Watch Your Back (Devil's Backbone, #2)

by Tate James

“Dad?” I squeaked, frozen in shock. His weathered face lit up in a bright smile. “Hey, baby, merry Christmas.” He opened his arms, and I launched myself at him. His hug closed around me, and I sobbed into his cashmere sweater, which was still lightly dusted in snowflakes. “What are you doing here?” I mumbled into his chest, my face wet with tears all over again. “I thought you couldn’t⁠—” “Mom said you needed a hug,” he told me in a low whisper, “so if my boss asks, I’ve got cold and flu symptoms and put myself into self-isolation. All right?” A slightly hysterical laugh bubbled out of me at the absurdity of him flying from South Sudan just to hug me. Then again, my dad was that kind of guy…for me, anyway.

“Look. I just…don’t think you should be alone.” My eyes narrowed. “Like you fucking care.” His brows lifted. “I do. Don’t ask me why, I find you utterly infuriating and a stone-cold bitch for playing with my friends’ feelings, but for some cursed reason, I actually do care if something happens to you, Ashley.”

The guilt and regret were once more weighing me down and I just…wanted to be alone. That wasn’t true. I didn’t want to be alone—I wanted to be with Heath.

“So…” Nate broke the silence, seemingly totally comfortable despite the rips in his shirt literally exposing his skin to the frigid air. “Do you wanna build a snowman?” My head swiveled as if I were in the fucking Exorcist and I eyed him with bewilderment—and a touch of concern. “Are you on drugs?”

“You’re wrong,” Nate said quietly as I stalked back across the frozen ground toward the house. “Carly isn’t your only friend.” He gave me a long look as I glanced over my shoulder, then shifted his gaze away. “Royce is still your friend… He’s just scared shitless of hurting you.”

“Merry Christmas, Ash.” Those three words, that voice I’d thought I might never hear again—it damn near killed me. A sob ripped from my chest, and I threw myself forward, no longer in control of my own actions. Thankfully, he caught me, his strong arms wrapping around me like he was made to hold me. I sobbed into his chest, now utterly sure I was hallucinating, and he just stroked my hair as he chuckled with a sound so warm, rich, and real. So…Heath.

“If they don’t all get the matching pajamas,” Nate muttered quietly as he appeared beside me with a fresh coffee in hand, “I’ll start a riot.”

“Royce, quit being a dickhead and go get pillows. We’re all sleeping down here tonight.” Speechless. Nate had officially rendered me speechless because it was a solution I’d never have thought of. So I silently got up and went to fetch all the pillows and blankets out of my own room to help set up our sleepover. Everyone pitched in with moving furniture around and dragging mattresses out of guest rooms, and within half an hour, we’d become thoroughly carried away and set up a whole blanket fort to sleep in. It was well past midnight by the time we all settled down—me snuggled into Heath’s arms—with the twinkling lights of the tree acting as a night-light. Somehow, it was the perfect end to what’d turned into a pretty magical Christmas day.

Turning back to the bed to grab the matching shoes, I paused. A tiny little resin duck sat on top of the shoebox and I picked it up between my fingertips to take a closer look. “Where the fuck did you come from?” I murmured, frowning like I expected the little red duck to reply. Then Mom yelled my name again and I jolted back into action. Shoes first, ponder ducks later.

“Carter Bassington Junior…what are you doing here?” But fucking hell, I was happy he was. His dark brows lifted. “You didn’t know I was coming? But you wore my dress…” His gaze dropped lower and one of his hands traced the beaded neckline. “And it looks even better on you than I could have imagined.” My jaw dropped for a moment, then I laughed. “The duck. I should have known.”

Come on, let’s dance again. I like having my hands on you.” Another sexy wink that made my insides go all fluttery. I finished my drink, then groaned as I put weight back on my feet. “Carter…” “Come on, Spark baby, one more song,” he murmured in my ear, that sexy accent rolling over me like a caress, “and then we can dip out and I’ll eat your pussy in the back of my car to start the New Year right.” Well, shit. With an offer like that, how was a girl to refuse?

Carly shrugged. “With Royce, obviously. Or me! I’ve never eaten pussy before but I reckon I’d be excellent at it.” I snort-laughed and threw a pair of rolled-up socks her way. “What tempting options. In case you forgot, friend, you’re straight.” She rolled her eyes. “What’s the saying? So’s spaghetti until it gets wet?”

