Wicked Secrets #2 | Set In Steele

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VIII : War plans

Reign

I have to say, my spy skills are something that everyone should applaud. It’s been one day and I, Reign Moonbreker have successfully avoided the incomparable Steele Winters.

I deserve a gold star for my petty achievement.

I understand what I did was stupid in every way but its not my fault my plan went bottoms up. Literally. But it doesn’t justify him screaming at me, as if he knows me.

As if he truly cares.

Vienna let me call my aunt from her phone, she told me it would be better if we stayed with her until I got back up on my feet. But of course that idea was rejected by the brooding dumbass.

“You’re staying here,” Dicarius had the audacity to order me, I scoff and tilt my chin upwards.

“No.” I huff and turn to Vienna, she shakes her head laughing. Then points her finger at me, charging my immobile state with a glare.

“Listen you little shit,” Oh gods, “You will be staying here, if your so hellbent on being independent you can get a job at the club. You will go to university with me or I swear to god I will drag you by the hair!” Vienna finishes her rant as my jaw drops.

“A lot of pint sized anger in there,” I say, Dicarius coughs up his drink. “Fine, but one condition.” I raise my finger, “I move out when I have enough money to support myself.”

“Deal.” Dicarius and Vienna both say and I frown.

Maybe escaping Steele will be harder than I thought?
___

I spent the rest of the day reading at the park. After Vienna’s angry rant she drove me to the park so I could clear my head. I almost forgot to finish my novel after all the drama. I guess it’s funny that way, books have been a stable thing in my life. But lately these pages aren’t getting my mind off of a certain icy eyed asshole.

I mean sure, they’re heart crushing plot twists and ships that never sail. The annoying nagging in your brain when you realize the world you live in is crap compared to the setting of the book, and of course...the very hot male extras. But hey? At least I have the satisfaction of slapping the book shut when I finish.

My butt is numb from the park bench and my fingers ache from flipping all of the pages. Cramps intensified when I shifted my position, reminding me of my cracked rib and harshly bruised back. I know how to deal with pain, not the physical—no, emotional.

I’m about to finish the end of the mystery novel until a shadow casts over the pages, “It’s the gardener, he stabbed the Marquess with a piece of broken planters pot.” Someone said.

Did he—did he just spoil the end of the book for me right as I was about to finish?

I slam the book shut and look up at the mysterious man with a snarl, “Hey asshat, last time I checked I didn’t ask you.”

“I’ve been called many things,” He said, a smirk on his face that I instantly hated. “But none of the them being asshat.”

“Really,” I faked shock, “How about the asshole, bastard, little shithead who ruined the ending to my book?”

He drew a hand down his tanned jaw, “Never.” Then he winked—he winked, this fudgehead at the audacity to wink at me.

I stood up seething. “Listen here pal, if this is some sick attempt of flirting then fine. But you do not spoil the ending of a book for a bookworm!”

“Bookworm?” He ignores everything else that I just said, I make a growl of a noise and fist my hands at my sides. “Who knew bookworms would be so beautiful?”

This mothertrucker.

Fighting the blush on my cheeks I slap the book into his chest hard, he stumbles back slightly as I sneer. “You just love hearing yourself talk don’t you—”

“—Yes I enjoy listening to myself very much and—”

“—Shut up!” I yelp, “And if you love spoiling the end of this book for random strangers who’ve had a piss awful day, then keep the damn book!”

Muttering a few mighty curses that would have God Almighty rolling around in heaven, I turn my back and walk away. I pinch my arm to fade the crimson tint on my cheeks, stupid asshat.

“Hey! Wait.” I hear him but I shake my head, continuing my trek.

A hand grabs my arm, jolting, I shake the hand off of me but it doesn’t let go. “Let go,” I snarl but only a cocky smirk graces his face.

“You forgot your book,” He didn’t let me go as his other hand shoved the book into me.

“I don’t want it,” I glare, “Unfortunately some asshole ruined the ending for me.”

He chuckles, running his free hand through his dark curly locks. “I’m sorry, it was too good of an opportunity to pass up.”

“Oh?” I cock a brow with fake suprise, my fingers curl around the book with anger. Control, control, control. In a flash, I swing the three hundred page mystery book at him. The soft cover of the book slapping him right across the cheek, a small smile on my face as he looks at me wide eyed. “That—that, was too good of an opportunity to pass up.”

Giving him a deadpanned icy stare, I turn around with my limping hobble of grandmotherly speed only to hear him chuckle. “I’m Reid!” He shouts but I scoff.

Not turning I flip him off, “I don’t care!”

But for some odd reason, a smile was on my face as I hobbled away.
___

Steele

“She hates you.”

“She despises you.”

“Hurt her.”

“Kill.”

“Make her ours.”

Another gulp of the burning liquid slides down my throat painfully. The club is in full swing but my eyes don’t wander away from my drink, I’ve rejected four girls this past hour. What the hell is wrong with me?

“Reign hates you.”

“She’ll scream another man’s name.”

“She will leave all of us.”

Another painfully long sip, another long legged raven haired woman saunters her way up to me. I don’t give her a glance as I chug down the last drop of my beer.

“She hates me.”

