Page 4 of Fu*kboys in Flannel
“He mouthed off about my mom. So I clocked his ass. You know Mase, that green lit him, so we just had a friendly little scuffle between siblings. You know how that goes.” I don’t know why I’m trying to fuck around with him. I’m not afraid to tell him, but I feel my lack of control and I’m trying to manipulate the situation to my needs.
“I’m sure he did talk about your whore ass mama. Now tell me what really caused it. And don’t fucking lie to me again, Bennett. I’ll sew your mouth shut and have Tessa feed you through a tube until you get some fucking act-right in your system.” My anger spikes again but I force myself to rein it in before I jump at him. I’d rather take on four Mason’s than Grey. I value my life just a little too much.
But it wouldn’t be me if I didn’t smart off just a bit, “It’s Tessa.”
“Excuse you? I must have misheard you because it sounded like you said my little cousin is the cause for this little dick measuring contest. I know neither of you are fucking my cousin. I will castrate you both.” His voice is quiet and there’s no inflection in it.
“I didn’t stutter. We’ve been at it since last weekend. I know you know we’ve both had our eyes on her for years. Well last weekend she made her move… on both of us. But now she’s gotta fucking choose. I was simply helping Mase see rea-” I stop short when Mason’s fist lands in my gut, knocking the wind out of me.
“Dick.”
“So let me get this fucking straight. I explicitly forbade her from any fucking Raven, especially you two. I saw how she looked at you and I don’t fucking need her fucking with the vibe. And just look… I was fucking right. She’s already poisoning you. You two are going to fuck up and then I’ll have to kill you. I can’t be down a Slade, let alone two. So you two need to go fuck her outta your heads with one of the bitches in the house and be done. I fucking mean it.” Grey finally ends his fucking speech and I roll my eyes.
“Oh ye of little faith.”
“Don’t get fucking cute, you dingleberry. Your daddy should have drowned you both and saved me from the misery of having to deal with you.” Grey snarks at me and I can’t help but grin.
I glance over to my brother, waiting to see if he’s gonna open his mouth up and give it back to him, but he just glares at me. Oh okay, it’s just fuck me then. Leave me to deal with the cranky ass man.
“Let’s not open our mouth anymore. I see your brother gets a fucking clue. Shut the fuck up. Leave my cousin alone and don’t make me leave a warm pussy again because I need to break up your bullshit. Clean this fucking mess up or have someone clean it up. I don’t give a fuck, just get it done.” He turns around and walks back out of the kitchen. He’s fidgeting with his hat, and I watch him cut his eyes to Emerson before he moves completely through the room and disappears in the crowd.
“You plan on listening to him?” my brother finally opens his mouth to speak. What a miracle.
“Of fucking course not. It’s my life’s mission to make him sport a full head of gray hair by the time he hits thirty. Hear me out… I’ve got an idea.” I throw my arm around Mase and turn us back to the counter to make another drink.
Either my plan works how I want it to.
Or Grey really will fucking kill me.
Guess we’ll just have to fuck around and find out.
Chapter 3
Tessa
Bennett isn’t the first person I see when I enter the Slade's luxurious cabin, but he’s sure the first one I notice. He’s in the basement, which runs the expanse of the entire house. He’s sitting on the bar, a beer in one hand, and he’s watching everyone dance, drink, and mingle like he’s their puppet master. His messy black hair is in his eyes, and he looks bored out of his mind. I watch him check his phone before he looks up and his eyes settle on me and my tight green silk dress. He doesn’t look like a billionaire, clad in dark jeans and a blue and green tartan flannel that he’s left unbuttoned solely to showcase his toned abs and chest. He has one tattoo, the same flying raven that all the Ravens have on their sternum. I suspect it won’t be long until he’s covered in tattoos like some of the older Ravens are.
