by Dawn Doyle
“Besides,” she continued, “it’s your eighteenth on Friday, and I’m throwing you a party, so you have to look scorching hot.” She turned around, her hands behind her back with a huge grin on her face.
My eyes widened when she held out the last thing I would be seen in. “No,” I rushed, shaking my head and holding my hands up while she nodded. “No fucking way.”
“Yes, Luca, yes. You didn’t think I would find this little beauty, did you?” She held it closer to her as though I were about to snatch it from her hands. “I bought this for you months ago, and it still has the tags on.”
I rushed her, trying to catch her off guard, but she spun around and ran to the other side of my bedroom, her footsteps quiet on the thick pile of my new light-grey carpet. The color reminded me of the eyes that haunted my dreams.
Lucian. I hadn’t seen him since that day at the beach, and I had no idea if he was even from the area. We’d moved house at the beginning of summer break, and I was due to start my new high school. After a weekend of unpacking, my mom and I decided to hit the beach for a day of relaxation. And…I’d almost died.
I would have if it weren’t for Lucian pulling me out of the water. My mom hadn’t seen me go under, so she was blissfully unaware I was fighting for my life. I was a strong swimmer, but that didn’t stop me from becoming tangled. I still remembered that smile, those dimples, those lips…
“It’ll look great on you, I promise,” Grace said, pulling me from my thoughts. “Your legs will look amazing in this, I swear.” She moved slowly toward me. “Just try it, okay? And if it doesn’t look good on you, then I’ll shut up.”
I gave her some serious side-eye when she slowly held out the black garment toward me. I took it from her and went into my bathroom. I looked into the long mirror opposite the door, next to the sink.
I held the tiny scrap up against me, and shuddered. It was shorter than the yellow tank I already had on! “Grace, this is way too short!” I yelled, wondering how the hell I was going to squeeze into it. It looked like it would fit a kindergartener.
“Oh, just try it,” she huffed. “It’s stretchy, Lu, it’s supposed to look small. Just put it on!”
“Bossy ass,” I mumbled. After taking off my leggings and tank and placed them on the lid of the toilet, I slipped the dress over my head and pulled it down my body. It barely covered my behind. Grace was right, though, it was gorgeous, but not something I would choose for myself.
The straps were wide enough to cover my bra, and the neckline plunged down right to the center. Again, Grace was right. It looked amazing and sure to turn heads. It fitted like a second skin, clinging to everything right down to where the hem stopped on my upper thigh. I turned around, double-checking that I was covered. I pulled my long hair over one shoulder, getting a good look at the slashed fabric at the back. A black bra would be disguised by the horizontal pieces, but I’d have to buy one, first. Instead, my white strap stood out against the dark material. My butt was covered, the scoop not too low that would expose my panties, but still ending in the curve of my spine.
“So, how does it fit?” Grace called through the door. “I wanna see.”
I opened the door and threw my hip to the side for effect. “Ta-da!”
Grace’s mouth fell open. “Shit, Lu, it’s perfect! You totally have to wear that on Friday.”
My pulse sped up just thinking about it. “I don’t know.” I looked down at myself. It was little much. I was turning eighteen, but my self-doubt got the better of me. “Do you think I’m showing too much?”
Grace gripped my arms and shook her head. “Your wear a two-piece to the beach, you wear shorts and a tank to the gym,” she argued. “This is covering way more than both of those outfits.”
I chewed on the inside of my cheek. “Yeah, but I’m not at risk of flashing everything with a single step.”
Grace threw her head back and laughed. “I was exactly the same when I was your age.”
“You’re not much older than I am.”
“I’m already nineteen and starting college in the fall. Give me this one chance to show you how to party, and I’ll say no more.” She stepped back and began to close the door. “I was kidding, too. You don’t have to wear the dress—it’s completely up to you, I just wanted to see your reaction when you saw yourself out of those jeans.”