“If Carter is so worried, he’s welcome to shadow me himself.” “Is he?” Carly asked, giving me a curious look. I groaned, scrubbing my hands over my face. “No. Yes. I don’t know. He’s a dick, you know that?” She grinned. “I’m well aware. And he’s legitimately scary with his anger-management crap. But you don’t ever seem intimidated, and by the sound of things, you’re quite fond of his dick.”

So…I figured I’d take the mature, adult approach to the whole thing.” She snorted a laugh. “Avoid it until it becomes a thing?” “Yup.” I nodded. “Exactly.”

“Spark…please let me kiss you.” Oh my god, Carter begging? Dirty tricks. I shook my head again with monumental effort. “You keep doing this, sucking me in with this thing between us.” I gestured to the air between us as he stared straight through to my soul through my eyes. I could hardly breathe. “This electric attraction between us…it makes it impossible to think, and all my better judgment flies out the window. We are not in a good place, Carter, and every time I let you get close, it feels like I lose a piece of myself to you.” Sadness tainted his expression and he wet his lips. “Is that such a bad thing, Spark? I’d keep those pieces safe.” “I know,” I whispered, my eyes burning with the sudden urge to cry, “but I’ll never get them back. So where does that leave me when you eventually marry some European heiress that your mother approves of?”

“This conversation isn’t over, Spark. I’m not letting go of you that easy, but you’ve raised good points. I need to think.”

Nate’s hard gaze cut from me to Heath, then over to Royce and Carter before he released my wrist with an abrupt motion. “I see we’re all straight back to simpering over my stepsister again. Silly me for thinking you had more self-respect, Ashley.” My jaw dropped. “Excuse you? Self-respect? You blocked them in my phone!” Nate shrugged, apparently totally unapologetic. “Okay…and so you thought the first opportunity you got, you’d go begging for attention and asking why no one had contacted you? Kinda pathetic, don’t you think?”

Fuck me, now all four of them were staring at me and I wanted to be literally anywhere but here. Except at the same time, I really wanted to be alone with Heath, so I could make him repeat that. Just for me. Preferably while balls deep inside me.

Well. Apparently my plan to force some distance between Ashley and my friends backfired. Now not only is she probably plotting my agonizing death by a thousand paper cuts, but the guys are all defending her. As if she needs it. Little spitfire can fight her own battles.

“Ashes, is this what you meant when you asked if I wanted to study? Because I could study you all damn day and not get tired of it…” He trailed kisses down my throat, then shifted his position to help me strip out of my sweater.

Who knew Heath was a closet bad boy under that cinnamon-roll exterior?

When we were thirteen, we went to Keystone for a ski trip with Max as our chaperone. He was basically the only parent who would ever take us to do fun shit, instead of leaving us in boarding school year round. Day two of the vacation, Max broke his wrist trying to beat Royce in a snowboard freestyle competition and had to visit the medical center in Silverthorne for X-rays. While he was there, a blizzard hit and cut off the road. We were stuck in the Essexes’ mountain chalet for four whole days with no parents to tell us no. I used to think that was the best week of my whole life. It’s not anymore. This one is. This week, with Ashley in my bed, underneath me, moaning and writhing in my sheets? This one, hands down, is the best week of my whole freaking life. The only shitty part is how guilty I feel when I see the look on my best friend’s face… H. Briggs, January 9

“Blue is your duck color?” I asked Heath, noting the info in my head. Red was Carter’s duck that we’d used at that first society event I’d been invited to, but their colors must apply to more than just that one night. Carter was red, Heath was blue…

“He’s right,” Carter said softly. “I don’t want to hurt you, Ashley…not again.” I clenched my teeth so hard, it hurt my jaw, and I released my human-shield hug to give us both a bit of breathing room. “Carter Bassington Junior, if you call me Ashley one more time instead of Spark, I will use Royce’s little knife to cut the name into your arm so you never forget it. Am I clear?” He blinked at me, stunned. Then he nodded slightly. “Yes, ma’am,” he murmured. I narrowed my eyes in a warning glare, and he amended his response. “Yes, Spark. Understood.”

“Is that what you wanted?” he asked in a dark whisper, his lips still against mine as he slowly withdrew just the slightest distance before thrusting back in. A whimper escaped my throat as I nodded. “Yes,” I hissed, then bit his lower lip. “Fuck me until you remember who the fuck I am.”

My everything ached, but I still wanted him to fuck me again. He chuckled, one huge hand cupping my breast and his fingers tweaking my nipple as I gasped and rubbed against him like a bitch in heat. “Again?” he teased, already dipping a hand between my legs. “Four times last night wasn’t enough? Spark, you’re insatiable.”

