by Lily White
“Is he here?”
She curses under her breath as she grabs the skirt of her blue gown to keep from tripping and runs over to the window. “Damn it. I was hoping he wouldn’t show.”
That’s bullshit and we both know it, but I say nothing. I know for a fact Ivy hasn’t spoken to Gabriel since the last party following our graduation from high school, but that doesn’t mean she hasn’t been watching the gossip feeds and news cycles for every little bit of information that’s come out about the Inferno.
They have become the most eligible bachelors following their return from Yale and establishment of their law firm. Ivy isn’t alone in picking through the information out there for any little scrap to be found about them. I do it, too.
Tanner and Gabe have the most articles and gossip pieces, but every once in a while, the others are spotted. I’d be a liar to claim my heart hasn’t hurt at the photos of the twins I’ve found.
“I wonder who his date is,” she muses just before her brows shoot up to see who climbs out of the limo after him.
“Shit. He didn’t bring one.”
No. Apparently he didn’t. But the face I watch emerge from that car doesn’t make this particular night any easier for me.
In many ways, Ezra is still the same, except he’s not an eighteen-year-old boy anymore.
The twins have finally filled out their frames and become the men I always knew they would.
Ezra pushes to his full height. He’s a little taller than Gabe, his dark hair slicked back and the dark suit he wears perfectly tailored to a set of broad shoulders. Just like prom, he wears black on black with no tie, no color at all except for what I know are the most gorgeous eyes on the planet.
In the ten years that I’ve spent traveling the world while everybody else attended college, and among the many men I dated or had fun with during the time I was staying in the countries where they lived, I never saw another set of eyes that could rival the beguiling amber stare of Ezra or Damon.
Ivy touches my chin and drags me away from my fascination just as Damon emerges from the limo.
“Your jaw was hanging open. Thought I’d help you out with that before you drool all over your pretty dress.”
My lips curl, my gaze sliding back to where the twins move away from the car with that predatory prowl I’ll never associate with anyone else.
“They’re gorgeous. What woman wouldn’t drool?”
“The ones who know they’re also psychopaths,” Ivy quips. “Or have you forgotten that?”
She taps her finger on the back of my right shoulder where a white scar cuts through my alabaster skin.
“They gave that to you, and it’s best you remember it.”
Opening my mouth to argue, I decide against it.
The twins didn’t intentionally hurt me, we all got caught up in the events of that night. And while they were cuffed and hauled away to jail, I was taken to a hospital for stitches.
Ivy’s expression falls, undoubtedly because she feels partially responsible.
“I should never have forced you to keep talking to them. So I guess it’s my fault, too.”
“We should have kept to our pact from high school to avoid them.”
She laughs.
“Yeah. That turned out so well, didn’t it? You got hurt. I was sent to a college I hated, and Ava is now with Mason. Who would have guessed any of it, right?”
Gabe and the twins stand on the large porch outside the front doors while another limo pulls up.
Once the waiting attendants open the door, Shane, Taylor, Jase and Sawyer emerge, all of them looking good enough to eat.
Mason is already here with his parents.
Unfortunately, I was forced to do brunch with his family and mine today, so we all arrived at the governor’s mansion at the same time.
If not for Ivy agreeing to show up early and get ready here, I’d be sitting in this room alone waiting for an announcement I’ve dreaded for years.
“Damn it. The entire Inferno is here tonight.”
“All except Tanner,” I answer. “I wonder where he is.”
“Probably off stealing candy from small children and kicking them when they cry.”
Laughter shakes my shoulders as Ivy walks back to the bathroom, and I watch the Inferno men enter the mansion.
“I mean it, Emily. Stay away from them tonight as much as possible. Those guys are nothing but trouble.”
She’s not wrong.
The Inferno is notorious for wrecking lives and strolling away from the problems they cause without thinking twice about the mess they leave behind.
Not that the twins left my life a mess. If anything, they opened a door for me I would never have opened myself.
