Carter had one foot outside and the other in the bedroom, halfway to freedom. He lifted the gun in his hand and aimed it at me. Brock’s kryptonite—that was what Carter had called me. I was the Elite’s weak spot. “Don’t fucking move or I blow her head off,” Carter threatened.
Brock’s gaze sharpened as his eyes darted to the gun before shifting so he put himself between the weapon and me. “Put the gun down, Carter. You don’t want to do this.”
What was he thinking, putting himself in the line of fire? Fear like I never felt crashed into me. It was one thing for Carter to aim that thing at me, another thing entirely to point it at someone I loved.
“You have no idea what I want to do,” Carter fumed.
“I know that you don’t want to go to jail or you wouldn’t be here,” Brock chided.
“It doesn’t matter now. I have no use for her. You can fucking have her.” Then Carter twisted, bolting down the stairs, taking the gun, the danger, and the flash drive with him.
I expected Brock to rush to out after him and gave chase, but he turned, facing me. In my next breath, he was in front of me, worry shining in his aqua eyes. “Firefly, are you—?”
“Brock, he has the USB,” I cut in, unconcerned about myself. A small cut was nothing compared to the kind of damage the information on that external drive could do.
“Good,” he replied. With gentle fingers that shook just slightly, he brushed at my hair near my temple, surveying the cut. “I can’t believe that fucker hit you again. I’m seriously going to kill him.”
Okay, not the reaction I’d expected. I blinked, confusion clouding my mind. “What the fuck do you mean, good? You aren’t going to go after him? He did something to your computer. Put some kind of virus on it or something. I don’t know.” His lack of response got me worked up and the words rushed out in one long ramble.
Brock shrugged, a hand moving to my hip. “He took what we wanted him to find. And as for my computer, I’ll have someone uncover whatever the bastard did.”
“You knew,” I whispered, my gaze searching his face as clarity began to break through. “You knew he would try to break into your house?” I didn’t want it to be true. None of it. But sometimes you don’t get what you want.
He tugged me closer, and for some reason I let him. Maybe because I wanted him to comfort me and tell me I was wrong. “I knew he would try something,” he affirmed, my body flush against his. “What Carter stole only has information we gave him. It’s not the real USB. We wouldn’t keep something like that in here,” Brock explained.
“You did good, James.” Fynn stood in the doorway with Grayson and Micah. I hadn’t heard them approach.
My eyes volleyed between the three of them and Brock beside me. What did he mean I did good? It didn’t take me long to draw a conclusion. “Was this some kind of twisted test?” When no one denied it, I shook my head and shoved out of Brock’s arms. “Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. And fuck you,” I said to each of them, unable to believe they would pull a stunt like this. Just when I thought I knew them, understood them, the Elite went and proved that I knew nothing. “I could have been seriously hurt. He could have shot me. What the actual hell?”
“We didn’t know the fool would bring a gun,” Grayson defended.
“We swear, Josie Jo,” Micah reaffirmed, like that made it better.
This couldn’t be happening. I felt betrayed by them, used. I get that I wasn’t supposed to walk in on their plan and find Carter sneaking around, but it happened. And there was no undoing the events of tonight. A myriad of conflicting emotions washed within me as I let the words fly, “I don’t need this shit. I don’t need the Elite.”
“Too bad, Firefly,” Brock bluntly said. “Membership can’t be revoked. Once you’re in, you’re in for life. Remember?”
What was this, the fucking mafia? Unbelievable.
I huffed out a breath, attempting to find a thread of Zen, for I would need it dealing with the four of them. “Then next time, you better fill me in on the plan first. You either trust me or you don’t.”
“Promise,” Fynn agreed, speaking for the group, but it wasn’t enough for me.
I eyeballed each of them, my back straightening. “I need all four of you to say it.”
Micah’s lips twitched, but I got what I wanted. Four deep, male promises.
Taking a step back, I leaned against Brock, the adrenaline quickly leaving my body. “Someone get me a damn drink.”
He put a firm arm around me, and only then did I notice that my body was shaking. “Grayson, take her home,” he advised gruffly as he kept his gaze trained on me.
“I don’t need to handled,” I proclaimed, though the statement came out a bit chattering and not super effective.
Brock smirked down at me, pressing a kiss to the tip of my nose. “I wouldn’t dream of handling you, Firefly, except for in the bedroom.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Really? You thought right now would be an appropriate time to make a sexual innuendo?”
“Micah does it all the time,” he replied.