Lost in Salvation

9. Johnnie Walker Blue

Hunter

I quietly wind Lorelei up the stairs and down the first hallway on the right. She doesn't say anything and neither do I, content to stay in comfortable silence. Or I guess, not so comfortable. I'm admittedly not any happier than she is about this new arrangement, but this is what Cameron wanted, so this is what he gets.

What deal, or rather, debt he owes to the Phoenix family is a mystery to me and the rest of the guys. Even if Wren is technically the active leader of our organization, Cameron still gets final say in situations like these.

The bastard still controls what he wishes, even sitting on his ass in retirement.

When we reach the door to Lorelei's new room, I open it with a twist of the doorknob and step out of the way, swinging my arm in the direction of the room and smirking down at the woman in question, all doorman style.

"Your room, my lady." I give the best posh tone I can, lowering my voice even farther.

Lorelei rolls her big brown eyes at me, sauntering past my snickering figure.

"You're an idiot," she deadpans, gazing around the room.

It's a pretty nice bedroom, one of our larger guest rooms. Though, it doesn't have much personality. With walls painted a creamy tan color and little to no decor, it'll be akin to staying in a hotel.

There's a queen bed situated in the center, decorated with silk sheets and a fluffy white comforter. Matching nightstands sit like bookends on both sides of the comfortable beast and a walk-in closet gives more room than needed for all of her clothes. A giant flatscreen TV is mounted to the wall opposite from the bed, with a stone fireplace twinkling underneath.

The room also boasts its own ensuite and two large windows that overlook one of the best views in the house, the mountains.

"So I've been told,"

Setting her duffle down, she turns, eyes still trained on the bedroom. "Why am I here, Hunter?"

I shrug because truthfully, "I don't know, Pup."

"How do you not know?" she practically growls, gaze finally leveling with mine. "It's your house, your band of assholes."

"Technically," I maniacally point out. "It's Wren's house and Wren's band of assholes, as you so graciously put it."

Lorelei crosses her arms, tits perking up even farther with the movement. And I don't even try to stop myself from checking them out. They're a beautiful pair of tits, I gotta give her that.

She snaps, eyes boiling with rage. "My eyes are up here,"

"Oh I'm very aware," I smirk, leaning against the doorframe, hands sliding into my pockets.

"Whatever," she rolls her eyes again, which I'm already realizing she's very fond of doing. "I thought it was Cameron's house,"

"Used to be," I give the dog a small bone. "Wren took over last year when Cameron retired,"

Which is only a half true statement. Technically, Cameron still gives out the official orders, probably will until he falls into a grave. The militant douchebag can't stand to not have every ounce of power, but Wren bought the house from his father last year, making him 'official' president of the organization. Pretty complicated if you ask me, which is why I'm happy not to handle it all. How Wren deals with it, I will never understand.

Lorelei's eyes blow wide. "So you mean to tell me that Wren is the head of all this?"

"Sure is," I grin at her displeasure, egging her on.