Twisted Games: A Dark Gang Romance (Boys of Briar Hall Book 3)

“Why are we even doing this? It’s fucking ridiculous,” I said, kicking Corvus’ shoes out of his reach to keep him from putting them on.

He glared at me from the one eye he could see out of, the other one was completely swollen shut, and snatched his shoes from the floor.

“Because we said we would,” he groaned, falling heavily onto the small stool in the hallway of The Nest, and I could tell it pained him to reach down to pull the shoes onto his feet. The five stitches in his cheek strained as he grimaced. He had two cracked ribs and some internal bleeding, but even battered as he was, I knew he wouldn’t accept my help no matter how many times I offered.

And I had offered. Many times. After I’d laid into his dumb ass for trying to sacrifice himself Thursday night. What the actual fuck was that? I didn’t know how I felt about it other than angry as fuck.

No one had ever put my life above theirs.

“Besides,” Rook said, coming through the hall to kick his feet into his boots like the bullet hole in his leg didn’t bother him at all. “Corvus won’t be cooking jack shit with his gimp ass, and I’m hungry.”

“Dick,” Corvus hissed and Rook made a face at him, stepping out of the way for Grey to come through to get his shoes on as well.

“Dies doesn’t want us here, anyway,” he added. “It’s too secluded. He knows where we’re going and said it’s a good idea.”

I really wasn’t going to get out of this, was I?

Fuck.

“We should be scouring every inch of Edgewood for those fuckers before they have a chance to regroup,” I argued. “Just because the Aces seem to have gone to ground doesn’t mean they aren’t just biding their time. What if they make a move on Diesel? Is he all alone at his place?”

Corvus lifted a brow at me. “You think he’s an idiot?” he asked. “Of course not. They’re all at Sanctum with their families. Dies is keeping them all under lock and key until Lenny Ace is a fucking corpse.”

I frowned.

I hadn’t known that, but they still didn’t share everything with me. I didn’t think they kept it from me on purpose, they just didn’t think I needed to know.

And maybe I didn’t.

I wasn’t sure I liked the difference in how I was feeling about Diesel St. Crow. The way he’d gone straight to his sons, tended to their wounds. The vicious way he’d forced that Ace to apologize before pumping lead into his skull. And now he was keeping not only his men, but all of their families safe at Sanctum?

He also had that street cleaned up within hours of the battle, the only trace of evidence that it happened at all: the bits of blood lingering between cracks in the pavement. I didn’t have to wonder why the cops never showed up. Before we’d all gone back inside to sew up our wounds, Diesel had passed all his winnings from the match to Pinkie.

“Go pay our friends in blue,” he’d said, expression tight from the loss of winnings.

“I don’t want to go,” I tried instead, switching tactics, rolling my shoulder, feigning injury from the sniper rifle practice session this morning. I forced an overdone wince. “I changed my mind.”

“Too bad,” Corvus said gruffly as he pushed to his feet. “Get your ass in the car.”

I crossed my arms over my chest, and Corvus’ brows drew as he caught sight of the blade strapped to my ankle. “How armed do you have to be to have dinner with your aunt, Sparrow?”

My jaw clenched. “As armed as I need to be to go into battle with a rival gang.”

He caught my meaning. The fact that I had every one of my blades back where they belonged and at the ready had nothing to do with my aunt and everything to do with the fact that there could be an ambush of Aces waiting for us anywhere.

Though I doubted they would strike while it was still daylight.

“They’re gone,” Grey said, speaking aloud what all of us were thinking. “We exterminated over half their crew. They’re hiding, licking their wounds somewhere. They won’t be back for a while, if they ever come back.”

Corvus nodded his agreement. “All our sources say there’s been no gang presence in Edgewood since Thursday night. Lenny’s Hail Mary failed. He won’t risk his own ass to try some shit like that again.”

“Maybe not,” I acceded. “But they could just as easily ally with another gang as we did.”

“Who would ally with them now?” Rook asked, making no effort to disguise how idiotic he thought my statement was.

I rolled my eyes at him.

“You know what, never mind. Just tell me you’re all armed.”

Rook opened his jacket, showing the sleek mahogany grip of his gun hooking from the top of his jeans. Grey lifted the back of his jacket, showing me his piece and the hem of his jeans, flashing me a row of mags strapped there.

I looked to Corvus.

He sighed. “Don’t worry, Sparrow. I’m armed.”

“Fine,” I said in a huff. “Then let’s go sit around a table and say what we’re grateful for. Sounds like fun.”

