In the limo, my thoughts drift again.
Maybe it is wedding day nerves, but I keep circling back around to how Cohen fit himself into the role of the man I always hoped he would become. The man he is beneath the monster that used to torment me. My throat swells and one corner of my mouth lifts in a half-smile.
He’s still a wicked bastard, but he’s just as much of a sweet gentleman.
Cohen is wild, and he has possessed my heart so thoroughly it’s any wonder I thought he wasn’t seeping between the cracks in my walls over the years. Once those walls came down, Cohen rushed in like a flood and I’ll be damned if I can ever get him back out.
Not that I’d want to.
The partnership we’ve forged started that first weekend at the cabin after New Year’s Eve. We watched the sunrise sitting in a swing on the porch wrapped in a big blanket. Cohen had curled his arms around my waist and kissed the back of my neck as I perched on his lap with my knees tucked against my chest.
In those first rays of dawn creeping over the foggy hills, we worked out a strategy between us. We figured out how we would shift things to make changes for when we step into our roles in the empire’s machine that rules our lives.
Things are going well on both fronts.
Dad won’t be able to sneeze without triggering a federal investigation and Albert Mastriano plans to retire soon to live in Costa Rica. Only a few key players remain standing on the board and Cohen and I are coming for them with everything we’ve got. We’re building our empire on our terms.
“Ready, Annie?” Margot pats my hand as the limo pulls up to the botanical gardens.
The grin that breaks free is impossible for me to contain. “Yeah.”
We’re herded from the car into the garden and lined up by the coordinator running the show.
It’s not until the ceremony music reaches me that the nerves kick back in for a second. All I want is to run down that aisle to reach Cohen. Margot turns around and hugs me in the seconds she has before her cue to walk.
“Knock him dead, killer,” Margot whispers.
“Keep him from running for me, would you?” I joke.
Margot snorts. “Girl, that guy is sick with how much he loves you. He’s in it for the long haul.”
The coordinator taps Margot on the shoulder and we share one more moment before Margot is gone. I take steady breaths and focus on the single pink Queen Protea I carry. The petals of the desert plant are soft when I stroke my fingertips over them with a light brush.
Cohen had laughed his ass off when I showed him the flower choices and told him the name of the flower he pointed to. To be honest, I found it pretty amusing, too.
“Okay, Annie. Time to go,” the coordinator tells me with a nod.
I start walking, my legs weirdly shaky even though the nerves have dissipated. The surge of adrenaline is a heady rush.
My wedding gown moves with me as I make my way around the corner. It’s similar to the one I wore to the masquerade gala.
The anticipation buzzes through me like the bubbly champagne from this morning. I can’t wait to see Cohen’s reaction to the whole ensemble put together. I picked it all out to look just like that night when things clicked into place for us.
As I lift my head to peer down the aisle at Cohen, a shocked giggle escapes me. His deep, rich laughter reaches me from across the garden. I hesitate for a beat and then continue down the aisle, grinning.
Cohen has a matching expression and shakes his head as I reach him, his hand held out to take mine.
We surprised each other by both wearing masks.
“I see we coordinated well.” Cohen taps the same simple black mask he’s wearing, the same one he wore that night at the masquerade gala. He sucks his lips between his teeth as he takes me in. “You look amazing.”
“Have you seen my fiancé, Colton?” I tease, pretending to search the crowd of guests. “He was supposed to meet me here at this time.”
Cohen’s grin remains in place as I unmask him and reveal hypnotic dark eyes. His fingers graze my skin as he cups my face and I nuzzle into the touch. He removes my mask and tucks it into his pocket.
“I want to put this with my other keepsake from that night,” Cohen murmurs against the shell of my ear.
Sucking in a breath, I pinch his side, a dark laugh rolling out me. “You better be kidding.”
“You’ll just have to find out.”
Cohen flashes me a smug look before settling his hand at the small of my back and turning to face the officiant.
The ceremony is infused with our personalities and the botanical garden fills with laughter and audible sniffles from the guests. In our vows we make promises about the future. Cohen’s gaze bores into mine with intensity as we utter secret code words to each other that mean more to us than what the guests hear.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife.” The officiant nods to Cohen. “You may now kiss the bride.”
“Let’s misbehave, Annie,” Cohen murmurs.
His thumbs stroke my waist as he pulls me closer.
My mouth curves into a slow smile.
“Together,” I agree.
Cohen closes the distance between us, his lips connecting with mine. The celebratory cheers from the guests fade into the background as we kiss. One of Cohen’s hands comes up to cup my face and as we part from the heartfelt kiss, I rest my forehead against his.