The door closed, and I turned to look in the mirror. God, I hated Grace being right yet again. I could ditch the jeans for one night, couldn’t I?
Maybe I could wear them underneath?
I snorted a laugh. I could, but then I’d have Grace trying to persuade me take them off. It was better to just suck it up, and start my eighteenth off with a bang.
Chapter 2
Lucian
“Careful!” I spat as Brady checked the cuts across my shoulder-blades. “It still fucking hurts, asshole.” I’d been taken down roughly and slid across the floor. My skin was grazed in places, but there’d been some loose gravel, cutting into me.
“Oh, shut up, you big baby,” Brady countered. “They’re just scratches. I’ve seen you with worse.”
I growled at my brother. Yeah, I’d had worse, but that was beside the point. “It still stings like a bitch.”
Brady chuckled. “What about the other guy? Do you think he’s whining that his jaw was smashed and his eye socket probably needs pinning back together?” I rolled my eyes and stopped bitching. “Yeah, I thought as much.” Brady wiped my back with some swabs. “The poor bastard couldn’t talk when you’d finished with him—might not be able to see out of his left eye.” I groaned. Out of all the fights I’d been in, there were times I’d felt guilt smack me in the face when I’d fuck up the other person so bad, especially when I barely had to make any effort to do so. It seemed unfair, somehow, like he was purposely sent in to take a beating. “Hey, you better not feel guilty, Lucian. If he coulda, he woulda done the same to you, so put away your feelings and accept the win like a fucking champ.”
“I know,” I grumbled. Two thousand bucks. That’s what I’d walked away with once I’d been declared the winner. It was way too easy to get lost in the moment, standing there, ready for the other person’s attack, poised and ready to take them down at all costs. It felt like a fight for survival, not one out of anger and frustration.
The moment you lose you’re shit, you’re done.
Brady’s voice always ran through my head when I stood there, my wrists and knuckles bound, my opponent staring at me like they wanted to tear my head clean off my shoulders and shit down my neck. If I ever lost my temper, my focus would shift too much, and I could make stupid mistakes that would cost me the fight and, possibly, my life.
“Still not coming to Grace’s tonight?” Brady asked, breaking my thoughts. “Her cousin moved here a few weeks ago, and she’s throwing the party for her eighteenth.”
I groaned again. “I said no, damn it.” Brady put down the swab and I slipped on my t-shirt. “I’m not in the mood tonight.” I snorted a laugh. “I almost, almost changed my mind, but I’ve got other plans.” That was a lie, because my plans were firmly set for what I had going on.
Brady walked around to stand in front of me as I picked up the car keys. With a full tank of gas and a night to myself, I could take a ride in silence. “Plans without me?” he asked, raising a brow. “I thought you would’ve gotten over your sulk from, whatever the fuck it is, and just come with us. Beer, girls, relax…”
I deadpanned, then crossed my arms over my chest. “Music, the guys being there, talk about fights and cars… Brady, it’s the same shit every time. Aren’t you bored?”
Brady shook his head, narrowing his eyes at me. “We’re twenty years old,” he said, then threw his arms out. “Besides, you know why we go to all of the parties, bro. Witnesses and alibi’s.”
I pushed off the center island I’d been leaning against. “But we don’t need those for tonight.” I walked to the double fridge and took out a red can of Energy Plus, pulling
the ring back and flipping it over. I brought the metal to my lips, and let the ie-cold fizz fill my mouth before swallowing.
“Need the energy kick?” Brady asked with a snort. “I thought you wanted a night off? Why would you need that if you were chilling out?”
Gulp after gulp went down my throat, the bubbles working their way up the back of my nose. I screwed my face up when I couldn’t take any more, and reluctantly answered my brother. “Who says I was relaxing?” Brady waited for me to continue, and the longer he stared at me with those dark eyes, I could feel myself giving in. I didn’t want to drag him into what I was up to; it was better to be alone, but I guessed he should know in case he tried to call me. “I’m scouting.”
