His eyes flash and his mouth quirks into a sinful curve as he takes me in with a sweeping look.
“Sweetheart, every girl here is mine. And every girl in this town knows it.”
Lucas touches his lower lip with his thumb. It comes away red.
I made him bleed.
Serves you right, dick. I cross my arms.
His amusement grows. He looks at me like I’m a dog performing a cute trick.
“They all throw themselves at me eventually.” Lucas gives a carefree shrug. “You’d better fall in line, or we’re gonna have a problem.”
This self-important asshole!
I grit my teeth. I can still taste him.
“Not happening.” To drive the point home, I return the once over he gave me with one of my own and curl my lip. “Ever.”
Lucas snorts and drapes an arm around my shoulders. I wriggle to get away from him, but he’s strong. He contains me without exerting himself.
When I jab his side with my elbow, I come against hard muscles and the trim physique of an athlete. The hot puffs of his raspy laughter ghost across my skin.
He plucks at my hair and gestures at the giant blow up balloon decorations. “It’s my birthday, you know.”
I blink. “And?”
“Let’s call that my birthday present.” Lucas pinches my cheek and leers down at me. “Although, I won’t say no if you want to give me something else. Eighteen’s a milestone birthday, so you can give me something…” Lucas drags his fingertips down my cheek and traces the neckline of my t-shirt, “bigger and flashier than a kiss.”
As I squirm, he holds me tighter. A frustrated breath hisses out of me. Lucas’ nose presses into my temple and the entertained tilt of his mouth grazes my cheek.
“The way I see it, you owed me that kiss for coming to the party,” he mutters.
“Fuck you,” I snarl.
Lucas releases me and digs his fingers in my hair to keep me close. I could run, but I’d end up with my hair yanked for my trouble. His gaze trails over my body and he smirks. Lucas’ entire aura is smug and cocky.
“We can do that, too, sweetheart.”
The disbelief that crashes over me is so profound, it takes a moment to process the sheer audacity this guy has. A hazy red anger bleeds into my vision. I want to wipe that fucking smirk off his face.
How dare Lucas think I’m something he can have. He must be used to getting whatever he wants, whenever he wants it.
Well, tough shit, buddy.
I’m not the kind of girl who will jump at the snap of his fingers.
I grant him a sharp smirk of my own and relish the way he tracks my lips. I stomp on his foot with all my might, driving my heel down on his toes. Satisfaction blooms in my chest when Lucas bites out a surprised curse and lets me go.
“What the f—”
Before he can retaliate and use his strength to incapacitate me again, I dash out of reach.
Alec stands off to the side with an unreadable expression. I grab a fistful of his shirt and drag him behind me as I navigate through the drama vultures.
I shoulder past people that don’t jump out of my way. Curses about spilled drinks follow me.
See if I care. I’m a girl on a mission to get the hell out of this party.
As we reach the big glass door, I glance over my shoulder. Lucas’ gaze is pinned on me with a hunter’s precision. There’s something in his eyes that stirs an uneasiness in me.
My lips contort in acidic disdain. “Come on, Alec.”
My brother trails behind me without a word as we leave the party behind us.
Four
Lucas
It’s not Heather.
That’s the first thought that crossed my mind after she bit my lip.
The second thought persistently blaring in my mind is simple: want.
After the unfamiliar beauty breaks eye contact and disappears into the night, I rub my lip and stare after her. It’s sore where she bit me.
A fire stirs in my belly and drives away the noise of the party.
Jealousy flares through me over her leaving with the new guy on the team. What does he have that I don’t?
My interest sparks to attention as I suck on my split lip. A fog held me prisoner all night—one that crept in bit by bit over the summer—but now I’m alive again. The world realigns in crystal clear focus.
I’m driven by an incarnate instinct to go after that girl for another kiss until she changes her tune and screams yes for me.
Bishop stands closest, his sharp attention flicking between me and the open glass panel.