Grey chuckled, and I sent him a deadpan stare, telling him without the need for words just how not funny I thought this was.

It’d only been two days since fight night. Our bruises were at their darkest. Our cuts were puckered black scabs. The hollows beneath our eyes were deep and the most vivid shade of purple they could be.

We were liable to give my aunt a goddamned heart attack just showing our faces at the door.

“We were in a car accident,” I decided. “No one was hurt beyond cuts and bruises, which is why we didn’t go to the ER.”

“Don’t fucking smirk at me,” I told Rook. “You’re going to regret going to this dinner by the time the night is through. I promise you that.”

My aunt’s disgusting mansion loomed around a bend in the freshly cobblestoned road ahead, seen through the heavy iron bars of her front gates.

Grey drove us up to the intercom panel and reached out to jab the button. It crackled before a male voice came through. “Can I help you?”

“Yeah,” Grey said, leaning down so the tiny camera could see his face. He flashed a smile. “Could you please let Mrs. Humphrey know that her niece has arrived for dinner.”

A pause.

“Y-yes. Certainly. Please do come in.”

The groan of a mechanical pulley system swelled in the tepid silence. The nearest neighbor was over a mile away and here, on the grounds of the Humphrey Estate, only birdsong and the distant sounds of the water fountains in the garden could be heard.

The amount of privilege and excess behind these gates was enough to make me want to vomit.

Grey drove us through, steering the Rover up the drive to the front door.

“It’s not too late to turn back,” I blurted, putting my hand over Rook’s in the backseat to stop him from opening his door.

His face lit up. “Honestly, the fact that you don’t want us to go inside so badly just makes me want to go in even more, Ghost.”

I growled, letting him go as I pushed out my own door, hating how Corvus almost lost his footing as he stepped out. He gave me a cautionary look as he shut his door, trying to gauge if I’d seen. If I would tell the others he wasn’t ready to be walking around yet.

My nostrils flared, but instead of calling him out, I looped my arm through his. “You’re an idiot,” I muttered, trying to covertly take some of his weight as we ascended the wide ivory staircase to the massive wooden front door.

Corvus scoffed in reply but didn’t pull away.

The door opened before Rook could even curl his pinkie finger around the knocker, my aunt standing there in her grand foyer, cheeks pink from too much rouge.

“There’s my niece,” she trailed off, her wide, welcoming arms dropping as she got a better look at us. Red painted nails flying to her chest to ward off the start of the heart attack I’d warned my Crows about.

“Oh dear,” she said. “What happened?”

“Car accident,” I supplied, seeing a playful gleam in Rook’s eyes I didn’t like. “It looks worse than it is.”

“You should’ve called,” my aunt said, tutting as she ushered us through the door. “Come in, come in. Let’s get you in out of this heat.” She snapped her fingers and the butler, who’s name I’d forgotten, rushed in. “Jackson, will you get ice waters for everyone?”

“Right away, ma’am,” Jackson said, bowing, his dark hair not moving at all through the movement, held hard to his head like a helmet with too much gel.

“Could I get something stronger?” Rook asked, making the butler pause. Clutching his shoulder as though it was causing him a great amount of pain. “The damned doctor wouldn’t give me anything for the pain. It’s almost unbearable.”

The butler, Jackson, looked to my aunt for guidance and she looked at Rook, assessing his suddenly drawn face. She gave Jackson a nod. “All right, dear,” she said to Rook, going over to pat him on his opposite shoulder. “Would you like some Vicodin?”

Rook perked up.

“No,” Corvus said for him. “Just a drink to take the edge off will be great, ma’am.”

My aunt gave Corvus a tight smile. “All right, well, I suppose there’s no sense in pretending eighteen-year-olds don’t drink these days.” She turned, hollering down the hall after Jackson. “Bring up a bottle of my late husband’s best, Jackson. And a few extra glasses.”

His muted voice called back that he’d heard, and Rook fought to hide a smile.

When I caught his eye, I shook my head at him, and he winked.

“Smells delicious,” Grey offered, indicating the aroma filling the room. Far off, I could hear the clatter of cookware from the staff kitchen and wondered how many staff she’d hired just to make a fucking dinner for five.

The fact that Dad and I were living in a run-down trailer for most of my life, with barely enough hot water to shower, while his sister had been living like this just a couple towns over made me feel so ill I had to swallow back the taste of bile in my throat. Had to remind myself that it was my dad’s choice to distance himself from his sister.

To not take her strings-attached handouts.

