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Tatum looks at me sideways. “She’s new. She’ll figure it out.”

“I’m sorry.” I clear my throat, signaling for Tatum to zip up my back. “Did I get this right? Nate in an octagon, and Bishop races what? Cars?”

Tatum starts applying makeup and acting like she isn’t inhaling all the drama and new information. I know this is news to her too, because her mouth is shut and she has her ears tuned in to our convo.

“The races,” Tillie says ashamedly, almost like she thinks she’s not allowed to put her foot in it. Tatum starts applying makeup to my face and fluffing up my natural waves. “I assumed you knew, because, well….” She gestures around the place. “I only know because my sister occasionally sleeps with Jase, Hunter’s older brother. I heard them talking about it, so I snuck out and followed them one day.”

My breathing slows, the information sinking into me. I whack Tatum’s hands away from my face. What the fuck is with these boys?

“Because otherwise, that’s super confidential information. I don’t even know why Jase would’ve told my stupid sister, and please forget I ever told you.”

Tatum holds up a pair of hoop earrings in front of my face. “Earrings?”

My face falls in a death glare. “Hold them.” I get to my feet and storm out my bedroom door. I don’t care that my makeup is only half done and my hair is in a thick mane of soft waves down my back, or that I have no shoes on. This is my fucking house anyway. I fly down the stairs, the deep, slow, dark bass of “Devil’s Night” by D12 already shaking the chandelier that hangs in the foyer. I round the corner to the living room, so fucking angry I want to hit something, preferably all of them, until they tell me what the fuck is going on.

I halt at the opening. They are all lounging around already, with Ally and Lauren stretched over their laps—or should I say, Ally stretched out over Bishop’s lap. Awesome. I needed to hit Tatum for saying he isn’t a manwhore and that he is fussy. Lies. No fussy man would have that dirty slut stretched out across his lap.

Okay, angry Madi is about to rear her ugly head. Maybe another glass? Or bottle… because you’re classy like that. Nate is stretched out, with a bong in one hand and a cigarette in the other, grinning at me. Looking beside him, Hunter’s chopping up white powder on the coffee table and rolling up a hundred-dollar bill. I shiver, not wanting to touch that subject right now.

Bringing my eyes back to Bishop, I see Ally purr against his chest. “Why’s she coming?”

Bishop’s jaw clenches, his eyes staying on mine as he strokes Ally’s hair. He wraps her long mane around his fist, yanking her head up to face him, all while his eyes remain on mine. Locked, entranced, and fucking hypnotic.

He slowly drawls his tongue out and licks her across her bottom lip. “I don’t know, babe. Maybe you should ask Nate why his annoying little sister is coming tonight with her annoying little friends.” He sucks her bottom lip into his mouth, catching it between his teeth, before pulling back roughly. She moans shamelessly—fuck everyone else in the room.

Heat mixed with anger pulses through me. Calm breathing, Madi. Fuck him.

I look to Ally, a grin slithering onto my mouth. “Oh now, now,” I tsk, my poker face game strong. “Don’t act like his kisses are that good.” I roll my eyes with a smirk, narrowing them onto Bishop and cocking my head. “He tastes like washed up whores strung out on crack.” Then I look to Ally. “But I guess, now that I know who he has been kissing”—my smirk deepens—“it actually makes sense.”

“You bi—”

She goes to launch off the couch when a laugh erupts out of me. Nate snatches her arm, shoving her back onto Bishop’s lap. Bishop, who has hunger and hate mixed in his eyes, watches me carefully. I smirk at him, chuckling devilishly. If he thinks I’ll lay back and let him make a fool out of me with his little toy, he’s mistaken. I’ve spent most of my life being made a fool of, and I’ve come to realize, as of recently, I don’t much like feeling that way. Of course, this is because wine.

“You!” Nate points to me. “Need to change. You cannot dress like that here tonight.”

“He’s right.” Cash nods. Cash never says much of anything, so him even adding his two cents is odd.

“First of all, fuckers, I’m not changing. Do you know how long it took to get into this dress?” I ask sweetly, a smile still on my face. “I mean, one can only hope that, whoever the lucky guy is that I find myself with tonight, he finds it easier to take it off than I did putting it on.”


Tags: Amo Jones The Elite King's Club Dark