Page 29 of Watch Your Back (Devil’s Backbone #2)

I’m so fucking confused. Everything feels so incredibly out of control right now, and the only thing reassuring me that we aren’t being manipulated or hypnotized on the regular IS all the cameras I’ve set up to record our every movement.

Breach of privacy? Absolutely. But I’d rather invade my friends’ privacy than risk more gaps of time in our memories.

More mysterious bruises and scratches or more achingly realistic “nightmares” giving glimpses of what we’ve done.

Trouble was, those cameras captured everything…in every room of our apartment.

DOES this make me a pervert? Undoubtedly yes. But still, I haven’t told anyone about the surveillance and I haven’t turned the cameras off. I try to tell myself it’s for all our safety. But I no longer believe myself.

S omehow—don’t ask me how because I was still confused—the guys convinced me that I needed to stay with them a little longer.

I mean, I’d seen it coming a mile away when Royce packed half my closet into my “overnight” bag, but the whole sleeping arrangement conundrum led me to think it was only temporary.

Apparently, I was wrong.

“This is getting silly,” I muttered the following weekend when I padded barefoot into the kitchen. Nate had just woken up on the sofa bed again and looked like he’d had a shitty night again. “You need your room back. I can just bunk in with one of the guys so you can stop sleeping out here.”

Nate yawned heavily, stretching his arms over his head and making my brain short-circuit for a hot second. Bloody hell, these guys were inhuman.

“Nope,” he said, seeming happy to leave it at that as he went to work folding up the bed linens.

Frustrated, I went to help, as I’d done the last few mornings. “You’re being childish, Nate. It’s not going to cause World War Three if I crash with Carter for a night. Or shit, Royce has been sleeping in my bed for months. What difference would it make if I repaid the favor?”

Nate shot me a confused scowl. “In your bed? He said he was sleeping on an air mattress.”

I blinked a few times, then nodded slowly. “Right. Same thing. So I could sleep on an air mattress here, or we can keep it very easy and I sleep here on the sofa bed, or…crazy idea…I just go back to the dorms and stop causing issues?”

“Nope,” he said again, taking the folded quilt from my arms and stacking it with his pillows. “You have work this morning?”

I rolled my eyes, irritated at the blatant change of subject. “Yeah, I’ve got a double shift to cover someone who called in sick. I’ve got a few minutes before I need to leave, if you want me to take Lady over to the park?”

“Nah, Carter can do it. She’s his dog. Give me five minutes and I’ll drop you off.” He said it so fucking casually that I wouldn’t have thought twice about it coming from anyone else. But Nate? Alarm bells went off.

“Why?” I asked as he started to head toward his bedroom, which I’d been inhabiting all week. “Why are you being so nice, Essex? This isn’t like you. Are you?—”

“Ha-ha, funny,” he snarked. “I’m not hypnotized. I’m very clearly just preemptively banking good karma for any future conflicts that may or may not arise.”

Weirdly, I couldn’t tell if that was a joke or not. With Nate, it was hard to tell.

As tempting as it was to sneak in and wake Heath up—early morning snuggles were fast becoming our thing, like how late-night showers with Carter were becoming a thing—I didn’t want to be late for work.

So I filled Lady’s water and fed her breakfast while waiting for Nate, then headed down to the parking garage with him a few minutes later.

“I don’t know why I keep letting you guys drive me places,” I admitted out loud as we got into his enormous truck. “I have my own car, and it works just fine.”

Nate just shot me a sidelong glance, then focused on reversing his huge vehicle out of the parking space.

“Some might say,” he murmured thoughtfully as he kept his focus on driving, “that you’ve been relying on yourself for so long that maybe you subconsciously enjoy the feeling of being taken care of in little ways. ”

I scowled. “I’m not an invalid, nor am I some kind of weak woman desperately seeking a man to lighten her mental load.”