He instantly stiffens, straightening his posture and he’s looking at me like he’s never laid eyes on me before. More specifically, he’s looking at me like he’d like to lay a whole lot more on me than just his eyes. I’m just not sure if he wants his mouth on my skin or his hands around my neck. The party is nothing but background noise buzzing around me, and I decide right then to make this as difficult on him as I can. Things will change tonight between all three of us and the angry butterflies trying to murder me from the inside out, tell me that it won’t be for the better. I’ll lose both of them, because I know in my heart, I could never choose between them and they’re way too competitive to bow out. Even if one of them didn’t want me, I’d still want both of them the same. It wouldn’t be fair to whichever one I chose, because he'd never have every piece of me.
I glance around, making sure to avoid looking at Bennett. I recognize a lot of the people here tonight, but I’m not friends with most of them. When you’re wrapped up with The Ravens of Hollow Hill, it doesn’t leave much room for making friends outside their circle. It’s just me and four other girls. We’re the ones who are tightly kept within the circle, whether we want to be or not. It’s not something that’s been explicitly talked about, but when you’re related to one of the Ravens in any way they deem important, it doesn’t take long to feel somewhere between royalty and an outcast. Everyone wants to speculate and talk about us, but not many are brave enough to approach us. The Ravens like to fight, and they’re as brutal as the mountain that raised them. There are no consequences in Hollow Hill.
“Did you dress like a whore on my account? Or is this for Mason?” Bennett sneers directly into my ear when he finally makes it over to me. He’s jealous of the other guys looking at the way the fabric clings to my body, and that’s hilarious to me. No one in this house would be dumb enough to approach me for anything without The Ravens’ permission. They would have no compunction about taking someone out into the woods and slitting their throat. They've already proved that, and the memory makes me shiver. The terrain of Hollow Hill is brutal and unforgiving, but it's nothing compared to the wrath of a Raven.
The cold beer bottle in Bennet's hand brushes my bare arm when he lifts it to take a swig before lowering it to press to my lips. I look up at him under thick, mascara-coated lashes and take the bottle from his hands before I down the rest of it.
“Well, it is a Ravens’ party. I figured I should try to fit in.” I finally answer him, raising my voice to an annoying octave to imitate the girls at my school who worship them. “Gods among peasants, isn’t that what they call you?”
His lips press into a hard line, and he studies my face coolly like he knows something I don’t, lifting his thumb to wipe the excess liquid from my bottom lip. I flick my tongue out to lap against his skin and I’ve never seen Bennett’s eyes darken to this degree. Instantly, his other hand moves up to my long red hair as his thumb parts my lips. His eyes don’t waver from my mouth as I suck hard, teasing him, playing the game he and Mason started better than either of them could ever imagine.
I see the moment that Bennett remembers that we’re in the middle of the biggest party Hollow Hill has probably ever seen. He pulls his thumb from my mouth, but his fingers seem to tighten in my hair. He studies my face, and it’s the first time I’ve ever seen one of the Slade brothers look unsure.
Good. Now you know how us mortals feel.
I strike the first match of the evening when I pull his hand from my hair and link my fingers with his much larger ones. I pull him over to the expansive bar like he’s a six-foot-four rag doll. When we reach the granite countertop stocked with a variety of expensive liquors, I notice my cousin Grey brooding as he fills a couple shot glasses for some girls that I’ll never know beyond a surface level. I guess he's decided that it’s his job to make all the drinks tonight. I roll my eyes because that's so Grey. He doesn’t know how to have fun or relax. He’s either working or bitching, and when he looks at me, I realize tonight he's going to be doing both.
“Put some clothes on,” he snaps, taking his backward hat off and then replacing it over his chestnut waves. That’s his tic. All of the Ravens have one that seems to come out just before they’re ready to snap. When Grey is agitated, that hat must leave his head a dozen times.
I smirk, dipping my eyes to his naked torso before looking him dead in the eyes. His chest and arms are spattered with tattoos. “Put a shirt on, sweetheart,” I tell him, taking the Shirley Temple from his hand that I’m certain he made for me just to be shitty. I take a long purposeful swig of the sweet carbonated, definitely non-alcoholic, liquid before flipping him off.