I can’t say it was the best idea, especially given the rumors that spread through school about what I was doing with them. But by the time the senior class graduated and everyone left for college, I had a new lease on life, a boosted confidence that I held onto while traveling the world.
There was only that tiny piece of my heart they took with them that always hurt, and the few times Ezra attempted to reach out to me while he was at Yale, I’d struggled not to respond, knowing it was better I let him and Damon go like we promised would happen after high school was over.
The six weeks ended up being more like thirteen because we hadn’t thought about the weeks of summer they would still be in town before leaving.
Unfortunately, the entire experience was a constant rollercoaster between extreme highs and lows so volatile that I still have nightmares about what happened.
The problem with holding the leash of two rabid pit bulls is that you can’t always control them when their tempers flare and they set their sights on anyone they believe threatens you.
I always felt safe enough with them, though, at least until those final days when I didn’t.
“How do I look?”
Glancing over, I smile to see my bestie looking gorgeous as always.
“Do I really have to answer that? I’d hate for your ego to explode.”
“Bitch, please. When it comes to the egos that will be walking through this house tonight, mine is playing in the minor leagues.”
Her eyes scan me up and down.
“Aren’t you going to do more than that?”
Ivy wiggles her fingers at me as if that isn’t befitting a woman who’s getting engaged.
I look down at my black dress and shrug.
“It’s my funeral. Why should I look amazing for it? My mother’s lucky I’m not wearing jeans and a raggedy t-shirt for as excited as I am to be here tonight.”
Rolling her eyes, Ivy marches over with makeup in hand. She grabs my face, turning it this way and that before deciding only a small amount of lipstick is needed.
“You’d look beautiful regardless. Seriously, I’d happily murder a small family just to have your skin.”
“That’s totally not creepy at all.”
“Shut up and pucker for me.”
After smearing some color on my lips, she drops the makeup into her lap and sighs.
“I guess we should get down there before my parents pitch a fit.”
Why Governor Callahan insisted the party tonight be held at his house is a mystery.
It easily could have occurred at my house or Mason’s. But I will admit, the Governor’s mansion is the most luxurious of all of the choices, its old-world elegance rivaled only by Gabriel’s childhood home.
“Do we have to?”
Chuckling at my complaint, Ivy sets the makeup aside and pulls me to my feet as she stands.
“It’s one night. And then you get to be wild and crazy again for almost two years before the actual wedding. You’ll survive.”
“Fine,” I grumble and drag ass behind her because the last thing I want to do tonight is mingle and smile like I’m actually happy about this.
My mother’s voice whispers in my ear as we make our way out of Ivy’s old bedroom and down the long hall
.
You’re promised to Mason Strom.
You are to act with grace and decorum.
Mason calls the shots, and you’re to happily go along with them.
And always, always, remember to smile.
Years of this shit has led me to believe that the corners of my lips are held up by strings, ones my mother controls and can pull into a lovely expression anytime she damn well pleases.
I follow Ivy down the grand staircase into the back portion of the mansion, my shoulders rounded and posture straight because once we can be seen, we’re to be in character.
Our families would love nothing more than for Ivy and me to be brainless socialites like our mothers, but beneath our masks are the truth of us.
Ivy, while educated and much tougher than me, is a force to be reckoned with. And even though I’m not as agile or devious as her, I’m perfectly happy being a hidden wild child.
We all have our secrets, and mine is that I enjoy tasting the areas of life that most respectable people don’t discuss in polite society.
I think that’s why I enjoyed Europe so much. They were much more open when it comes to sex, their shoulders free of the American pearl-clutching and delicate sensibilities.
We’re heading toward the back doors when I remember I’ll need gallons of alcohol to make it through the night, but before I can grab Ivy to pull her to the bar, Paul Rollings steps up to start a conversation with her.
He’s the last person I want to talk to, so I take that as my cue to step away and go in search of something much stronger than the champagne being passed around on silver serving trays.
Smiling as I see a group of my parents’ friends, I head in the direction of the bar, only to have my arm grabbed as I pass a service hall.