He rolled his eyes. “Is that what I said? Fuck, woman, stop trying to put insults in my mouth. It’s not a fucking bad thing; it’s just psychology. How old were you when you got your first job? And I don’t mean a pennies-on-the-dollar job. I mean one where you contributed to household bills.”

My jaw tightened. “Fourteen.”

Another sidelong glance. “Seriously? Doing what?”

I cleared my throat, feeling uncomfortably vulnerable being so honest with Nate. “I was doing deliveries for a pharmacy, actually. For elderly folk who couldn’t leave their homes but needed their medication.”

This time his glance was sharper. “In Panner Valley? How were you getting around?”

“Bicycle,” I admitted grudgingly. “It wasn’t dangerous, if that’s what you’re implying.

It was just blood pressure medication and crap like that.

Not narcotics.” At least…I didn’t think it was.

Admittedly, I’d never paid a hell of a lot of attention to the exact prescriptions. I’d just delivered them.

“In Panner Valley,” Nate repeated, dumbstruck. “And Carina was okay with this?”

I gave a short laugh. “Carina didn’t know. She thought I was earning money through after-school tutoring.”

“Fucking hell, Layne,” he muttered, shaking his head.

“You’re proving my point here. No one is forcing you to accept rides to and from work or campus; you’re simply accepting because subconsciously you need a break from being so damn independent all the time.

” He paused, like he was letting that kernel of wisdom sink into my stubborn brain.

Then he shrugged and grinned. “Or maybe in the back of your mind, you’re aware that your Firebird is worth more money with fewer miles on the clock. ”

I chuckled. “Yeah, that’s probably it.”

We were both quiet for the rest of the drive across to the country club, and when we arrived Nate, asked what time I’d be finished. I wasn’t totally sure, so said I’d text our group chat when I needed a lift back.

Work was busy. It was a Saturday, and despite the cold, the spa bookings were back-to-back from opening till closing. The small saving grace to the long hours was that country club clients tipped really well and the club didn’t take a cut.

By the time I showered in the staff locker rooms and changed out of my uniform, I was wrecked. Every muscle in me ached, and I realized as I headed for the exit that I hadn’t texted the guys for a lift home.

“Dammit,” I mumbled, fishing out my phone. It’d be quicker and easier to get an Uber, but then that’d be a cut into my pay for the day… I should have driven myself.

“Need a ride?”

The question startled me, and I looked up from my phone to find Royce leaning against the door of his car all wrapped up in a coat and scarf but still looking cold as fuck.

“How long have you been waiting?” I exclaimed, hurrying across to him and touching my fingers to his pink cheek. “Fuck, Royce, you’re frozen!”

“I’m fine,” he replied with a grin. “But you really took your sweet- ass time getting out. Your manager said you were finishing at six?”

I threw my hands up. “Yeah, because I didn’t know you were out here waiting for me or I wouldn’t have spent twenty minutes blow- drying my hair after the shower. Give me the keys. I’m driving.”

His brows shot up, but he did as he was told, dropping the keys into my open palm. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Idiot,” I mumbled, circling around the hood of his Bugatti to take the driver’s seat. “Hello, darling,” I whispered to the car as I stroked the leather steering wheel.

“Stop dirty-talking my car, Squirrel,” Royce complained as he strapped himself in and blasted the heat. “It’s making me jealous.”

I grinned and jokingly moaned when the engine roared to life. The panicked stare Royce shot my way made me laugh out loud, but I focused on not crashing his three-million-dollar car as I eased out of the parking space.

“Can I take the long way home?” I asked, trying not to sound as gleeful as I was feeling behind the steering wheel of a supercar.

“Squirrel, you can drive us to Mexico if you want,” he replied with a lopsided smile. “I should have given you my keys months ago. How was work?”

“Long, exhausting, but good,” I replied honestly. “Clients were all super polite and tipped well, which makes it all worthwhile.” My stomach rumbled and I grimaced. “I did miss my lunch break, though. What are we doing for dinner?”

“Heath’s cooking enchiladas, I think.” He tugged off his coat, having probably warmed up enough, then shifted in his seat so he was almost facing me while I drove. “You look good driving my car. I could get used to being a passenger princess.”