“Who was that?”
“New girl,” Bishop supplies with a shrug. “She’s Turner’s sister, according to the file I swiped for you when he tried out.”
My eyebrow lifts and I consider her beauty against Turner’s features. “Twins?”
That makes me feel better, the jealousy ebbing away to a dull background noise. I want to make her mine.
“They’re both seniors, so yeah.”
I nod slowly and run my fingers over my chin as my thoughts mill in my head. The fiery kiss replays and my pants feel tighter. My stance shifts as I try to calm down.
“Anything else you know about her?”
“I don’t know, she’s kinda weird. I saw her in the office on the first day with her brother. She seemed like one of those angry girl types. You know, combat boots and a leather jacket paired with the school uniform.” Bishop shrugs. “Want me to snag her file, too?”
Before I’ve even decided, I’m nodding. I clear my throat and run my fingers through my hair.
“Yeah.” My voice is gruff. A horny, restless energy floods my veins and I want to slip away from the party to jack off with a head full of her perfect ass and sweet tongue. “Do you have a name? I can’t go around calling her Girl Turner.”
Bishop chuckles. “No, but I’ll find out.”
“Good.”
I need to learn more. I have to know everything about her so next time I can convince her not to refuse.
“Lucas!”
A hand wraps around my forearm and I allow myself to get dragged back into the party. It’s easier to let go and enjoy it when the cheer squad brings out a cake with sparkler candles. I don’t even grimace at Marissa’s Marilyn Monroe impression when she leads her crew singing happy birthday.
The whole time my mind is wrapped around a hot firecracker with honey-blonde hair and a sexy bite.
Five
Gemma
Saturday morning starts with me tripping over the miscellaneous moving boxes yet to be unpacked lining the hallway. I groan, rubbing my stubbed toe as I hobble down the hall.
Most of our house is assembled, but anytime we move we get complacent about what’s not urgent. Since Alec and I were born, we moved three times around Colorado Springs.
Two months in Ridgeview and there are still random boxes in every area, some acting as makeshift tables while others are relegated to the corner of no return.
“Morning hun,” Mom greets as she enters the hall. She turns her attention to the boxes with a determined air. “This weekend! Family goal: finish these boxes.”
“Didn’t you say to Dad there were some you never unpacked from your first house when we were loading the moving truck?”
She waves me off. “Okay, updated goal: everyone picks one box. We’ll keep going like that until we’ve finished.”
A fond smile at her newfound resolve crosses my face. She probably found some Pinterest article on organization tips. Mom’s always trying stuff like that. Big fan of the Marie Kondo method. Except when it comes to the miscellaneous moving boxes.
“You’ve got it, Mom.”
“Fresh coffee downstairs in ten?”
“It’s a date.”
I was too chickenshit to tell her the whole truth about that night two years ago. Part of me wanted to confess it all, but then I put it off for so long in fear that she’d be mad at me for putting myself in that s
ituation. All I told them was that a boy tried to touch me, glossing over who it was and the extent of it other than firmly stating I wasn’t raped.
It wasn’t the reason we moved. I told them I wasn’t happy at school, so they fixed it. I no longer had to see him in the halls. They’re great about helping and supporting me when I go to them. Then I struggled at the school I transferred to. I broke down when I couldn’t take it anymore and begged for another change.
So my parents found work elsewhere and sprung this move on us.
The smell of caffeine greets me downstairs. I cling to the mug Mom hands me and hum.
“Did Alec say how his night was? What about you, did you meet any new friends?”
I choke on the scalding sip of coffee. My stupid lizard brain flashes to that bastard Saint and his grabby hands. New friends.
“Uh, he had a good time. Yep.”
I gulp more coffee and skip over the party. And the kiss playing on loop in my head. Definitely not bringing any of that up. Despite her question about making friends, Mom and I don’t chat boys.
Dad and Alec enter the kitchen like zombies. Mom waves them to the coffee.
