by Becca Steele
At the sound of his name, he stilled, then raised himself above me. He blinked a few times, the haze of lust disappearing, replaced with a dark expression. “Wait. Why are you in my bedroom? How did you get in here?”
Oh. He was asking the difficult questions now. I was pinned in place, unable to move, and as I stared up at him, his jaw clenched. “Answer the fucking question.”
“I…um…” I licked my suddenly dry lips. “I…”
Turning his head, he scanned the room, and when he inhaled sharply, I followed his gaze to the desk. No. The top drawer wasn’t closed all the way. “Have you been snooping in here?” His voice was hard.
“I just wanted to see—”
“Is this about the money?” he interrupted me, hissing the words through gritted teeth.
The silence between us stretched, until it was unbearable, and the word fell from my lips.
“Yes.”
Hauling me off the bed, he shoved me in the direction of the door, sending me staggering into the wall. “Get. Out.”
“Carter, I—”
“Now.”
For a moment, we stared at each other. The unmistakable anger and hurt in his eyes was too much, and I realised what a mistake I’d made in coming here.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, then turned on my heel and left. There was nothing more I could say.
22
The car park in front of the large warehouse was completely full. After circling around fruitlessly, Lena spun the wheel and turned out of the car park, coming to a halt in front of a roll-up door with a “no parking” sign on it. “This’ll do. No one will be around to check at this time of night.” We piled out, and I stretched my arms up in the air, working out the kinks from being crammed in the back seat next to Lena’s friends. My T-shirt rode up, exposing a sliver of skin, and I tugged it back down again. This outfit…it was most definitely out of my comfort zone. Not as skimpy as my Fright Night costume, but the difference was, I couldn’t hide behind a mask this time. I wore a loose black T-shirt, strategically ripped, exposing my cleavage, and tiny black shorts that made me cringe when I’d put them on. Of course, this was Lena’s doing. She wore similar, but with her tall, slim body she looked like a model.
At least I had on flat shoes. Old black Chucks, to be exact. I didn’t know exactly what was going to be happening at this party, but we’d been told to wear clothes that we didn’t mind being ruined.
There was a ball of nerves in my stomach, but overriding that, there was a sense of pure excitement. This party to celebrate the birthdays of three members of the AHS football team was open invite, so even though I knew that Carter would be there, I was hoping it would be busy enough that I wouldn’t run into him. After everything that had happened, he had backed right off, and although I couldn’t stop the way I felt about him, I was starting to realise that maybe things were better this way. We’d had our moments, when I thought we’d really connected, but I was starting to come around to his way of thinking—I was no good for him.
I pushed aside thoughts of Carter and turned to face the reason for my excitement. The party.
People milled around outside the large warehouse, set slightly apart from the others. Flashing lights and the thud of heavy bass spilled from the cracked panes of the small, high windows running down the side of the building.
“I can do this,” I mumbled to myself, and then the old familiar panic rose in me as I took a step closer to Lena.
As if she was aware of my thoughts, she squeezed my arm. “I’m proud of you. All you need to do is fake it until it becomes real, yeah?”
“Okay.” Pushing my misgivings way, way down, I allowed the excitement to bubble up as we entered the building, passing through an entrance foyer and into the main warehouse.
The dark, cavernous space was lit by pulsing neon lights in bright colours. Machines pumped out slow, lazy clouds of smoke, curling and drifting around people’s feet and up into the air, making everything appear hazy. At the far end of the space a DJ was up on a platform, and at the near end, close to the entrance, was a bar area. Bodies filled the space, most covered in splashes of colourful neon paint, glowing under the black lights.
“Drinks first. Can you get them? I’m not legally old enough.” Lena gave me her best innocent look, speaking loudly to be heard over the music.
Raising a brow, I stared at her. “You expect me to believe you don’t own a fake ID?”
She smirked. “But yours is real. Get us both whatever you want to drink. I’ll only have one since I’m driving.”
“Fine.” After pushing my way to the bar, I scanned through the limited options available and ordered us both bottles of some fruity alcoholic cider. Returning to Lena, I handed her one of the bottles.