I always thought I was a helpless princess locked in my cage, but Cohen helped me see that I’m stronger than that. With him by my side, I’ll never be caged again.
Cohen takes my hand and kisses the back of it as Margot passes me the single Queen Protea.
We face our friends and family. Cohen squeezes my hand and leans over.
“Ready to get out of here with me, sweetheart?”
My smile stretches wider.
“I hear there’s a sunrise with our names on it.”
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Acknowledgments
I want to thank you, readers, for checking out this book! It means so much to me that you supported my work. I wouldn’t be here without you! I hope you enjoyed your read!
Thanks to my husband for being you! He doesn’t read these, but he’s my biggest supporter, keeps me fed and watered while I’m in the writer cave, and doesn’t complain when I fling myself out of bed at odd hours with an idea to frantically scribble down.
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Special thank you to Gwen Martin for being an earlier flail-er with me as I planned this story, for reading it early to catch any fires I started while writing it, and for genuinely being a fan. Having you as a friend in the foxhole is a dream!
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Preview the Sinners and Saints Series
W
icked Saint
Sinners and Saints Book 1
dark new adult high school bully romance
Cover Reveal: January 2020
Release: February 2020
GEMMA
he stole my first kiss…
and now he thinks everything else is his.
I said no to the one person no one at this school dares to refuse.
Now I’m targeted by jealous girls, guys that compete to be the first to “break the prude”, and by him. After one kiss, the king of the school hunts me down like I’m a conquest to win. He’ll have to fight harder than that, because I’m no one’s trophy.
They all want a piece of me, but I will not bend or break for them.
LUCAS
no one refuses the king.
One case of mistaken identity and a hasty kiss turned my world upside down.
The new girl refused me. Not only that, she threw down the gauntlet. That won’t stand. No one ever says no to me. This school is mine and she’ll learn her place as a loyal follower or her life is going up in flames.
I’ll make her say yes. She’ll be screaming it before I’m finished breaking her.
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CHAPTER 1
gemma
The minute I pull into the upscale, gated community of Silver Lake Forest Estates my muscles clench up.
I force air into my lungs and focus on the GPS directions from my mounted phone on the dash. The house party is at the far point of the private lake. I have zero interest in going, but here I am.
I can still taste the sour beer when I think of the last party I went to.
It’s funny how weird details like that linger when all you want to do is forget the whole thing.
Get in, get out. That’s my plan.
I’ll get through this as fast as possible.
My body hasn’t gotten the memo and my stomach flips in protest as I pass a sign for a pool and two tennis courts.
I have no choice, despite not wanting to be on this errand. Mom had to guilt trip me into venturing into the fray to bring Alec home. Damn her wily, motherly ways of applying pressure to all my weak points.
If I didn’t pick Alec up, I could kiss my use of our shared Honda CR-V goodbye and forfeit the keys to Alec’s control. I don’t give up control over anything anymore.
Just the thought of being at the mercy of someone else’s decisions, even my family’s, makes my fingers tighten on the wheel.
I can only guess what awaits me at Lucas Saint’s house. No one would shut up about it as I tried to navigate the halls of my new school. The local golden boy was throwing a big bash to kick off senior year.
A girl in my math class didn’t clock my leave me alone vibe and told me his huge birthday parties always marked the start of the school year.
Catch me running as fast as possible in the opposite direction.
At least, until I was voluntold to go pick up my twin brother.
Siblings are such a blessing.
I love being a taxi service, said no one ever.
The corner of my mouth lifts in a humorless half-smile.
Unlike me, Alec was thrilled to dive straight into the social scene. I guess it was his way of soothing the fits he pitched over moving away from our hometown. As soon as we started senior year at our new school, he tried out for the football team and made varsity for his agility.
He has no trouble fitting in with the crowd while I prefer to keep my head down and watch from afar.
The closer I drive to the party, the tighter my stomach twists into knots.
This neighborhood is way fancier than Ridgeview’s east valley, where my family moved to in July. I drive by a rock climbing gym, for fuck’s sake. What kind of rich people nonsense is this?
I roll my eyes as I turn onto the winding road that cuts back and forth along the incline. Silver Lake Forest Estates sits up on the mountain that divides the town of Ridgeview. Each house I pass is more extra than the last. The ones that boast lakefront property take the cake, with docks and boathouses large enough to count as a modest house.
This side of town is unfamiliar to me. I’ve only spent time getting my bearings and learning my way around my new house, where the middle and upper middle class families are apparently peasants compared to the people living it up here on the west ridge.