“Morning, Dad.”
He mumbles to me, incoherent until he’s halfway through his first mug of the day. He slumps at the table, half-dozing. Alec fares the same, but I think he’s hungover. He’s not hiding it that well. I keep an eye on Mom and Dad’s reactions to him.
Mom narrows her eyes, but she’ll wait for him to say something about it. As we’ve gotten older, they like us to take responsibility for choices like that. Dad’s favorite new saying from the last couple of years since we first got caught drinking is: if you’re going to pretend to be an adult you’ll face the consequences like one.
Once Dad comes to life via caffeine, he perks up. “How was the first week of school? Adjusting okay?”
They always say we can talk to them about anything. But I can handle it on my own. I can’t run scared just because of some jerk's threat.
“Sure. It’s fine. Books. Knowledge. The works.”
Alec burns a hole in the back of my head as he fixes his drink. The clink of his spoon stirring sugar into his coffee jars me.
“That’s good. You tell us if anything bothers you. That goes for both of you.” Dad refills his mug and blows on it. As he passes me, he pats my head. “There’re plenty of trails around this area. Who’s in for a hike today?”
Alec moans under his breath.
“As long as we get some boxes done,” Mom says.
“I’m in, Dad!” Alec winces at my bright tone on his way to a seat. “I’ve been enjoying the new scenery to explore for photo ops.”
“You should come, Alec,” Dad intones. “Fresh mountain air is an excellent cure for the results of a rowdy night out. It’s bracing. It’ll do you good.”
I hide my cough of amusement in my mug.
* * *
Lucas Saint is still on my mind on Monday and I’m fucking pissed about it.
I hate that I can’t get that damn kiss out of my head. It’s plagued my mind all weekend.
My hands squeeze the steering wheel. Frowning, I turn up the rock song on the radio and nod along as a pitiful distraction.
So what if it was a good kiss? I’m sure lots of people at Silver Lake High are good kissers—if I was interested in finding out. Which I’m not.
My lips purse because what’s really goading my ire is that Lucas just takes without asking. He’s every inch the spoiled king quarterback of this school.
“Whoa there, daredevil,” Alec chides, gripping the handle above the door as I whip the car into the parking lot.
My nostrils flare. Okay, maybe I took that turn sharper than necessary. I need to get my emotions and thoughts in check.
“Deal with it, you big baby. You’re alive, aren’t you?”
Alec chuckles at my huffiness and taps the back of his hand against my shoulder. For a moment it’s like things used to be, before my own twin brother hated my guts for something I couldn’t control.
The moment passes and Alec’s easy going demeanor fades. He clears his throat.
I swallow a disappointed sigh and pull into the first open spot I find between a flashy red sports car and a sleek black Range Rover. With a quick scan of the cars around us, my stomach falls.
Our CR-V is a used model, but not a junker by any stretch. Most of the cars in the lot are souped up and expensive. The price tags are double and even triple the worth of our shared car.
Where are all the normal kids at this school who don’t flaunt their parents’ money?
Alec and I can’t be the only ones.
The school looms on a hill above the student parking lot with stone columns to match the mountainside vibe of Ridgeview. The campus buildings are surrounded by pine trees that stretch into the sky. Coyote statues flank the sign in front of the school declaring it Silver Lake High School: Home of the Ridgeview Coyotes.
Before getting out, I tug at my evergreen and white plaid uniform skirt and adjust the blazer.
At my other two schools we didn’t have a required uniform, and I was free to wear what I was comfortable in. I thumb the school crest embroidered on the black blazer, a gold shield with the school’s initials surrounded by laurels.
I’m grumpy that my brother doesn’t seem as bothered by the uniform. Then again, what’s so different about putting on nicer pants than jeans? At least they’re still pants. The worst he has to deal with is a tie.
We climb out of the car simultaneously with the guy in the neighboring Range Rover and I tense. It’s Lucas.