I smiled, glancing at how relaxed he seemed. “I’ll order you a crown online.”

“Speaking of driving places…I was wondering if you have any plans tomorrow?” He sounded cagey all of a sudden. Less confident.

I glanced over, curious. “Um, just working on my humanities assignment. And I should probably move back into my dorm, since none of us have been arrested or even questioned by police all week. Why?”

He raked his fingers through his hair, seeming nervous. “I need to visit my mom and I was wondering if you wanted to come with? It’s a whole-day mission, though, so if you need to work on assignments?—”

“I’d love to come!” I cut him off. “Are you kidding? I’ve got two weeks before I need to hand that one in. It’s not urgent. Where does she live? Why have I never heard you mention your mom before?”

Royce gave a soft laugh, swiping his hand over his face. “Ah, well…I don’t see her super often. She lives in Hastings…or more specifically in Clearview Correctional Facility.”

Shock saw me jerk my gaze to his for a moment before I remembered I was driving and jerked my eyes back to the road. “Oh. She’s…a warden?”

Royce grinned. “No, Squirrel. She’s an inmate.”

Well, fuck . “Oh. Um. What did she do?”

He drew a deep breath and released it with a heavy exhale. “According to her? Nothing. According to the state? Mass homicide so…she’s in there for life. Fun fact, I was actually born in prison.”

My jaw dropped. “What? Royce, you ass, you can’t give me mind-blowing information about yourself while I’m focusing on not hurting your sexy car! What the fuck?”

He chuckled. “Yeah, well, I can give you my whole sad story while we’re on the road tomorrow, if you want?”

“Um, yes,” I enthused. “Yes, please. Fuck, Royce, I feel like I don’t even know you.” I frowned, flicking my eyes to his briefly. “Not in a bad way. Just…I dunno. I’m a crappy friend for never asking about your story.”

“Nah,” he replied, relaxing in his seat once more. “You’ve just had a lot going on. But…things are different now. Right?”

I wet my lips and nodded. “Sure feels that way.”

For the rest of the drive home, we chatted about lighter topics, like Carly’s new boyfriend, and laughed about the whining voicemail Paige had apparently left on Royce’s voicemail during the week.

Then when we arrived back at the apartment, we walked right in on what seemed to be a fairly intense argument between Carter, Heath, and Nate.

“Um, hi?” I said when everyone shut right the fuck up after we opened the door. “What’s going on?”

Nate shot a pointed look at Carter, who had his arms folded firmly across his chest with a stubborn-fuck expression on his face. “Go on, Bass. Tell Layne what you did. See what happens.”

My eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Carter…what did you do?” Because he’d already cut my name into his flesh—which was thankfully healing well with daily tending—so what could possibly be worse?

Suddenly, Carter seemed a little less confident, his gaze shifting from me to Royce and back with an edge of nervousness. “Maybe we can talk in private, Spark?”

Heath scoffed. “Yeah, right. I want to watch her slap the shit out of you. To be clear, Ashes, I told him this was a bad idea, and he did it anyway.”

“Wow, really just hanging me out to dry,” Carter grumped. “Pricks. And you said it was a good idea earlier in the week.”

Heath held his hands up in a defensive gesture. “I said it was a good idea if Ashley agreed . I never said go ahead and do it without consulting her. That’s your grave to lie in, you dipshit.”

“Someone start explaining!” I shouted, losing my patience. Then, as I snapped, I noticed the suitcases lined up neatly in the hallway. My suitcases. “What the… Carter, what did you do?”

He huffed a frustrated sigh. “I canceled your dorm room and it got reassigned, so we needed to move all your stuff today before the new student moves in. Carly helped.”

As if somehow Carly helping made it all okay. My eye twitched as I looked from my suitcases to Carter and back again at least a half dozen times, then squeaked a strangled “Sorry, what?”

He forced an uncomfortable smile. “You live here now. Surprise!”