by Lily White
Hillary’s voice dies away, and there’s a distinct tension in the air that I want to escape. Yet when I attempt to pull my arms from his grip, his fingers tighten, his body so still that it feels like I’m standing next to a ticking bomb about to explode.
“Oh, hey,” Hillary croons, stepping beside us. Her eyes flick to me with disgust before her expression changes entirely to look up at...hell if I know. It’s one of the twins.
“Are we leaving soon? I can’t wait to get you alone.”
Ezra...or Damon...stares over at her with a look on his face I can’t read. Whatever it is, I don’t like it. Judging by Hillary’s expression, neither does she.
Instead of answering her, he releases one of my arms but refuses to let go of the other. I’m escorted back into the ballroom, his predatory stride so fast that I can barely keep up.
Hillary and Kelly are struggling to keep up with us as well, their faces worried, their eyes cutting to me every time I glance back at them.
We reach the Inferno table, and all the guys look up wearing bored expressions. Damon...or Ezra...is the only one to push to his feet.
He rounds the table and stands close for his brother to whisper something to him.
I see anger flash across his face as well, those amber eyes flicking a quick glance at Hillary and Kelly before he takes my free hand and says nothing while leading me away from the table.
Trying to pull away is useless, my shoes skidding on the floor as he tugs me forward.
“Damn it. Stop,” I demand, yanking my hand free as he turns to face me.
“What are you doing?”
His lips twitch with humor, but then he steps closer in that way he has of stealing my personal space without any concern for what it does to me. His head dips down, and his eyes are level with mine.
I just want to scream because I have no fucking clue who I’m looking at.
“I’m taking you to dance.” His voice is gentle and teasing, as if what he was planning should have been obvious.
“Why? Shouldn’t you be dancing with your date?”
I hate the way the words snap off my tongue with so much burning jealousy I’m surprised he’s not scorched.
All he does in response is arch a brow, grab my shoulders and spin me in place enough that I can stare over at the table.
I have no idea what the other twin is saying to Hillary and Kelly, but he’s hovering over them in that threatening way of his, his words clipped and brutal if the tears running down their cheeks have anything to say for it.
When I attempt to turn away, he traps my shoulders to hold me in place, his chest pressing against my back as I watch his brother lead Hillary and Kelly away from the ballroom.
His lips press against my ear.
“Happy now?”
“No.”
Letting me go so I can turn back to him, he grins down at me.
“Are you going to dance with me or what?”
“What just happened?” I ask, even more frustrated than I was ten seconds ago.
“We got rid of our fake dates. Why?”
There’s humor in his answer, his eyes glimmering and warm.
“Fake dates?”
What is he talking about? It pisses me off when his shoulders shake with quiet laughter.
“Did you think we actually wanted to come with them?”
I’m sure he intended for that admission to make me feel better, but it’s just another example of the games they play.
Instead of comfort, I feel anger. And instead of feeling relief, my muscles tense with warning and suspicion.
“That’s not okay. Why would you do that to them? This is their prom, and you treated it like a game?”
Ezra...or Damon...winces, honest surprise flickering across his expression.
Fuck, I don’t even know who I’m talking to.
“Who are you?”
“Damon.”
So that means Ezra is escorting Hillary and Kelly out.
“And you were the one beneath the willow tree? Or were you the one in the room with me at Kyle’s house?”
A slow curl to his lips wipes away the concern in his expression.
“You figured that out?”
“Of course, I figured it out,” I snap. “And I’m not happy about it! Why are you two doing this to me?”
Lifting his hands in surrender, he backs away a step.
“I’m just taking you to dance.”
His eyes shoot past me, a cryptic grin rolling over his lips as heat impacts my back and another set of strong hands grip my shoulders.
“I’ve got her.”
“You don’t have me,” I argue, pulling away.
Spinning to face Ezra, I stare up at a blank expression.
Actually, not entirely blank, there is something rolling behind that amber stare.
“We should talk,” is all he says, his voice calm but still carrying a dangerous edge that runs cold fingers along my nape and down my spine.
“Why would you do that to them?”
It’s fucked up, right?
Hillary and Kelly have constantly been on me, saying things and doing things to make me feel horrible about myself. Yet here I am defending them.
Not their actions.
Not their words.
But their right not to be made a game by the twins.
Maybe by defending them, I’m really defending myself. Somehow it’s easier that way, but I’m not sure why.
Damon must have returned to the table because it’s only Ezra and me now.
Staring at him centers my attention, the ballroom fading away, the students gone. Even the music no longer infiltrates my mind as I become lost to an amber gaze that burns with all the thoughts I wish he’d tell me.
I don’t have to specify who them is. He knows my anger has everything to do with their fake dates.
“Do you know who’s been spreading the rumors about us at school? Do you know it was Hillary that made sure your mom found out?”
The corner of his lips quirk to see the obvious confusion on my face. “You didn’t know.”
“How-“
“She went to a teacher concerned about you being around me. That teacher apparently called your mom.”
