Page 124 of Unhinged

Franko salutes him lazily, like he owns the place. "My man."

Gears looks at Marcus next. "You need a room?"

Marcus shakes his head. "No. I’ll head back to my place after."

"Suit yourself," Gears says.

We all head toward the bar.

Marcus and I end up shooting pool against Franko and Candy. Turns out, Marcus is damn good. Better than me by a long shot, but he lets me take the winning shot, anyway.

When the game’s over, Arrow slips up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist. He presses a kiss to the side of my neck, making me shiver.

"I texted my sister to come down and see the car," he murmurs, lips brushing my skin. "Since tomorrow we’re planning to show you your surprise. Then have dinner."

"Good call," I tell him, leaning back into him a little. "I hope Judge is sleeping, though. It's late for him."

Arrow’s chest rumbles against my back, and he presses his face into my neck, breathing deep like he’s trying to cover me in his scent. The move makes my whole body relax without me even thinking about it.

"Can I sleep with you tonight?" he asks.

I nod without even thinking. "I want all three of you to stay with me."

Arrow’s chest rumbles against my back. "I’ll make it happen," he promises.

And in that moment, wrapped up in the people who chose me, who fought for me, I finally—finally—start to believe that maybe, just maybe, I’m not so alone after all.

The back door swings open and Dillon stomps in.

The brothers spot her and immediately start ruffling her hair and fist-bumping her like she’s one of them. She scowls, swatting their hands away, muttering under her breath about how they’re messing up her hair.

She stomps over to the pool table where I’m leaning against Arrow.

"Who's this?" Dillon asks, hitching her chin toward Marcus, her eyes sharp.

"This is my friend Marcus," I say, smiling. "Marcus, this is the guys’ little sister, Dillon."

Marcus straightens a little, looking awkward as hell, but still sticks his hand out toward Dillon.

She doesn't even hesitate. She steps right up, bold as anything, and shakes his hand firm like she’s not staring at him like he's a goddamn snack. Dillon looks him up and down slowly—like she's sizing up a brand-new Ken doll—and I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing.

My girl might still be young, but she’s got good taste.

Marcus shifts again, almost like something’s got under his skin. His nostrils flare, just once, like he’s catching a scent he wasn’t expecting. His jaw tightens, and he looks away fast. Poor bastard. Probably his PTSD acting up around new people.

I hook my arm through Dillon’s and steer her toward the door.

"Remember when we talked about my GTO?" I ask her. "And you said you weren’t giving it back?"

"Yeah," she says, side-eyeing me, suspicious.

"Well, you mentioned wanting a pink Eclipse."

Her eyes widen. "You didn’t," she squeals, voice already going giddy.

"I did," I grin.

We step outside, and when Dillon sees the pink car, she absolutely loses her shit.