Page 46 of Deceptive Games

“Where’s your dad?”

“I don’t know!” He pressed a little harder and I winced. “I really don’t. I’d tell you if I knew. I hate him.”

“Why? Wouldn’t Daddy buy you a new car? I noticed Skeet gave you his Corvette, which is another sign that you’re not just a fuck. Start telling me the truth.”

“He let me borrow the car, it wasn’t a gift,” I snorted. “Max has treated me like shit my entire life. Josie kicked him out when she found out he’d let her husband rape me multiple times.”

Hunter’s grip loosened a fraction, his voice right next to my ear. “He let him do that?”

“His debts have haunted me since I was a kid. So whatever you’re going to do to me, hurry up and get it over with,” I demanded, my voice cracking slightly. “He doesn’t give a shit about me though, so if you think it will send him a message, you’re wrong.”

They were silent for a second before the gun was removed from my head and Hunter let me go, and I spun around to face them as Hunter spoke. “We don’t take payments in flesh. Idon’t need to force myself on someone to get my kicks,” he said gruffly, motioning to Marco. “Let’s go. She can’t help us.”

Marco looked annoyed about not being allowed to shoot me, but he did as he was told and left the room, leaving Hunter to stare at me for a moment alone.

“Are you really here looking for my dad?” I asked, and he shrugged.

“Yes, and no. There’s talk about you, you know? The fact that you’re known as Skeet’s girl has put a huge target on your head. He has a lot of enemies, Hot Shot. I’d keep my eyes open, if I were you.”

“I’m aware, I’m not stupid,” I bit out, sucking in a sharp breath when he stepped closer until he was almost touching me.

“You’re not stupid, but I can tell that Skeet keeps you in the dark about a lot. I run the Devil’s Armada crew, but you didn’t know who the hell I was because he hasn’t told you shit. We’re the least of your problems because we run our crew like the Psychos. Other crews, though? They’re old school. They’d kidnap you, gang rape you, then return you broken and bleeding without a second thought, just because they can.”

“Why are you telling me this?” I choked out, hating that I was eating up this information, but he was right, Skeet didn't tell me shit.

“Skeet thinks keeping you in the dark about it will keep you safe, but it won’t. I don’t find joy in the thought of you paying for his sins. When he fucks up, and he will, run to me. I’ll do what he won’t. Why hasn’t he killed those who hurt you? If you were my girl, they’d be dead and buried by now.”

“I’d never run to you for help,” I answered as he turned to leave, and he smirked over his shoulder.

“You will. I’d almost bet money on it.”

I barely even breathed until I heard their motorcycles start outside, and I ran to the window to make sure they both left.

My phone was lying on my bed, and I contemplated calling Skeeter, but paused. They hadn’t actually hurt me, and the Psychos were already annoyed that Skeeter kept running off to help me.

Calling him would just cause more drama.

I startled as my phone rang in my hands, and I frowned when Slash’s name flashed across the screen.

“Morning, Satan,” I said flatly as I answered, hoping he didn’t sense any of my panic from my morning visitors.

He snorted, his car revving in the background. “Morning, cum bucket. I need to talk to you. Be dressed and ready in five minutes.”

He hung up and I groaned, glancing down at myself. I could ignore his request and just not answer the door when he arrived, but I walked towards the closet to find some clothes, getting ready for the day in record time.

I’d just made my coffee when the Mustang pulled into the driveway, texting him to let himself in. He could wait for me to have my damn coffee before yelling at me.

“I meant I wanted you waiting outside for me,” Slash grunted as he wandered into the kitchen a moment later, his eyes narrowed on my coffee. “Did you just climb out of bed?”

“Yep. Make pleasant conversation until I finish my coffee. I’d hate to get mad and stab you before the caffeine touches my soul,” I deadpanned, making him roll his eyes.

“Hurry up, I want to take you somewhere.”

“I’m not stupid enough to get in a car with you.”

“What do you think I’m going to do? Kill you?”

“You might.”