“Hey big guy, why are you all alone?” If I had a dollar for every time someone said that, I’d be running circles around the richest man alive. I refrain from thinking of these women as whores, sluts and all the other names they’re called. I’m a whore too, I lust, I have sex, so do they. So what makes me any different?

“I’m not alone,” I say, nodding to our newest bartender as he slides me another drink, “I was alone, and I enjoyed it.” I slide in my seat giving her a chilling smile, “Leave.”

I take in her features as she gulps, long dark hair, dark green eyes, fair skin. She’s almost just like Reign—no, Reign’s hair is cut short loose waves to her shoulders, her eyes are light green, her skin his moonlight pale, her nose is rounder and her lips are fuller. Reign is prettier than this girl will ever be. Reign’s—

“She hates all of you.”

“Corrupt her.”

“Hurt her.”

“Make her fall.”

Another sip as the girl starts walking away, the golden amber liquid sloshes in my stomach. I don’t know how many beers I’ve had, all I know is that I’m not drunk enough till the lights start to swirl, and they aren’t swiling yet.

Another drink.

Another voice drips in my mind.

Another broken promise.

Another way to forget that Reign is intoxicating me.

“Doth my eyes perceive me or did Steele Winters turn a woman down?” Atlas comes to my side with raised brows, I look at him bored before drinking again.

“Not tonight.” I wipe a drop falling from my lips.

“The world has surely gone mad then,” Atlas tuts, I turn to him now raising my brows.

“What do you mean?” Two more sip.

“You’re not getting laid, Kylie’s not in the mood for fighting, Reign’s—” Atlas stops short, voices scream instantly as the name passes my brothers lips.

“I’m waiting,” I finish the bottle, the lights start to swirl. Finally, “Reign’s what?”

“You don’t know?” Atlas chuckles, “Oh brother,”

“Spit it out.” I snarl, drunkenness hitting me like a ton of bricks.

“Reign.”

“Reign.”

“Reign.”

“Reign,” Atlas coughs through chuckles, he stops with a smirk as the lights spin, “Reign is staying with us.”

“She’s staying.”

“Reign doesn’t hate us.”

“Reign.”

“Reign.”

“How do we punish her?”

“Hurt her, Steele.”

“Let’s make her hurt.”

I shake the screams out and stumble forward, “Hey! Where are you going?” Atlas asks put I push past the crowd as people grind against each other, I push past the lusting gazes of females who want to use me.

I slide past the Archway, through the door and up the stairs. Climbing my way up as the voices dim, as the haze of the lights turn into darkness. Crashing into the living room couch I chuckle, making my way towards my room I stop before entering. Shuffling from across the hall makes a manical smile grow on my face. I throw open the door and spin around the dark room. I smile again as I see a petite shadow and I hate it all the same.

I hate that my drunken heart is racing, my fingers curl around the hot air in the room. I walk forward, trying not to shuffle as the shadow doesn’t move. I hate that the voices die in her wake as my hands wrap around the shadow. I hate that I thought of the unthinkable mere hours ago. I hate that I’m losing control over my own mind, the manical grip I had on myself slowly fading as I face the darkness fully.

The haze of the darkness tumbles into the light of the moon, peaking through the closing curtains. A small sigh fans over my neck as I dip forward deeper into the darkness. I hate that everything I’ve been trying so hard to control left my grasp the minute I started.

The minute I started caring for Reign.

“Steele?” Reign places a cold hand on my forehead, “Oh my god, you’re burning up.” She says with no anger laced in her tone. It’s unusual how much worry is in her voice, I like it.

“Angel,” I push her into the window, caging her into the shadows. Her eyes darken as my hand firmly presses against her waist. “Angel—my angel.”

I feel her hand steady me, shadows flicker all over the room. I chuckle slightly, “You're drunk,” She whispers.
Reign tries to move me away, another chuckle escapes me. She’s so cute—too cute.

“No, I’m not!” I shout as Reign shoves me on the bed, “I like us in this position.” I giggle with the shadows as Reign comes besides me, hovering over the covers as she takes off my shoes and undoes my hair.

“Shit, Steele.” I hear her whisper more to herself than me. I giggle again as she touches me face.

“I love it when you touch me, angel.” I whisper, shadows shuffling closer into my eyes. The silhouette of Reign stiffens, her fingers slowly skim over my collarbone.

“You’re definitely drunk,” Reign’s hands go over me, she slowly lifts the sheets over my body. I start to roll into her, Reign yelps as I my face nuzzles into her stomach. She steps back, leaving my nose into the shadows. Her hand goes over me, lifting my head. Reign’s fingers tangle into my hair and I groan in pleasure.

“I’m not drunk on alcohol.” I whisper, her hand leaves my hair as she lays my head into the pillow.

Reign chuckles, “Then what are you drunk on, Steele?”

I flip myself over to my side, facing her standing shadow. I find her cold hand and tangle it in mine, swiftly tugging at the little fingers. Reign squeaks as her small body jolts next to mine.

“I’m intoxicated, angel.” I whisper, smiling as Reign inhales sharply. My fingers fumble into her hair, I hate that it’s only her who makes the nightmares go away. How the voices scream for her and her only now. My fingers run through the dark short strands as the shadows crash down into my eyes, drunkenness of my mind lulls me to sleep.

“I’m intoxicated,” I whisper once more, “Intoxicated on you, angel.”
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