Page 127 of The Fake Husband Deal

Before I could do anything, my head was covered with a dark cloth bag.

“What the fuck? What’s going on?”

“We’re just the messengers. You’re the package,” Drew said.

“What?” I tried to remove the bag from my head, but they held my hands and then tied them behind my back.

“Don’t fight it. We have orders from…um…someone important.”

I sighed. “If my brothers have anything to do with this, I’m going to break into their apartments and put bags of flees inside their beds.”

All I heard was laughter as they guided me away from our location.

There was nothing I could do but go along with it. After a short walk, they helped me into a car.

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

“Not likely with a fucking bag over my head. How am I supposed to sit with my hands like this?”

There was a silence.

“Um…if you promise not to take the bag off your head, we’ll untie you.”

“Fine. This is ruining my hair.” When they released my hands, I sat back and felt my way to lock the seatbelt into place.

I had no idea where they were taking me, but it took for freakin’ ever.

“We’re here,” West said. “We’re going to hand you over to someone else. They’re helping you get dressed. Please don’t ruin this.”

That was unlikely because now I was curious about what was going on so I played along nicely.

They helped me out of the car and then asked me to wait. The air smelled familiar, like a park or somewhere with a lot of grass.

“Do you think if we abandon him here, we can split his half of Mom and Dad’s inheritance?” Adam asked.

“Absolutely.”

I heard a high-five.

“Assholes. What’s going on?”

“Raise your hands,” Lex said. He helped me out of my T-shirt, careful not to remove the bag. Then he put my arm through a sleeve and went around my back to the other arm, doing buttons up to my neck.

“I hope this is ironed, and it’s one of my nice shirts,” I moaned.

It took longer to get me fully dressed in what I had to guess was a suit than if they’d taken the bag off and allowed me to dress myself.

They finished with shoes, and then I was led away again.

The gravel under my feet turned to soft grass.

“I better not get bag hair when you take this shit off,” I complained.

“We’re here,” Adam said.

“Where?”