After taking a sip, she turned to me with a grin. “Rule one. Finish this drink, but don’t leave it unattended. Rule two. Dance for at least one song. Rule three. Find a boy, and practice flirting with him.”
“I have to do all that?” Actually, it all sounded easy enough, except for the flirting part.
She nodded, still smiling at me.
I sighed. “Fine. Are you going to do the same?”
“Yep. Except the flirting.”
“Why do I have to flirt and you don’t?”
Her eyes shuttered. “Because there’s no one here that I want.”
I raised a brow at her firm tone but didn’t push it. “Fine. Let’s get this over with.” Lifting the bottle to my lips, I let the ice-cold berry liquid slide down my throat. “Mmm. This is nice.”
“You don’t drink much, do you? Best not to have too much,” she warned me.
We moved further into the warehouse, among the crowd of bodies, weaving in and out. I kept a tight grip on Lena’s hand, not wanting to lose her in the crowd. She followed her friends towards a doorway at the far side of the warehouse, and after pushing our way through a crowded corridor, we ended up back outside, this time around the back of the warehouse. There was a huge open space, all pitted, cracked concrete, and filling around two-thirds of it was what looked like a kind of obstacle course made of what I would class as junk—sheets of corrugated cardboard, crates, and tyres. People were running through it, being pelted with water balloons filled with bright neon paint, and colourful smoke bombs were being set off at regular intervals along the course, reducing the visibility. Over at the side, the large red shipping container with “Chillout Zone” sprayed on the side in huge letters caught my eye.
“The paint run,” Lena’s friend Jax announced. “Wanna go?”
I glanced back to the shipping container. “Lena? I’m going to check that out while I finish my drink. Meet you after?”
She smiled and nodded, handing me her drink, and then joined the others while I headed towards the shipping container.
As soon as I entered, I realised my mistake when I recognised the people inside. Kian leaned against the wall, facing away from me, talking to Chris, another guy from the football team. This was where the popular people were. I took a couple of steps backwards, ready to flee, when I was stopped by a hand on my arm.
“Leaving already?” Looking up, I was met by a pair of sapphire eyes, blond hair, and a chiselled jawline. Preston Montgomery III, one of the football team strikers, recently moved here from the USA.
“Yeah. Sorry, I…”
“You don’t have to go.” He took a step closer. “Raine, right?” A smile curved across his lips at the surprise on my face.
“I don’t belong here,” I said softly.
His eyes darkened. “You do. Come with me.” He tugged my arm gently, and I let him lead me over to the side of the container. “First up, we need to give you your war paint.”
“War paint?” What was going on? Placing the bottles down next to me, I let him seat me on a stool, where he spun me to face him. He gestured to the smears of paint decorating his face and body.
“Kian’s idea.” His smile grew soft, and he glanced across to where Kian was standing. As if they wer
e connected by an invisible thread, Kian’s gaze immediately went to Preston’s, a completely unexpected, huge smile appearing on his face, and I knew. Preston’s eyes flew to mine at my sharp intake of breath. He read my expression correctly and stiffened. “Please don’t tell anyone. We’re…I…”
“I would never. It’s not my place,” I assured him.
He relaxed at my words. “Thanks. I mean it. It’s…”
“If only we didn’t have to hide,” I murmured, and I didn’t know if I was referring to his situation or to mine. “If only we were free to be ourselves without judgement.”
“Yeah.” We both sighed, then laughed. I’d never spoken to Preston before, but there was something about him that made me feel comfortable around him. Dipping his fingers in the neon paint, he carefully smeared it across my cheeks, then took my hand and led me towards the back of the container. When we arrived, he directed me onto an inflatable sofa, handing me the bottle he’d been carrying for me, and sat down next to me, slinging his arm across the back of the sofa.
I finally gathered together the courage to look up and immediately wished I hadn’t. All eyes were on me, and most were hostile. Grouped on sofas, crates, and on the floor around a large, upturned crate that was serving as a table were half the football team plus Anastasia and her group of friends. I didn’t dare to look over at the sofa where Carter sat, Xavier on one side and Anastasia on the other.
