.

“Mother . . . fucker.” Am I breathless at his audacity or because the thought of obeying makes my pussy clench?

I don’t know.

The ache in my body only gets worse as I mentally play through the scenario he painted. Of his rough voice in my ear as he picks me up and sets me on the bathroom counter. Of his possessive touch as he flips up my skirt and fucks me like he owns me. I hate it and love it in equal measure, but it gets me so hot, I can barely stand it.

I spread my thighs wide. “If you’re watching, Wolf . . . enjoy the show.” I don’t stop for a very, very long time.

OceanofPDF.com

4

The tension of waiting for Friday is getting to me. Luke is gone more often than he’s home again today, and I think there’s another trip on the horizon. Not that it’s my business anymore. Wolf has been remarkably silent since I masturbated on the phone with him. I should be grateful for the small reprieve, but I can’t help feeling like this absence is the calm before a storm. I still haven’t decided whether I’m going to answer his summons or not, and I have just over twenty-four hours left.

Either way, I’m pathetically grateful for the distraction of Michelle inviting me out.

I keep a wary eye on my phone as I get ready. It should be a relief not to hear from Wolf today—maybe he’s gone off to terrorize some other mafia princess—but I find myself checking my cell more than is wise. And every time there’s nothing from him, my stomach dips a little.

My phone buzzes, and I get another of those awful dips when I realize it’s Michelle video calling. I give myself a shake and paste a smile on my face. “Hey, girl.”

“I forbid you from cancelling.”

That surprises a laugh out of me. “Who says I’m thinking about cancelling?”

“Call it my best friend superpower.” She looks amazing, as always, her hair pulled back in a wet look that gives fuck-me-in-the-shower vibes. “Check out this dress.” She turns the camera to face a full-length mirror, and I actually gasp. The dress is stunning, a slick bodycon masterpiece that hugs her generous curves and looks almost transparent. She moves, and I realize the translucence a trick of the light and fabric. Clever.

“There’s no way your dad is letting you out of the house in that.”

“I’m an adult and can make my own clothing decisions.” She sounds startlingly like her mother when she says it. Michelle flips the camera back around and glares into it. “My superpower was right. You’re not even ready.”

“I just need to put on my dress.” I spent entirely too much time on my makeup and hair, fighting my straight tresses into some semblance of waves and pairing subtle smokey eyes with crimson lips.

She frowns like she doesn’t believe me. “What dress are you wearing?”

“I don’t know now. You’re going to show me up,” I say teasingly.

“Yeah, yeah, I show everyone up.” She closes her eyes, and I get the distinct impression that she’s going through my closet by memory. Michelle has inherited her mother’s fashion sense, but not the desire to create clothing for other people. “The sheath dress. The black one. Don’t wear anything under it but your best lingerie. We’re getting you fucked tonight, my friend.”

The dress she’s talking about actually is sheer. The cut is loose and high along my throat, but it barely hits the tops of my thighs, and while it hangs dramatically wide, it’s meant to be worn with a shift underneath. “Bold statement.”

“On all counts.” She grins, completely unrepentant. “Also, Zayne is coming out. I couldn’t convince Guinevere to join us, and Cassim never returns my calls, so he didn’t get an invite. Jo is busy doing . . . something . . . with Kiley and Sunara. Probably playing checkers with how boring those three are. Talia said maybe.”

“Talia always says maybe and then doesn’t come.” The heirs and spares of Carver City all attended a private school on neutral territory in our formative years. I think the goal was to create a bond between us so that the peace would last past our parents’ generation. It worked with me and Michelle—and Zayne, though he’s a spare. The rest? We’re friendly enough when it’s required, but I wouldn’t call us friends.

“Hope springs eternal. I called you a car. It will be there in ten, so you better be ready. Love you, see you soon.” She hangs up before I can curse her out for being bossy.

I grab the dress she recommended, though. And while I throw on my best black lace panties, I bypass the bra entirely. Instead I take a minute to use some makeup to make my nipples appear like hearts. Michelle wants to get me fucked tonight? I’m going to make sure it happens.

What happens if Wolf kills them?

I shove the thought aside. I can’t even prove he killed Rafe, for all that he acted like he’s responsible. He might have been bluffing.

The reasoning feels flimsy, but I don’t let that stop me from yanking on sky-high heels and hurrying down to the sidewalk to meet the car Michelle called. As it pulls from the curb, my phone dings with a text.

Wolf

Going somewhere?

I glare at my phone. So he was watching me today. He just decided that I didn’t deserve attention. Well, fuck that. If he won’t give me attention, then someone else will. I snap a picture of myself, ensuring he can clearly see my heart-shaped nipples. I send him the photo.

I’m going to get fucked.

Wolf

Baby, you try my patience. Friday is tomorrow.

I grin even as my heart beats faster.

I already told you I’m not showing up.

Wolf

Liar.

You’re just my stalker. You don’t get to tell me what to do.

Wolf

Wrong on both counts.

Do you like my dress, BABY?

Wolf

Flashing your tits at anyone who looks. You’re about to make me have to blind the whole damn club.

I snort.

Wolf

Don’t try to call my bluff tonight, Ruby. You won’t like what happens.

I stare at my phone. This is the first time he’s called me by my actual name. The warning is a big flashing neon sign. It makes me wet.

I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me. At this point, I’ve made my peace with it. I’ve spent my whole life unaware of how deep my well of recklessness truly goes—at least until recently. Now I’m in a speeding car with no brakes. Crashing is the only way to stop.