He spots me before I can hightail it for the steps that lead up to the school. That irritating cocky grin returns.
“Hey, man.” Alec greets as he and Lucas clasp hands, thumping each other on the back. “Dope party on Friday.”
“Yeah.” Lucas cuts his eyes to me over my brother’s shoulder. “Wish you could’ve stuck around longer. We lit off fireworks over the lake.”
“Sweet.”
Behind us, another guy leans against the red sports car and crosses his legs at the ankle. His dark hair swoops into his eyes and his school tie is loose, hanging askew.
He lights up a cigarette despite the security guard in the booth right across from us. Curls of smoke snake out of his nostrils as he stares us down, slouched against his ride.
“Taking red out today, Dev?” Lucas asks.
The corner of the guy’s mouth curls up and he shrugs. He runs his palm across the gleaming paint like a caress. “She was feeling neglected.”
“The car?” I ask before I remember my vow not to interact with anyone.
Lucas’ friend tilts his head at me. I purse my lips and flip my hastily done braid over my shoulder.
Keep quiet, Gem.
“You’re new, right?” The grin Lucas shoots me is all predatory. “Alec is good about introducing himself around. But not you, huh?”
“I’m Devlin.” The smoker with the fancy car offers his hand to shake.
I grant him a tight smile and don’t take it. Lucas watches us. I can almost feel the press of his eyes skating across my skin.
“This is the part where you give us your name, sweetheart.”
Lucas takes a step toward me when I don’t answer.
“Gemma. Her name’s Gemma.”
I glare at Alec. He shrugs and goes back to ignoring me.
“Gemma,” Lucas murmurs. “Now I know what to call you in my head instead of sexy.” Heat flares in his eyes as he takes another step until his body almost brushes against mine. “Been thinking about you since Friday night. You been thinking about me, sweetheart? Was I in your dreams giving you more?”
My eyes widen at his brazen questions when my brother is right there and he just met me. Well, sort of. Friday doesn’t count.
“Not for a single second,” I lie, glossing over how he was on my mind five minutes ago when I was ranting in my head about his entitled attitude.
Lucas smirk
s like he can see right through it. He taps my nose with a curled knuckle.
“Guess I’ll have to kiss you again to set you right.”
“Try it.” I show him my teeth. “I’ll bite you harder this time.”
With a sharp inhale Lucas grabs the edge of my skirt in his fist as he maneuvers me back a step until my shoulders hit the rear of my car.
“You’re getting me all riled up. Keep talking like that, babe, and I’ll have to tear into you right now. In front of everyone.”
Protests scream in my rigid body. “Stop it.”
“If they didn’t catch the show on Friday night, they’ll get a rerun. Everyone pulling in will see you begging for it.”
I stare up at him, my face a blank mask. I force every ounce of self confidence and strength I have into it. On the inside my stomach ices over and I prepare to stomp on his foot again.
Is Alec really going to stand by and watch without doing anything?
My throat burns and I clench my jaw. I’m the only person I can rely on to protect myself.
Lucas traces my lower lip. I snap my teeth and he jerks his hand away before I can get him.
A cruel, raspy laugh rolls through him.
“Better watch it, kitten.” Lucas’ eyes bounce back and forth between mine, then they harden. He chucks me under the chin. “Don’t make me get out the spray bottle.”
A growl rumbles through me before I can control my reaction.
I look for an escape, but more people sidle up. It gives me the opportunity to shuffle several steps away from Lucas when the newcomers distract him. He tosses me a quick frown, but his friends demand his attention.
A glance at Alec confirms he’s not even looking our way. Un-fucking-believable.
“Burns! What’s up, brother?” Alec greets.
Alec bumps his knuckles against the guy he called Burns with familiarity and puckers his lips cheekily at the girls. Burns must be on the football team because he’s stacked.
Wicked Saint: Sinners and Saints Book 1 Page 3