He was prideful and stubborn, but I didn’t fault him for denying her. Wouldn’t I have done the same thing on principle alone?

Besides, it wasn’t even her money. It was her dead husband’s.

My dad’s favorite theory was that she’d poisoned him to an early grave, but I couldn’t see it. The woman standing before us in a long silvery sheath of a dress with outdated blingy combs tucked in her ratty gray-brown hair wasn’t capable of murder. Not even a coward’s murder.

She didn’t even look like she could tie her own damned shoes. If anything, I pitied her. Alone out here surrounded by stuffed dead things and priceless art and a butler who pretty obviously loathed her.

“The staff has been cooking all day,” my aunt said, looking over our outfits now that she’d gotten used to the sight of our bruises. She smiled at each of my guys in turn, over-appreciative gaze finding tailored pants and brand name suit jackets left to hang open over crisp shirts. I had to admit they cleaned up good.

But they all grimed up good, so I wasn’t surprised. I liked them just as well covered in blood and leather as I did in the clean cut styles they wore now. Maybe more so.

Definitely more so.

My aunt’s smile turned into a frown as her milky eyes tracked over my attire, finding me in a thrifted skirt, black converse, and a tank top covered over in a soft black cardigan. That one wasn’t thrifted, it was lifted from the racks at Nordstrom and felt like real cashmere. It was the nicest thing I owned, but she sneered at it as if I was wearing the skin of a dead goat.

“Ava Jade, dear, would you be more comfortable in a dress? I took the liberty of purchasing a few. They’re upstairs in the spare bedroom if you’d like to—”

“I’m good.”

“AJ, don’t be rude,” Grey said, and I slowly craned my neck, leveling the full weight of my fury on him, but it only served to make him even more triumphant. The fucker. “She’d love to change.”

“No, I wouldn’t.”

Grey pouted, and I rolled my eyes.

Now was not the time for playing. We shouldn’t even be here. Goddammit.

“Come on, Ghost,” Rook said. “I’ll help you into your dress.”

He extended a hand to me, and my aunt gasped. It was her dismay that ultimately made me take his hand, slapping my fingers down onto his palm.

“H-how…how kind of your friend,” My aunt stumbled over her words just as Jackson re-entered the grand foyer with a tray containing a crystal decanter of amber liquid and five partially filled glasses.

Rook stopped before the bottom stair and reached over, snatching two glasses with his index and middle finger. “Cheers,” he said, winking at Jackson, who blanched.

Despite myself, my anger was fading fast, and I felt a traitorous grin worming onto my lips.

At least if the Aces somehow tracked us here, we’d have a veritable fortress to protect us. I knew for a fact my aunt had invested in a crazy system that locked down the entire place with metal shutters.

Silver lining.

I let Rook lead me the rest of the way upstairs while my aunt led Grey and Corvus through the dining room, not making them remove their shoes, which I remembered had been a strict rule for me during the one night I lasted in this fucking place.

“Thought it was Thanksgiving, not Easter,” Rook said, squinting at a small collection of Fabergé eggs.

“Those aren’t Easter eggs,” I said, tugging him away from them before he could grab the closest one. “They’re Fabergé eggs. Her husband gave her one every year they were married.”

“Why?”

“Why do rich people do anything that they do?”

He frowned, shrugging.

“They’re worth something like ten grand a piece, for the smaller ones.”

“Those fucking eggs?”

I nodded.

“Fucking rich people.”

“Fucking rich people,” I echoed, indicating the door down the hall.

He pushed through, and the wafting odor of fresh potpourri made both of us recoil.

“Ugh.”

Rook quickly grabbed the bowl of it from the low table just inside the door, dropping the amber liquid in its place. He crossed the room, opened the window, and tossed it outside.

I suppressed a giggle, seeing his eyes watering at the smell.

“I’m going to be honest, Ghost, I was planning to rip your clothes off the second we got into this room but…” He made a face, shutting the window again.

“What? My dark prince can’t handle a bit of shitty potpourri? Who would’ve known that was your Kryptonite.”

He narrowed his dark eyes on me, closing the gap between us in two long strides. He reached forward and grabbed my shirt, dragging me to him before tearing it into two pieces, the torn shreds catching on my arms as he ripped it off. My cunt throbbed, panties dampening at the heat in his stare.

“That was my nicest sweater.”

“Not anymore.”

“Oh!” Jackson exclaimed, appearing and then disappearing from the entrance to the room. He hovered just out of view, and I sagged, taking up one of the cups from the side table as the butler mumbled his apologies.

