“You little shit.” She goes to run at me, and Dax grabs her, yanking her back by her hair.
He holds her head back, forcing her to look up at the ceiling. “So are you going to leave her alone or not?” he demands.
“Yes.” She sniffs, and he shoves her to her knees on the mattress.
“It was fun as always, Mrs. Shephard,” he tells her.
I get up from the chair and toss her cell beside her. “Thanks for the show.”
We make our way out to my car, and I get into the driver’s seat and pull my cell out, sending a text to the group chat.
Me: Little doll. Be in my room when I get home.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
RYAN SCOUT
I RING THE doorbell and rock back on my heels with my arms crossed over my chest.
The door opens. “Ryan?” Mrs. Miller says with surprise written all over her Botoxed face.
“Mrs. Miller.” I nod my head at her.
“Come in. Come in, please.” She steps to the side to allow me to enter and smiles. “What can we do for you?”
Mrs. Miller is pretty in that I-spent-a-small-fortune-to-look-ten-years-younger way. I’m not sure how much of her is original anymore. “I’m here to see Lacey,” I inform her.
Her hazel eyes go wide, thinking we’re dating, hooking up, fucking. Whatever old people think we do these days. “Oh, she’s upstairs in her room.”
I just stand here staring at her. What she just said to me didn’t give me anything I could actually use. This house has twelve bedrooms, and although I’ve been here a lot, I’ve never come to see Lacey before.
“Up the stairs and second door on the left.”
“Thanks.” I uncross my arms and start climbing the stairs. I make it to her door and am about to just walk in but decide to knock. She doesn’t answer.
I turn the knob and push it open. Sitting on her bed cross-legged, she props her left elbow on her left knee and has her chin in her hand. Her right hand taps a pencil eraser on her notebook while her eyes run across the page of her English book lying open in front of her.
She’s got earbuds in her ears that are connected to her phone beside her.
I enter her room and just watch her. Her blond hair is up in a messy bun. Pieces of it fall down her back and the sides of her face. She’s not wearing any makeup. The strap of her tank top is falling off one shoulder, letting me know she’s not wearing a bra. And her matching white cotton shorts show off her toned legs.
I’ve never looked at Lacey before. Like really looked at her. She’s pretty in an innocent way. She’d be even prettier on her knees with cum smeared all over her naked chest.
She shifts, and her glasses start to slide down her nose. She looks up to adjust them and sees me.
She gasps, jumping off her bed and yanking the earbuds out of her ears. “Scout?” She breathes my name and swallows nervously. “What … what are you doing here?” Her eyes dart around her room in a panic. As if it’s a sin for me to be in here. That God may punish her for allowing the devil in.
“Mrs. Miller told me you were in here.”
“Oh.” She grabs an oversized Westbrook hoodie off her dresser and slides it on her body, knocking her glasses off her face in the process. She quickly bends down and picks them up, putting them back in place. I smirk, and she averts her eyes. “What do you want?”
I grab the door and close it, giving us more privacy.
Her eyes widen a fraction more, and I hear her breathing pick up.
“Relax, Lace. As much as I like fucking with people, I’m not here to fuck with you,” I say truthfully. There’s no reason to scare her more than I have to.
“Okay,” she says slowly, clearly not trusting a word I just said.
“What did Nicholas and his friends say to you?”
“It was nothing,” she lies.
I begin to slowly walk over to her, and she looks around for any type of weapon to fend me off with. “Scout …”
“What did they say, Lace? I won’t ask again,” I tell her sternly.
“They said … they asked if I was a slut too,” she whispers the word, “like my whore friend.”
I snort. “Everyone knows you’re a virgin.”
She drops her eyes to her feet. “You make it sound like a bad thing.”
I come to stand in front of her. Reaching out, I cup her face, forcing her to look up at me. She inhales, holding her breath. Such an innocent thing to do. I can feel her body trembling in my hand. “If you were to let a man touch you, Lace, then you would understand just how boring innocent is.”