“Are you lost?” The girl sitting across from me gave me a pointed glare, looking between me and Preston.
He bent his head close to my ear and spoke so low that there was no way anyone else would hear him. “Don’t let them scare you away. They just feel threatened by you.”
“She can stay.” Kian slumped down on the sofa perpendicular to mine, pulling his lip ring into his mouth. Wow, what was this? First Preston, now Kian? He stretched out his legs, his trainer nudging against Preston’s, and I saw a small smile play across his lips. “Spin the bottle, anyone?”
His words stopped everyone staring at me, thankfully. But spin the bottle, really? I had no idea people even played it. Of course, this was technically my first party.
“I don’t want her here.” Anastasia spoke low, but I still heard her. Giving me a disdainful look, she snuggled up to Carter like she had every right to. He hadn’t even acknowledged my presence yet, but he threw an arm around her neck and whispered something in her ear, making her laugh and glance over at me. This was so hard. If it wasn’t for Lena shouting “comfort zone” in my head, and Preston’s presence next to me, I would’ve bolted.
I watched, breathless, as the bottle was set on the coffee table, and Kian gave it an experimental spin. Looking around at the people playing, I knew that if I joined in, it was going to be awkward whoever I ended up kissing. Carter’s presence, and the fact I was an outsider here and none of them liked me very much…it had the potential to mess up all my progress so far. I downed the rest of my bottle quickly, catching Imogen’s eye in the process. She gave me a reassuring smile, which I returned shyly. Maybe not all of them were so bad.
“Chris. You wanna start?” Kian grinned. “Usual rules. Kiss whoever it lands on, or do a forfeit.”
This didn’t sound good. I had no desire to find out what the forfeits would consist of, and I didn’t want to know. I was pretty sure kissing anyone here had to be better than one of Kian’s forfeits.
Chris spun, landing on Carter. “Oh baby, pucker up.”
“Fuck off.” Carter’s mouth set in a flat line. “Do the forfeit.”
“Aren’t you dying to taste these sweet lips?” He pouted, and I couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up.
“Who knows where that mouth has been.” Carter stared at him.
“On your mum’s pussy.”
“You’re fucking gross.”
“Hate to interrupt the chat, but some of us want to get on with the game,” Anastasia piped up. “Kiss or forfeit. It’s not difficult.” The boys glanced at each other, then both shrugged. Chris leaned forwards, placing a kiss on Carter’s lips, and then they both started cracking up.
“Do that again.” Anastasia’s voice was all breathy. “That was hot.”
“Ana, please.” Carter gave her a kind of frustrated smile, and she smiled back up at him. Out of nowhere I was hit by an irrational surge of jealousy, as I watched Carter return her smile with a proper one.
“Ana, your turn, baby.” I’d never been so happy for Kian interrupting, as they stared into each other’s eyes.
She tore her gaze away from Carter, shrugging out from under his arm to lean forwards and spin. The bottle seemed to spin forever, and we all watched in silence as it slowed. Most of the boys looked hopeful—and why wouldn’t they? Anastasia was beautiful, and popular, and connected.
The bottle slowed to a stop, and my stomach sank. Her eyes flicked to mine, and the dread I felt was reflected in her eyes. “No. I pick a forfeit.” Her voice was firm.
I stared down at the bottle, not really taking it in. It was pointing directly at me.
“What’s the matter? Scared of kissing me?” Who am I and what are these words coming out of my mouth?
“I’m not scared. I just know where your mouth’s been, and I don’t want to catch anything.” She grimaced, then added, “You shouldn’t even be here. You don’t belong with us.”
The combination of the alcohol, the jealousy, and the pure frustration with my situation with Carter sent the words pouring from my lips before I could censor them. “Says who? What exactly is it about me that makes me so undesirable, huh?”
Stop talking! What am I saying?
Everyone stared at me in shock. Anastasia’s mouth opened and closed a few times. “You don’t fit in with us,” she eventually said.