“I’m sorry, miss. Your aunt asked me to come and get you. She has a surprise for you and asked that you meet her and your friends in the sitting room. Again, so sorry, miss.”

Rook loomed over me, licking his lips as he reached past me for the other glass, clinking it against mine. “You heard the man, get dressed, Ghost. Your aunt has a surprise for you.”

I frowned, balking at his six foot frame, aching to have his tatted hands on my body. “Are you serious?”

His dark gaze flicked down to my pebbled nipples, and he let out a small growl before stepping away. “Deadly. Can’t keep the woman waiting, Ghost. I can rip off your dress, too. Later.”

I rolled my eyes but went to the closet, my greedy little cunt still pulsating beneath my skirt. Injured or not, I’d make him pay for this later.

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” I groaned, looking at the three dress options hanging inside the mothball scented walk-in. Each one worse than the one next to it.

Dear god.

“Come on, Ghost,” Rook was saying, a teasing tone coaxing me the rest of the way down the hall toward the low sound of conversation in the sitting room. “Let’s go show your aunt how sexy you look.”

“Rook, I look like a fucking peacock.”

He pouted. “But such a cute little peacock.”

I punched him in the arm, the one near his gun-wound, and he moaned at the pain, making me groan in response.

Whoever made this atrocity of a dress really had some fucking balls. I damn near came down in my bra and half torn shirt to keep from wearing any of the options my aunt had chosen. But Rook somehow managed to reverse psychology me into the least atrocious of the options. A fitted peacock green and purple bodice sloped down to a full skirt that ended just below my knees with little strings hanging from the hem that obnoxiously tickled my legs.

And clearly Aunt Humphrey hadn’t thought to find shoes to match this fucking hideous dressed, so it looked all the worse from being worn with the black converse shoes I came in with.

Fuck it.

I stomped through to the sitting room, eyes turned up to a spot on the wall over all of their heads. “Go ahead, get it out of your system,” I announced, waiting for the inevitable laughter, but it didn’t come.

Aside from a rough cough from Corvus and a red-face from Grey, neither spoke.

“Oh, it looks darling!” my aunt said. “Wish I’d have thought to get the matching shoes. How marvelous. It’ll be perfect for the surprise.”

I pinched my brow, going to the tray of expensive bourbon to pour myself another glass and sink onto the low tufted sofa between Corvus and Grey, while Rook planted himself next to the alcohol.

“Is dinner ready?” I asked, drinking greedily from my glass. She didn’t know me very well, but she knew I didn’t like surprises.

“Patience.” She tutted, looking into the bottom of her empty glass.

Rook, noticing, quickly snatched up the decanter and crossed the Persian carpet to her side, taking the glass from her fingers. “Allow me,” he said, his voice smooth as silk.

“Oh!”

Rook filled the glass.

“Oh my, stop dear, that’s far too much.”

Rook gave her a devilish grin, and she fucking blushed at him. “Too much?” he shook his head. “You look like a woman who can handle her liquor, am I right?”

Her eyes widened, and Rook clinked the empty decanter against her nearly full glass.

“Garcon!” he called in no direction in particular. “We need a refill.”

“Rook,” Corvus warned, but Rook only flashed a set of straight white teeth at his brother and settled back down onto the sofa with his glass, lifting a leg to rest his ankle on his knee, so at ease I was actually sort of jealous of him.

Jackson entered from the foyer a moment later, hands clasped behind his back.

“Refill,” Rook repeated, looking at the butler like he was daft, stretching out his neck like he could see if the butler was hiding the liquor behind his back.

“Right away, sir,” Jackson replied, turning his attention to my aunt. “She’s here, ma’am. Shall I send her in?”

My aunt got unsteadily to her feet, setting her over-filled bourbon down on the table to straighten her dress. Clearly she did not know how to handle her liquor.

“Yes, yes. I’ll see her through.”

“Who else did you invite?” I asked, something uncomfortable tightening in my belly.

She barely spared me a second glance as she followed Jackson from the room. “You’ll see, Ava Jade. It’s a surprise.”

Heat flooded through my stomach, flashing over my chest until it was damp. Until the heat turned cold.

My stomach turned.

“We shouldn’t have come,” I said, barely recognizing the sound of my own voice because I was hearing her voice down the hall. Muted and distant and barely there, but even after all these years, I would know it anywhere.

“Sparrow?” Corvus asked, sitting up now. “What is it?”

My mouth went dry.

Aunt Humphrey came back through the entry to the sitting room, a wide smile beaming on her ashen face.

My mother followed behind her.