“This is where I feel most at home, balls deep in your sweet cunt.”

“Carter!” I exclaimed, my jaw damn near hitting the floor when I inspected his wound. Or wounds, as it were. “What the fuck did you do?” His eyes locked on mine, full of intensity. “Exactly what I needed to do, Spark,” he replied in a dark voice. “Exactly what I deserved.” Speechless, I stared back at him a moment, then flicked my gaze back down to his bloody, sliced-up forearm. Spark. He’d cut my nickname into his arm

“You’re insane,” I whispered, bringing my gaze back to his. He shook his head slightly, his lips curling at the corners. “I’m in love.” My brows shot up so hard, I worried I’d lost them. “Excuse me?” “You heard me, Spark,” he murmured, totally ignoring his own injuries as he cupped my face in his hand. “I’m yours now. It’s permanent.”

For some reason, I glanced around the kitchen until I spotted what must have been the murder weapon. A granite duck figurine. A startled laugh escaped me, and I clapped a hand over my mouth to hold it in. “Sorry,” I muttered. “It’s not funny. Sorry. I just… You used a duck? What is with you guys and waterfowl?”

“Wow,” I muttered aloud, pausing when Heath in the video reached for the duck again. I didn’t need to watch the rest; the outcome was painted all over the kitchen right now. “That’s it?” Nate asked, frowning at me with an intensity that made me uneasy. “Wow? That’s your whole reaction to this?” He waved a hand at the dead body—rapidly cooling, I’d bet—and shook his head with disbelief. “Just…wow?” I handed his phone back and shrugged. “What do you want from me? Hysterics? I don’t know if my acting skills are totally up to the task, but I can give it a go once we get this sorted out, if you’d like?” He stared back, incredulous, before muttering something under his breath about psychotic women and something about how he should have known I was unhinged.

“They’ll be lucky to find any evidence at all now,” Carter murmured as we drove back to their apartment. “It only takes five minutes for a house to become fully engulfed. At this stage, I’ll be shocked if they even find Dr. Fox’s skeleton.” “Mmm, I wouldn’t be so sure,” I replied, googling how hot a fire needed to be to turn bones to ash. “The fire would need to be burning at 1400 to 1800 degrees Fahrenheit for three hours to fully cremate him, and house fires on average sit at 1100 degrees but can in some situations reach 2000 degrees. I’m not saying it’s not possible. I guess it depends how long they take to put it out?” Carter glanced over at me quickly before returning his eyes to the road, saying nothing. Heath started laughing in the back seat, though. “Here I was thinking you’d be the useful one in covering up crimes, Bass,” he chuckled, “but it seems you’ve met your match.”

“I don’t know why I keep letting you guys drive me places,” I admitted out loud as we got into his enormous truck. “I have my own car, and it works just fine.” Nate just shot me a sidelong glance, then focused on reversing his huge vehicle out of the parking space. “Some might say,” he murmured thoughtfully as he kept his focus on driving, “that you’ve been relying on yourself for so long that maybe you subconsciously enjoy the feeling of being taken care of in little ways.” I scowled. “I’m not an invalid, nor am I some kind of weak woman desperately seeking a man to lighten her mental load.” He rolled his eyes. “Is that what I said? Fuck, woman, stop trying to put insults in my mouth. It’s not a fucking bad thing; it’s just psychology.

“Fucking hell, Layne,” he muttered, shaking his head. “You’re proving my point here. No one is forcing you to accept rides to and from work or campus; you’re simply accepting because subconsciously you need a break from being so damn independent all the time.”

“Hello, darling,” I whispered to the car as I stroked the leather steering wheel. “Stop dirty-talking my car, Squirrel,” Royce complained as he strapped himself in and blasted the heat. “It’s making me jealous.”

Before Heath could insist he was fine back there—he absolutely was not with legs that long—I clambered in and got comfy. “I suppose you do fit a little easier,” Heath admitted, pushing the passenger seat back into position and sliding in. “I forget how little you are sometimes.” “He means because you’ve got big-dog energy,” Royce informed me with a smirk in the rearview mirror. “You act like you’re six foot sometimes. Not a little yappy dog, like Jade.”

As if the universe was laughing at us, the walk took the better part of two hours, and we still had zero bars when we arrived on the outskirts of the little town. It was weird, and I’d spent far too much of those last two hours detailing all the different ways we could be picked up by a serial killer and brutally murdered. “You’re a bit sick, you know that?” Royce asked as we approached the run-down motel with a flashing neon Vacancy sign. “Don’t get me wrong. It’s hot. But also now I see why you were so clear-headed last week with the, um, situation.”

