“Do. Not. Fuck. With. My. Things.” Each of Jason’s words had a smack to emphasize it.

The moment Jason stopped, Vincent hauled me upright. He turned me, directing me toward his mangled Subaru. All his windows had been busted out, the glass shimmering around the vehicle like a sad dusting of glitter. He guided me with one hand on the nape of my neck as Manson opened the car’s passenger door.

“I believe in making the best of a bad situation,” Vincent said, his lips brushing teasingly over my ear as Manson used a rag to brush any remaining shards of glass away from the window frame. “Would I prefer to take you up to my attic and string you up from the ceiling? Absolutely. But I guess that will have to wait until the next time you throw a goddamn tantrum.”

Manson smiled at me through the open window, the baseball bat he held tapping on the ground. If it had been Alex or one of the other guys left behind, those bats would have been put to use. They would have made an example of them, a clear warning that they weren’t to be fucked with. Instead, it was only me here to take the fall.

My brain was a mess, flooded with confusing hormones, but it didn’t need to do me the cruelty of thinking about how hot the four of them wielding bats would be. Bloody beatdowns weren’t supposed to be sexy.

Vincent bent me over the open window. My feet barely touched the ground, the windowsill digging into my stomach. It put my face level with Manson’s hips, with his…

God. He was hard. My mouth gaped open and closed wordlessly as he clutched himself through his jeans.

“How are we doing this, angel?” he said. Vincent shoved up my dress and gripped my stinging flesh before he dragged his nails over me, leaving burning trails behind. “Are you going to show me you’re sorry, or am I forcing you?”

I felt like I’d been shrunk down to a minuscule size. Lucas came around the side of Subaru, bat swinging in his hand, to stand behind Manson’s shoulder. The two of them looking down at me — armed, dangerous, and furious — was even more fuel for my quivering humiliation.

I sharply sucked in a breath as Vincent smacked my ass. The swat stung as much as Jason’s, but Vincent paused before the next smack, allowing the sting to bloom and settle before he ignited it again.

“Answer Daddy Manson, Jess,” he said, the tease obvious in his voice.