That bitch.
I’d wondered how Mom knew.
Stepping closer to me, Ezra drops his head so he can whisper against my ear. He doesn’t touch me, though, just steals the space around me like it belongs to him.
“I told you I’d hurt anyone who says a word about us. And since I don’t beat up women, I found another way. She’s hurting, and she knows exactly why.”
It’s wrong to feel a small amount of satisfaction in what he’s done, and I should feel bad. But I don’t. Not if Hillary really was the person who managed to alert my mom.
How she even knew to do that, I don’t know. Then again, it’s not a secret that Mason and my families have this weird agreement.
“But how can that be true, about you intending to hurt them? You were planning to take them back to Gabriel’s tonight-“
“No I wasn’t. I was planning on them being bitches to you the first time they saw you, which was when I planned to tear them down and show them how little they mattered. Why do you think I was standing there? I watched you leave the room and saw them take off after you. I knew it would happen. Plus, now that Damon and I showed up with them, nobody is talking about you and me anymore. That may have also been part of my plan, and it worked.”
I barely hear his last words because I’m still stuck on something else he said. “You were watching me?”
“All night,” he admits. “I can’t stop watching you.”
“That’s a bit creepy.”
He laughs, the sound dark and haunting.
“Damon told you that you’re off limits. I’ve already claimed you.”
Which reminds me...
What Ezra and Damon did to Hillary and Kelly still doesn’t excuse them for playing a game against me.
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“I don’t like being played either,” I admit, my voice just as soft as his.
He turns his head to hear me better, and our mouths are so close, our eyes tangled in a moment that disturbs the butterflies in my stomach, causing them to swarm and flutter, a moving cloud of color that would be gorgeous against a clear blue sky.
When he doesn’t answer, I make my demand.
“If you want to continue this, you need to tell me the secret of telling you and Damon apart. I won’t be played anymore. Not like this.”
He blinks at that, humor dancing behind his eyes.
For a moment, I don’t think he’ll answer, but then he points to the left side of his neck.
“Do you see that?”
I study the skin he points to, but it’s clear of any mark or blemish. It’s just smooth, olive-toned skin, more golden from time spent in the sun.
“There’s nothing there.”
His grin curls more. “When you look at Damon next, you’ll know what I’m pointing at.”
A freckle, I guess.
Just like Mason said.
It must be so subtle that not many people have picked up on it.
“Feel better now?”
No. I’m still mad, but I’m getting better. I nod my head because it’s easier than standing here continuing this argument.
His hand brushes mine.
“Then come dance with me.”
I want to, but there are teachers and other school administrators. They’ll report back to my parents if I dance with anybody besides Mason. Especially if it’s the twins.
Sheepishly, I answer, “I can’t.”
“But it’s your prom.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
Anger rolls behind his eyes, but he doesn’t argue again. Instead, he glances above my head back to the Inferno table.
“Are you allowed to leave with Mason?”
My brows tug together. “Yes. Why?”
The slow smile of his is back, his eyes glimmering with wicked mischief. “Then we’ll leave here and dance somewhere else.”
“But Mason has a date.”
He lowers his head again so that we’re eye level, his shoulders so broad that he fills my vision.
Ezra consumes me somehow, and I barely even know him.
It’s what makes him dangerous.
This can never lead somewhere.
It can only be for fun.
Trapping my chin with his hand, he rubs the pad of his thumb over my lips. All I want to do is open my mouth so I can taste his skin.
Heat bursts behind his eyes like he knows exactly what I’m thinking.
“You let me take care of that. This is your prom. And I’m about to make damn sure you have a reason to remember it.”
Emily
To say it’s awkward being in the back of this limo is an epic understatement.
In truth, I’ve never felt so nervous and uncomfortable in my life, my fingers tapping slowly over my leg, the silence deafening as we all stare at each other without any ability to bridge this deep canyon of a gap.
On either side of me are Damon and Ezra. Four fit to a seat, so to the left of Damon is Shane, and on the seat facing us is Mason, Sawyer, Gabriel and Tanner. I’m the only girl in the limo.
The only one.
That fact is made even more evident by the way each of the Inferno boys stare at me (excluding the twins, of course, since they created this situation).
When it was decided it was time to leave, Milly Ferguson had her own ride because she’d met Mason at the dance, so she left on her own. The twins insisted I walk out with Mason as if we were happily continuing our date.
Shane and Sawyer packed their dates into the limo they’d shared to prom for them to go home, Gabriel and Tanner doing the same thing with theirs.
Jase and Taylor happened to like their dates and left with them in the limo they’d shared for prom.
And now, here I am with a knot in my throat and a boulder in my stomach as we’re being driven to Gabriel’s house for the after party.
I would feel better if Ivy and Ava were here, but they had to leave with their dates (not that they would have fit in this car even without them).
They’d both promised to meet me at the party tonight after running home and changing clothes, so at least I’ll have somebody I can trust showing up later.
Pursing my lips, I tap my fingers on my knee again, my eyes darting to anything except the boys staring back at me.
