“Good.” I drag the tip of my tongue over my front teeth. “I prefer them that way.”
“Fuck You” by Silent Child starts playing just as the girl who is sitting with her back turned to me laughs, her head tilting back. Her hair is a weird shade of silver, or even gray, and when she angles back, it almost touches the blades of grass. It’s that fucking long.
“Who. The fuck. Is that?” I ask, unknowingly taking a step toward her. I don’t know what she looks like, but I need to fuck her. Immediately. She’s sending out energy that I need to fucking inhale, preferably while I’m between her thighs.
“Tsk, tsk.” Keaton shakes his index finger at me. “Now, you know when I said that they’re all fucked up one way or another?”
I nod, unable to form words. Goddamn.
“Well, that girl is all the way fucked up. You don’t want to be jumping on that. Trust me.”
“Wasn’t what I asked, Darkling. What’s her name?”
Keaton’s eyes turn to slits, but he still has a smug smile on his face. “First of all, fuck you. Don’t call me Darkling. Second of all, that’s Lilith. Trust me, bro, rein it in, because you won’t want that bouncing on your dick.”
She turns to look over her shoulder slightly and I catch the first glimpse of her side profile.
Oh, fuck no. I’m definitely fucking that. I will die if I don’t. The perfect upturned nose, and a jaw casting a shadow as dark as Maleficent.
“Come on, player. I’ll show you your room.” I finally follow him up the few steps and into the main living room of the matte black RV. “You going to be driving your Porsche or you keeping it here?”
I shake my head. “I’ll be driving it.”
Keaton directs me around the RV, showing me where everything is. The downstairs is filled with the main living area, the kitchen, bathroom, and a dining room. Everything is elaborate and modern—clean.
“It’s bigger than what it looks like…”
My eyes snap to His. “That’s the third time you’ve mentioned my dick, Darkling. If you wanna suck on it, all you have to do is ask.” I can’t help the chuckle that escapes me as he shoves me in the chest.
“You’re a fucking piece of work, Rebellis…”
“Have you told Lilith that she’s staying with us?” a voice says from behind and we both turn to see Kyrin. Kyrin is a nightmare concealed with a face way too fucking pretty to be that moody. Shame really. He would’ve been a good lay.
“Nope. I’m leaving that to you, since you both hate each other already,” Keaton murmurs, pulling a rolled joint out from behind his ear. He points upstairs. “Third door to your left is yours. The one beside yours is Lilith’s, and the one opposite is mine. This fucker here” —he gestures to Kyrin with the joint—“is beside me. Go drop your shit in there and come back down to help me smoke this.”
I make my way up to the room, tossing my duffel bag in the corner and closing the door softly. There’s a large king-size bed, a set of drawers, and a TV. The fuck. I never thought about how much money The Brothers of Kiznitch roll in. I assumed it was a lot, since they charge so fucking much for their shows, and they’re one of the most powerful families in America, but this has gotta be some hard kak. I pull my phone out of my pocket while making my way back downstairs, falling onto the sofa beside Keaton and taking the J off him. Kyrin is opposite us on the La-Z-Boy, his leg kicked out but his eyes on me. Jesus Christ, but he makes me fucking nervous. That never happens with me. Fucking ever. I suck down the smoke, refusing to shed even a hint of how intimidating he is, and I’ve been around some big fuckers. All of them I call my best friends. I was raised in an environment that wasn’t for the weak, yet here I am, fucking shriveling in the spot from some intense asshole who clearly has power issues.
“Where to after here?” I ask the question that I honestly don’t give a fuck about, just to distract myself from Kyrin.
“Heading down to Pennsylvania. Going from there. You sure you want to bring that ride?” Keaton says, toking on the joint and holding the inhale. “Gonna rack up some serious miles, which is why we leave all our rides here. Behind us is The Village. Plenty of space for yours.”
I run my hand over my cheek, clearing my throat. I can feel the effects of the THC bleeding into my muscles.
“Yeah, I might get one of my brothers to pick it up.”
Kyrin shifts forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He tilts his head, his eyes hooded. “I’m going to bed. Gonna go out riding tomorrow to clear my head.” He finally drags his eyes away from me and to Keaton. “You good here?”