The Reclamation (The Club Trilogy Book 2) by Lauren Rowe Page A

doesn’t speak for a long beat. “Okay, bro,” he finally concedes. “We’ll do things your way.”
    That’s exactly right—we’ll do things my fucking way. I’m going to keep Sarah out of harm’s way and make her feel safe and protected at all times, through any means necessary, no matter what. All my baby needs to do is go to her classes and study her law books and chase that scholarship she wants so badly and help her mom save the world one battered woman at a time and then come home to me and spread her smooth olive thighs on top of my crisp white sheets and let me glory in her and make love to her and lick her and fuck her and kiss her and suck her and show her how I feel. I want her relaxed and happy and satisfied and carefree—not sitting around thinking some boogeyman is coming to get her. And, quite selfishly, I don’t want Sarah even thinking about The Club anymore, in any capacity. From now on, she can channel all her sexual curiosity into me. She’s all mine now—and I want her undivided attention.
    My heart pounds in my ears.
    I pull my Club-issued iPhone out of my jeans pocket and toss it onto the kitchen table. “We don’t need Sarah’s input, anyway. I’ve still got the keys to their kingdom. The fuckers haven’t deactivated me.”
     

Chapter 9
    Jonas
     
    “Wow.” Josh pauses briefly, staring at my Club-issued iPhone on the table. “I’m surprised they haven’t cut you off. They must not be sure if you’re friend or foe. Maybe you’re right—maybe they don’t know for sure what’s gone down between you and Sarah.”
    “Yeah, and they’d better be goddamned positive I’m the enemy before cutting me off. Hell hath no fury like an asshole unjustly separated from his quarter of a million bucks.”
    Josh lets out a loud puff of air. “Oh my God, Jonas. You joined The Club for a year? ”
    Shit. I’ve never mentioned that little detail to Josh before. I completely forgot he assumes I joined for a fun-filled month, just like he did.
    “That’s hardcore, man. Damn.”
    He’s right. I shrug.
    “Ha!” He shakes his head, smiling. “I feel totally vindicated. Which Faraday brother is the playboy now?”
    I can’t help but laugh. Of the two of us, Josh has always been tagged as the bad boy playboy, maybe because he’s always so public about his relationships and partying, when all the while it’s me who’s been burning through women like a lawnmower through tall grass.
    “Oh, hey, that reminds me. Kat left a message for you—which she addressed specifically to ‘Playboy.’”
    Josh looks disappointed. “She left?”
    “Yeah, she had to go to work. Said she has to ‘live her life.’ But she gave me a message for you: ‘Tell Playboy I’d love to hang out with him some time—whenever he’s done chasing Mickey Mouse roller coasters, if ever.’”
    Josh groans.
    I laugh. “Hey, man, you did it to yourself. You’re the one who said all that Mickey Mouse bullshit right in front of her. Dumbass.”
    Josh looks totally bummed.
    “You liked her, huh?”
    “Did you see her? Oh my God.”
    “She’s just your type.”
    “She’s everybody’s type.”
    “Well, she obviously thinks you’re a total asswipe.”
    Josh smashes his mouth into a hard line. “She was sassy, too. I like sassy.”
    “It’s your own damned fault.”
    “Fuck you. You’re the one who signed up for a whole year’s worth of Mickey Mouse roller coasters, not me. Pervert.”
    He’s got me there. I’ve got no comeback.
    “What the hell did you ask for in your application that you needed a whole year of it?” he asks.
    “It doesn’t matter. I told you—I was having some kind of nervous breakdown. What did you ask for in your application?”
    “None of your business.” Josh’s face turns earnest. He fidgets. “Hey, man, I had no idea you were... you know, having such a hard time. I thought you were living large, being a beast. I had no idea you were... you know... ”
    “Turning into