He shrugged, seeming a little nervous, which didn’t add up. Royce didn’t do nervous. “I don’t like the friend zone, Squirrel. I kept thinking maybe if I flirted with you enough…but I’m starting to think I really need to take a hint and move on.” My mouth flapped open and shut a couple of times, and I blinked like a fucking owl. “Excuse me?” He sighed heavily, then got to his feet. I watched, confused, as he grabbed the notepad and pen off the little writing desk and scribbled on it. Then he returned to where I sat in a puzzled, frozen state and handed me the paper. “Here, I’ll put it in writing so there’s no miscommunication.” Squinting, I looked down at the note. I like you. I think about you naked all the time. I wanna be more than friends. I might already love you.

“What if I told you I was the one destroying the pillow wall every night?” He dipped his head but glanced at me through his long lashes. “Because every time I did, you would snuggle into me almost immediately, and I liked to pretend for a couple of hours that you were mine.”

“I’m scared,” he confessed in a whisper, “that I won’t be able to go back to being friends after I kiss you.” “Good,” I replied, bringing my hands up to cup his face. “I don’t wanna be your friend anymore, either.” Then I closed the gap between us, our lips brushing in the softest caress imaginable.

selfishly, I don’t want him stealing her for a whole day when I have a crapload of ass-kissing to do. She’s big mad at me right now, but I know I can talk her down—the makeup sex will be so worth it. Maybe I can finally fuck that sweet ass of hers… C. Bassington, January 21

One thing I very quickly learned about Royce was that he had endurance and patience. He was more than happy—downright gleeful at some stages—to hold back his own release for the opportunity to see me fall to pieces over and over again until I genuinely suspected I wouldn’t be able to walk ever again.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he ordered in a gruff voice, still a goddamn gentleman even with his dick in my asshole.

“I’m fine,” I snapped, forcing myself to sit back in my seat as normally as I possibly could while attempting to ignore my aching bits. Avoiding eye contact, I buckled my seat belt and folded my legs. Totally normal. Nothing to see here. From the back seat, Carter groaned. “God damn it,” he cursed, punching Heath in the shoulder. “We had an agreement.” “Ow, dickhead,” Heath protested, punching him back. “Don’t get mad at me!” Carter gasped, and I glanced over my shoulder to see him staring at Royce in shock. “No! You?” Royce just grinned like a fucking Cheshire cat, not even the slightest bit guilty. “Me, motherfucker. You snooze, you lose.”

“What the hell is going on?” Nate asked in bewilderment as he started up the truck and headed out of the little town. “What are you all talking about?” “Absolutely fucking nothing,” I snapped before anyone could go explaining in great detail about how Carter had just put two and two together and not only realized Royce and I were fucking but also that Royce had fucked my ass so hard, I was walking funny. Great. So great.

sat on the edge of the bed to read it. Spark, you needed the rest, so Royce is getting notes from your class for you. I’m sorry for being a pushy fuck, but I hope you like your new room. Text us if you need anything. —Eternally yours, C.B.

“Uh-huh…and didn’t you also say that you’ve rigged it to place us on the same team because you’re so completely obsessed with me that you can’t bear to be apart for even a minute?” I grinned up at him as we walked across the gravel driveway. He glanced down with a cocked brow. “Is that what I said?” “It’s what you meant,” I replied with a laugh. Carter leaned down and dropped a quick kiss on my mouth. “I’m sure I meant to say, I rigged us to be on the same team because I’m completely in love with you.”

“I missed you today, Squirrel.” I laughed softly. “You say that every time you haven’t seen me in a few hours. It can’t possibly be true every time.” His teasing expression sobered as he studied my gaze. “Can’t it? You’re my obsession, Ashley. Every minute you’re not touching me, my heart aches. I love you so much, it literally hurts sometimes. Does that scare you?”

I’m best positioned to keep Ashley safe. All three of them are so focused on her magical vagina, they wouldn’t see a threat coming even if it slapped them in the face with a wet fish. It kind of makes me mad when I think about it. Do they even like her as much as they’re pretending? Or is it just all about the sex for them? It fucking sucks that I’m questioning my friends’ motives like this. They’re literally the best people I know. But still…they’re also guys. And Ashley is hot as hell. N. Essex, February 16

Our finest moment was when Carter tried to lure me into a quickie in the bushes, and I swiped both his flag and egg, then left him with blue balls. Sucker. Nate had laughed so hard at that one, I’d done a full double take. I couldn’t remember ever hearing him laugh genuinely.