A private security truck with the logo of the gated community on the door comes around the bend and heads in the direction I came from.
“Your destination is ahead on the left,” the automated voice of the GPS tells me.
My stomach feels like the crunch of gravel beneath the tires as I pull up to the party.
God, I hate parties.
They only bring up bad memories and bile in the back of my throat.
Taking a second to give my quivering insides time to settle, I rub my belly and take in the luxury lakeside house. It looms high into the trees with a huge deck jutting from one side and a wraparound front porch. Kids from school swarm the property like rabid ants, clutching red plastic cups that slosh over while they dance and shriek.
My stomach gives another unimpressed roil and I suck in a breath.
The last place I want to be right now is some spoiled rich brat’s party. This is not my scene at all. It hasn’t been for almost two years, not since I was sixteen.
“Let’s get this over with,” I mumble to myself.
As soon as I climb out of the car, I sidestep to avoid two streaks of dark hair and bare, bouncing boobs that dart past me in the inky dusk falling over the mountains.
I don’t even bother snapping at them to watch it. Things are better for me if I don’t engage.
The streaking girls are followed by two grinning meatheads from the football team. The girls giggle as they strip out of their matching cutoff shorts halfway down the long dock and the guys peel off their practice jerseys.
A scoff escapes me beneath my breath as the four of them dive into the lake, the girls’ squeals echoing.
They aren’t the only people in the water. Several other classmates splash around and huddle close.
Today’s one of those cool early fall days in Colorado, not exactly ideal for skinny dipping.
A round of cheers from the group on the deck draws my attention. I suck my lips between my teeth and try to push down the memories sinking their claws into me. I don’t want to be here, but I need to pick up Alec.
Shoving my hands into the pockets of my jean jacket, I trudge up the stairs to the deck, keeping my eyes peeled for my brother. I weave through the people milling around the deck. It’s tough to look for someone and keep your head down at the same time.
Somebody tries to hand me a beer and I swerve away hard, balling my fists in my pockets while my nostrils flare.
I’m so busy getting the hell away from whoever tried to ply me with a drink that I plow right into the girl from my math class.
“Hey!”
Her soda—and whatever it’s mixed with—splashes over the rim of her cup. I blank on her name and strain to remember the roll call Mrs. Ellis took this morning. Alana?
“Oh, new girl! Hey,” Maybe-Alana repeats, her voice changing to a friendlier tone. She licks the excess soda dripping from her finger and hooks her arm with mine before I have a chance to move on. “You made it after all. Come on, let’s go wish Lucas a happy birthday.”
I dig my heels in. “Uh, I’m actually just here to get my brother.”
“You have a brother?” Maybe-Alana ignores my disinterest and waves enthusiastically to one of the cheerleaders. “I think I saw Lucas inside. Let’s check.”
“Elena! Where you going, girl?” A bulky guy in a Silver Lake High School Coyotes football hoodie calls to us. “I thought you were my beer pong partner next?”
Elena. Shit. I’m glad I didn’t call her by the wrong name aloud.
She flips off the football player and se
nds him a cheeky grin over her shoulder. “Later! We’re on a mission.”
Elena’s sleek black curls bounce as she leads me inside through a folding glass door. Except, it can’t really be called a door when it’s three panels wide and folds to open an entire wall of the kitchen.
“Damn,” I mutter.
“I know, right?” Elena titters. “The first time I came here I thought it was Mount Olympus or some shit. But I was, like, ten. The Saints invited the whole fifth grade class for a swimming party for Lucas’ birthday.”
It’s just as packed inside, maybe more so. There’s a set of gold jumbo balloons in the number eighteen stuck to the wall. People dance in a writhing mass in the living room to music pouring out of a surround sound speaker system attached to exposed beams in the vaulted ceiling.
For a second I freeze up. My heart rockets into my throat and I’m sent to that night. A cold, clammy sweat breaks out on the back of my neck.
Elena doesn’t notice—or doesn’t care—as she babbles about knowing Lucas Saint since grade school.
The interior of the house is like a staged design out of an upscale magazine. I focus on that to claw my way out of my memories, back to the present. The kitchen has a massive island at the center with pendant lights that hang down over the white granite countertops.
Rows of hard liquor bottles line the island along with stacks of plastic cups, set up as a self-serve bar.
There’s a farmhouse table by the windows where a game of flip cup is in progress. The groups playing shout nonsense at each other and I spot my brother amongst them reveling in the fun.
Unmasked Heart Page 8