Unfortunately, Gabriel’s voice drags my attention to him when he breaks the awkward silence with a warning.
“You should have told Ivy to stay home tonight. She’s not welcome at my house. And she won’t like what happens when she gets there.”
I’m not sure why Gabe thinks he knows what I may have told Ivy, but it shows just how arrogant he is to make the assumption that I said anything at all.
Still, we also both know Ivy.
Everybody in this limo knows Ivy.
So I state the obvious.
“If I did tell her to stay away, do you really think she’d listen?”
The corner of his mouth twitches, something in his expression making me wonder about the war they have. Both make it very clear they hate each other, but they’re also insanely fixated.
It would be cute if what they did to each other wasn’t so awful.
“Good point,” he grumbles before shifting in his seat. “Whatever. If she shows, it’s her funeral.”
The car is doused in silence again, thick tension building, although I’m not sure why.
One particular stare is burning holes in my face, though, a pair of dark green eyes I wish would turn another direction.
Of all the Inferno boys, Tanner Caine is the worst. I swear, he was born without a heart, and had his soul surgically removed. Why every girl in school practically falls at his feet is beyond me.
Quickly glancing at him, I confirm his stare is locked to my face, his eyes hard with something he wants to say.
“Why are you even here?” he finally asks, contempt and disdain dripping from his voice. “I don’t remember inviting you.”
My entire body stiffens, and the hair on the back of my neck stands on end. I want to look away from him, but I can’t.
Despite how much I want to tell Tanner to fuck off, I can’t do that either. I’ve been so damn sheltered in my life that I’m not like Ivy, or even Ava. They have no problem saying what they think.
Although, I can’t really blame Tanner for the question. As one of Ivy’s best friends, I’ve never been welcome around these boys. If anything, I’m an opponent, so my presence here is disturbing for all of us.
Ezra must feel the discomfort rolling off me. His hand shifts to touch me, just his pinky finger tangling with mine. That amber stare slides Tanner’s direction, his rough voice filling the car.
“I invited her. Is there a problem?”
More tension drowns me as Tanner glares at Ezra. And while that look would destroy me where I sit, Ezra doesn’t appear bothered by it in the slightest.
Not liking the expression on Tanner’s face, I look away, my eyes colliding with Mason’s light blue stare that holds my gaze for just a second before dropping down to where Ezra’s pinky finger wraps with mine.
The corner of his mouth turns down into a scowl.
“Actually, I do have a problem with it,” Tanner says.
“Too fucking bad,” Damon answers. “I invited her, too.”
That makes Tanner laugh.
“Both of you? Ah, I get it.” He laughs again. “Jesus, Emily. I never pegged you for the type.”
My brows tug together when Mason smirks, his head turning so he can look out a window.
I turn as well to glance at Tanner.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
He’s still chuckling as he runs a hand through his hair and looks out the window beside him. “Nothing.”
Shane interrupts both of us.
; “Not that it matters. We’re finally at the house. Thank fuck. I’m sick of being crammed in with all of you.”
They all snort at that. But I agree with the sentiment. The ride to Gabriel’s house hasn’t been fun at all.
Breathing out a sigh of relief when we pull up to the front of his monstrosity of a mansion, I wait while the driver runs around to open the door. Tanner, Gabe, Sawyer and Mason slide out first.
Shane, impatient as ever, let’s himself out through the other door, and I’m left with just the twins, Ezra’s pinky stilled curled with mine.
Eventually he slides out, waits by the door to take my hand and help me to my feet, and then we both wait for Damon.
Surprised when they both grab my hands to walk on either side of me, I say nothing as we walk up the steps to the large porch and into the house.
There aren’t many people at the party yet.
Music rolls out of the main room into the foyer, and I attempt to walk in that direction. Ezra pulls me left down another hall instead, Damon’s hand releasing mine even though he continues following behind us.
“Where are we going?”
Ezra’s amber gaze catches mine, his mouth curling into a mischievous grin.
“To your prom.”
Confused by that, I follow silently, not familiar enough with Gabriel’s house to know where I’m being led.
After a few turns, we end up in a large solarium, the night sky filled with stars above our heads, the space around us sparsely filled with cozy sitting areas.
My heels click against the stone floor as Ezra leads me to the center of the room, music suddenly filling the space. I glance over my shoulder to see Damon near a stereo.
“What are you doing?” I ask as I turn back to Ezra. “This isn’t necessary.”
He grins, just the corners of his lips slightly tipping up.
“I think it is.”
With one tug, he pulls me to him, my free hand moving to his shoulder as I tip my head up.
“What if someone comes back here?”
Ezra begins leading me through steps to a slow song, something soulful that I’ve never heard before.
“Nobody is allowed in this wing of the house. It’s Gabe’s rule. So you have nothing to worry about.”
Surprised at how well Ezra dances, I find myself moving through the steps with him, our bodies pressed together as he spins us around. His hand slides to my lower back to tuck my body tighter against his.