Page 20 of Pretty Vengeance

Drawing in a breath, I peer at the house. Downstairs is a safe zone these days. Since we use it less, we moved the weapons upstairs. War won’t be keen on an unexpected visitor, but I prefer to get this meeting over, so there’s a clean end to things and I can warn her to never show without warning again.

“Come inside with me.”

“Are you sure?”

“When I give a girl an order, I’m always sure.”

10

SAWYER

When I give a girl an order…Things low in my body throb at his tone and the undercurrent of sex radiating from those words. It’s the same response I had to his tightening his grip on my hand when I tried to pull away at the poker game.

There’s a dangerous edge to him. Which I’m obsessed with.

I follow Jamie up the outdoor metal staircase to the second floor of the converted factory. The air is damp and musty, like old newspapers left out in the rain, but being so close to the river is worth it.

He unlocks the door and steps inside, calling out, “Me. And a guest.”

After punching in a code on the keypad, he strides past a wall of enormous vertical windows that overlook the water. The sky is a muddled gray today, but the view is still amazing. What must it be like when there’s sunshine?

Jamie sets the bags of food on the upstairs kitchen counter. There’s an entire second floor apartment.

I stand near a smooth honey-stained wood bench in front of the middle window. The choppy surface of the dark river is a chaotic Jackson Pollack painting, with thick streaks of white and gray creating a menacing mix as the sun sets.

Jamie’s black-haired housemate emerges from somewhere in the back. He’s wearing jeans and a t-shirt now, but he’s so massive they don’t make him look less intimidating.

Earlier, as soon as he saw Ash and me, he turned and went back upstairs without saying a word to us. This time, he doesn’t disappear.

“Just this one?” the guy says in a baritone a trombone would envy. He stalks over to the windows and looks down. Is he checking to see whether we left Ash in the parking lot? Why would we?

“Just this one.” Jamie unpacks food and divides it. “Her name is Sawyer.”

The housemate’s dark eyes sweep over me. He doesn’t introduce himself. His expression’s the perfect pairing of rude and condescending. I’m used to condescension from the Allendales, but they are never rude with regard to greetings. Good breeding requires introductions. Without exception.

My hand itches to offer a handshake, but I resist the urge. This guy looks like an MMA fighter, not a GU student. Different rules apply here.

The giant rolls his massive shoulders as he scans the parking lot again. “The other one let her drive the car?”

“Apparently,” Jamie says, repacking a few things into one of the bags. “Haven’t confirmed it, though. Could be grand theft.”

The corner of the big guy’s mouth curves up. So, he does have a sense of humor buried under all that surliness. Unfortunately, it vanishes just as fast as it came. “Gotta roll soon.”

“I know.” Jamie strolls past his roommate and waves for me to follow him.

“Bye,” I murmur as I jog down the indoor steps. Apparently, we only stopped upstairs to drop off the guy’s dinner.

Now, we’re back on the main floor, which has smaller water-facing windows and a gigantic footprint. It must be ten-thousand square-feet. There are several seating arrangements of expensive modern furniture. It’s a house that looks like it should belong to rock stars, not college kids.

Down here, we can talk privately, which I appreciate.

Jamie sets his food out on the white stone island and nods for me to take a seat. He gets out two plates and forks. “Do you like fish tacos?”

“Yes.”

“Dig in. But also, say what’s on your mind, because when the food’s gone, so are you.”

I frown. He’s been so fucking unfriendly since I got here. Not that I can completely blame him. He didn’t invite me to come.