“Ana.” At Imogen’s soft reprimand, Anastasia sat back with a huff.
“I already know what your forfeit is gonna be.”
Before Kian had even finished speaking, Anastasia flew to her feet, storming around the crate to me. “Fine. I’ll kiss her.” Then she grabbed my arm, pulling me to my feet. We both froze, our faces close together. Up close, I could see the jade green of her eyes, with silver flecks, and the light dusting of freckles across her tiny nose. She licked her lips, and I realised she was nervous.
Anastasia, nervous? The untouchable ice queen? Her pause gave me the confidence to do what I did next. I closed the gap between us and placed my lips on hers. She kissed me back hesitantly, then gaining confidence, followed my lead.
We must’ve only kissed for a few seconds before we both pulled away from each other, but everyone around us had gone completely silent. Anastasia’s hand flew to her mouth, and then her expression turned hard. She tossed her glossy hair over her shoulder, back to her usual self.
“Not bad, Laurent. I guess you kiss alright, for a frigid virgin.”
Fuck you.
“That was hot as fuck,” Xavier murmured to sounds of agreement, and I suddenly became aware of everyone staring at us. My cheeks reddened at the attention. I couldn’t help my gaze flicking over to Carter, and I was surprised to see anger there. I watched as Anastasia slid back into place next to him, and he threw his arm over her shoulder again, burying his face in her hair.
It was all too much. “I need some air,” I said, and fled, making my way for the safety of the door.
23
“You’re so far out of your comfort zone, you’re in another orbit.” Lena’s voice stopped me in my tracks. Making my way over to the dim corner of the container where she was standing, I sat on an upturned crate, my legs shaky.
“What does that even mean?” I turned to look at her paint-splattered face, which was beaming with pride.
“I never thought I’d see the day when you and Anastasia Egerton would kiss. I’ve been watching you, and honestly, I thought you would’ve tapped out before they even started playing, but you’ve surprised me. In a good way. You’re a lot stronger than you realise, Raine. Look how you held your own over there.�
�� Her voice held a note of impressed disbelief, if that was even a thing, and warmth filled me.
“I did, didn’t I? I managed to hold my own.” My voice lowered. “I think I made Anastasia nervous.”
Lena nodded. “Yeah, she’s not as confident as she pretends to be. Most of those guys over there, they’re all too afraid to be themselves. Too scared of losing their position at the top, too scared to be different.” She smiled at me. “You? You’re being yourself.”
With those words, a series of mental images flashed through my mind—Carter, gripping my throat. Pressing his fingers into my thigh. Roughly kissing and touching me.
“What if there’s another side to me I keep hidden?” I whispered the words, hardly daring to say them aloud.
“Like what?” Lena stared at me, intrigued. I glanced around us, but nobody was close enough to overhear or pay any attention.
“A side I only discovered recently. I…” I swallowed nervously. “I think I like…umm. Kind of rough stuff. With a guy.”
Lena’s brows flew up, her eyes almost popping out of her head. “Totally not what I expected you to say.” She studied me. “Is this to do with Carter?”
I nodded slowly. “I know it doesn’t make sense. I…before I got to know you, last summer I had a thing with this guy, Ralph. We mostly just fooled around, never went too far. Just you know, hands.” I blushed, dropping my gaze to the floor. “I never got turned on. I was attracted to him, and he was good-looking, kind of Clark Kent vibes. I thought there was something wrong with me. Until Carter.”
“What does that mean? How does it relate to being rough? Raine, did he hurt you?”
“The first time he…he had his hand around my throat, it was like someone flicked a switch in me.” I clamped my mouth shut, unable to look at her, too afraid of what she would think.
“Flicked a switch how?”
My throat was so dry, and I could feel my cheeks burning. “I-I liked it. It turned me on. He turned me on. Please don’t judge me.”
“I would never judge you. So you like that kind of thing, so what?” My eyes met hers. Of course, she was so experienced that what was a big deal to me probably didn’t even register with her.