His brows shot up. “For girls?” I reached forward and slapped the side of his head. “Ow, what was that for?” He rubbed his head and scowled.
“Murphy’s got a fight, remember?” I shook my head. “He’s up against that shady opponent tonight, and I wanted to check him out. The only thing Larry would tell him is that he’s worth a huge cut, even just getting in the pit with him.”
Murphy Rand was a great fighter and had become a friend. More to me than the others, but he was a good guy. He’d agreed to this bout without hesitation. Something was off about it, and I’d warned him. It wasn’t a normal fight, we were told to stay away at all costs, but I couldn’t leave him to face an unknown on his own.
“Are you fucking crazy?” Brady yelled, then looked around when the door to the garage opened and our mom called our names, her heels clicking over tiled floor. “In here!” he yelled to her, then turned back to me. “What if someone sees you? He said he’d call us after to pick him up if he needs us.”
I got up to head out of the kitchen before Mom saw me. She didn’t need to see the shitty mood I was in or the cut above my right eye; she would only question me. My parents thought I was getting my bruises from a boxing club, but a lot of my injuries didn’t add up, so I had to keep them hidden.
“The whole point of going on my own. He’s not doing this alone, Brady.” I stopped just inside the living room and turned to add, “I can blend in by myself. I don’t need you guys getting caught.”
“But what about—”
“I got it covered,” I said, cutting him off, then continued on my way to my room.
I drove down the dirt path toward the old place. It had been saved from being demolished, but the new owner didn’t plan on refurbishing it—far from it. It was bought, then left, or so people were led to believe. I served as a front to the violent activities held behind the walls, then deserted until the next time.
I drove around the back of the building, making sure to switch off the lights, then cut the engine and let the car roll silently to a stop, staying close to the exit. I could hear the yells before I even got out, the steady thump of the chants vibrating through the floor under my feet.
I opened the door, and my ears were immediately assaulted by the roaring crowd. I locked the door, and headed over to the black doors at the back of the building. It was the alternative entrance for those into some shady dealings and the occasional blow job from one of the girls who leech onto the fighters and even the rich assholes who flash their wads of cash about. I’d been offered so many, and agreed to a few. But, usually, the last thing I wanted after a fight was some random woman with her lips around my dick when I just needed to get the fuck out of there and into a fucking ice bath to sooth the swelling.
The door opened quietly when I pulled on the small metal bar that ran vertically along the edge. The hinges must have been oiled, because a couple of days ago, it squeaked like a mother fucker. There was no way I was going through the front, not with Titan on the door. He got that name because he was a huge fucking monster. He was almost seven-feet tall and looked to be the same size around, making my six-two frame look tiny in comparison. The old battle scars on his face and oversized bald head showed years of fighting experience.
I walked down the long corridor, the shouts and chants getting louder as I neared the ancient farm animal auction pit.
The lights grew brighter as I walked out, dipping my hood-covered head and slumping my shoulders as I guided my way through the packed area. I weaved my way through, beer and wine dripping onto me, cigarette ash flicking down in front of my face, until I reached the circular rail that ran around the upper floor. I looked over into the pit, just in time to see the end result of the fight that started only five minutes before.
Murphy Rand was out cold on the floor, his arms spread wide and blood surrounding him. His face was swollen so bad, and his usual dark blond hair thick with blood and dirt, I wouldn’t have recognized him had I not known it was his fight. The other man cheered, his hands up, giving me good look at his blood soaked wraps, the once-white fabric with fresh crimson coating each one and dripping down from his curled fists.
Fuck.
Murphy had lost in the past—I knew that—but I’d never once seen anybody put him down like that.
He’s not moving. Get up, Murph, get up.
My hands twitched by my side as my pulse rocketed sky high. I clamped my mouth shut so I wouldn’t yell at him to get the fuck up.
The crowd continued to cheer while the fucking hulk of a man urged them on, roaring back and tensing his muscles so they stood out of his neck like they were going to tear through his skin.
