Page 37 of Midnight Curfew

Will we be arrested?

I mean, I like to fuck at night, too, and sometimes I like to do it in St. Carmen.

But I exhale, finally realizing.

We move the liquor at night…

Motherfucker. That’s what he meant. His party would be in St. Carmen tonight. If he knew we were coming through with trucks, he would’ve had us stopped, but he’s definitely on to us and knew tonight was the start of kicking us back to our side of the tracks.

“Shit!” Army whispers. “Shut off your screens! Get down!”

Unclicking my seat belt, I crash down onto the bench seat, holding my cell to my chest to shield the light.

My pulse races, blood heating my entire body while my stomach feels like it’s in free fall.

And there’s something about it that feels good.

I breathe hard, the fire slowly coating everything under my skin descending into my jeans, and I blink. Reaching down, I adjust my cock, gripping the hardening shaft as a smile starts to pull at the corners of my mouth.

I thought he would hassle me when he finally returned. It was always about me, but no.

He’s coming for everyone.

This might actually be fun. His imagination is still impressive.

“What happens now?” Trace gasps as if the cops driving by outside can hear us. “We move the trucks at night. What the hell do we do now?”

All I know is that the stories we tell in our family are always amusing, but only because we made it out alive. If we hadn’t, we wouldn’t tell the stories.

Someday, I’m going to tell this one.

7

Callum

Five Years Ago

“So, are you into Clay or what?” Milo asks.

I cruise past the houseboat tilted on a grassy knoll in the center of town, a little display surrounded by park benches and gas lamps. My friend caps his flask next to me, while Vincent Law and Cameron Sable zone out in the back seat.

“I can be into her enough,” I reply.

My eyes aren’t drawn to her—or any other woman—like they are when I see Dallas Jaeger, though. I’ve noticed him and have found myself unable to be anywhere else other than home when I know he’s coming to tend the pool and lawn. Today was the first time I’d spoken to him.

His green eyes, piercing with the contrast of his black T-shirt, look best when they’re looking at me. God, he needed a shower. I wish we’d been alone.

“I don’t think you can get her.” Milo fixes his dark hair in his mirror. “She doesn’t seem to give a shit about you.”

“Is that a challenge?”

I see him smile over at me out of the corner of my eye. “Not really,” he says. “She’ll fold like all of them do. They’ll go to college and come home wanting what they know is right.”

A powerful man. A home. The life.

And we’ll come home from college, full from four years of pussy, and ready to put a ring on someone suitable, which will keep her faithful for a long engagement before we head off to grad school for more fun.

We cross the tracks, wind blowing through the open windows of my M3, a summer storm brewing overhead. My stomach somersaults the closer I get to him.