“That was a vicious beat down,” a guy next to me said.
“Yeah. Luscious wouldn’t stand a chance against him.”
I bristled, my hands fisting by my sides. They made me sound like a pussy—a has-been at almost twenty-one—but I was determined to make them eat their words, and fucking choke on them whenever I got my turn with whoever that guy was.
I looked down in time to see two of the guards dragging Murphy out of the pit. His feet slid back and forth as though he was barely conscious, and I released a slow breath. I turned and left the building, my veins pumping with adrenaline and my hands desperate to be bound and ready. I had to wait, though. It wouldn’t be long, and I was going to take pleasure in taking every fucking cent.
Luca
This party was going to be my first chance at getting to know some of the people in town that didn’t go to my high school. Grace had lots of friends; some I’d spoken to over FaceTime when I’d called her or she’d called me. I’d even gotten to see one of her famous parties, right down to guys jumping into the pool fully clothed, beer and all. She’d assured me that was nothing, though, and I never saw anything like that afterward.
I looked at the dress again, hanging on my wooden-framed mirror. The white-wash gave it an antiqued look that matched my dresser. Then, I opened my closet and took out the tank and jeans I originally showed to Grace.
I was torn between them, loving how the dress made me feel kinda sexy and ready for adulthood, whereas the other was comfortable while still not being an overly conservative choice. Baring my arms and some of my cleavage was hardly risqué anyway, but I liked that I didn’t have to worry about things riding up, or falling out.
“Are you ready?” my mom asked through the small gap at my door. “It’s almost nine-thirty.”
“Yeah. Just deciding what to wear.”
My mom slowly opened the door and poked her head inside. “You’ve not chosen?” The reflection from the sparkles in my cream wallpaper shimmered across her cheek. The minute specks of glitter were barely noticeable until the sun shone against it or I turned on the lights.
I shook my head and pointed to the dress. “Grace likes that one, and it is gorgeous, but I think”—I pointed to my second choice—“maybe this one.”
My mom opened the door wider and walked in, sitting on my pale pink bed. She leaned against the white metal frame and pursed her lips in concentration. “Well, you could wear whatever you like, honey. I’d only object if you it showed the things you could get arrested for.”
“Mom,” I groaned, letting my head fall back. “I’m being serious.”
&
nbsp; “So am I ,” she countered, then straightened. She got up and walked over to the dress, inspecting it. “It’s a little short, but I bet it’s longer when you put it on.” I nodded in agreement. “Then, if you like it—wear it.” She ran her fingers over the fabric, then turned to me, gently holding my arms. “It’s your birthday, baby, and I want you to feel comfortable.” Her warm smile made me relax instantly.
I liked how my mom wasn’t so judgmental over my clothing choices. The only time she’d ever objected to what I wore, was when a shirt I’d thought was cute turned out to be quite see-through when I put it on. I had no idea and was about to walk out the door when she’d noticed. I was only fourteen at the time, and would’ve faced a world of embarrassment had I gone to school like that.
I looked back and forth between them, and made up my mind. “Time to get dressed.” My mom left the room and I took off my robe, threw it onto my bed, and got ready.
I’d just finished applying my nude gloss when my phone beeped. Looking at the screen, I saw Grace had sent me a message.
People have started to arrive! Hurry your perky ass up, Lu. The party doesn’t start until you get here!’
I texted my reply.
‘My ass and I will be there in twenty, jeez’
I didn’t get a chance to put my phone down before it beeped again.
‘Drinks are flowing, Lu. Don’t keep us waiting.’
My aunt Cora went out of town often, leaving Grace in charge of the house. I was surprised it was still standing.
“You look amazing,” my mom said when I got to the bottom of the stairs. “Your hair looks fantastic.”
I beamed. “Thanks, Mom.” I’d inherited my dad’s blonde hair, and my mom’s natural waves. I slipped my purse over my shoulder and hugged her tight. “Let’s go.”