I’m yanked right before I can turn to see who grabbed me, my back impacting a wall as I’m caged in place by a presence that still has the ability to weaken my knees.
Amber eyes stare down at me, that feral gaze even more beautiful than I remembered.
“Good to see you again, killer.” Ezra’s fingers softly brush over the exposed skin of my shoulder. “Miss me?”
How do you tell somebody they hold a piece of your heart?
What are the best words to admit that there’s a part of your soul missing that can only be filled by them?
How do you lie and tell them you haven’t missed them at all because the truth is far too painful?
“I may have thought about you once or twice,” I say with a grin, praying that he doesn’t hear the way my voice shakes to hold the rest of my thoughts inside.
Killer.
It was always Ezra’s nickname for me, while Damon was partial to calling me Red.
At my response, one corner of Ezra’s mouth curls enough for a dimple to indent his cheek, and when that amber stare dips down to my mouth, I lose the ability to breathe.
His head tilts just slightly to the side before dipping down to fill my vision. He always makes sure that all I can see is him whenever he’s close by.
“I missed you,” he whispers. “And you’ve been pissing me off for the last ten years. I think you should know that. I don’t appreciate being ignored.”
He runs the tip of his nose along my jaw, his scent seducing me, a dark spice weaved through masculine musk, the very feel of it forbidden.
Mouth against my ear, he says, “We have an engagement present for you. But we can’t give it to you yet. Meet us upstairs in an hour.”
I wonder if he can feel my pulse racing beneath my skin, or if he can hear the indecision that’s screaming in my head.
They always do this to me.
Always...
Although it’s Ezra that calls to me the most.
“You know I can’t,” I begin to argue, but he presses his thumb against my lips in a silent reminder of the past.
“You told us a long time ago you’d wear black for this night. And we promised you we’d make it all better.”
Amber eyes meet mine when he turns his head. “Don’t make us liars.”
My body trembles in memory of what we were doing when that particular promise was made. I feel sweaty and oh so deliciously dirty just thinking about it.
“Just like before?” I ask, my gaze tangling with his in a way that is far too dangerous.
He nods.
“Just for fun?”
Another nod.
Damn it, I shouldn’t be tempting myself with this.
My heart thumps once and then twice, each beat painful before he whispers the rest of a joke we often said in high school.
“Just this once.”
No.
I should say no.
Fuck! Why can’t my lips form that one simple syllable?
“Just this once,” I repeat, my voice breathless.
His grin widens before he presses a soft kiss to my temple.
“That’s my girl. We’ll see you in an hour.”
Ezra winks and steps away, and I watch helplessly as he prowls off to turn a corner and disappear into the main portion of the mansion.
My head falls back against the wall as I release the breath I’d been holding in my lungs.
Just this once, I promise myself.
Just for old time’s sake.
Ezra
“What did she say?”
Damon steps up next to me as I approach the grand staircase, his hands tucked casually in his pockets as we ascend the steps at the same speed.
Around us, people glance quickly our direction and away again, their curiosity and healthy fear of the infamous twin brothers apparent.
“What do you think she said? This is Emily we’re talking about.” I cut him a look. “Or have you forgotten how it is with us?”
Damon grins, his long-legged stride in perfect step with mine once we reach the second floor.
Several people nod and move out of our way as we walk to the room where we were told to wait for Tanner.
“I thought she might put up more of a fight than that.”
Grinning, I remember the way Emily fights. There’s more fire inside her than most people know.
“She will,” I say, my hand on the knob of the door, “which is why we’ll have to make sure she doesn’t have the chance to change her mind.”
Turning to look at my brother, I lift a brow.
“We made her a promise.”
Soft laughter shakes his chest.
“How will we keep her from running?”
Memories assault me, nights spent sweaty and mystified, a beautiful girl dancing when she was in a place where she was free to be herself.
“Cage her in. Just like old times.”
His grin matches mine as I open the door and walk inside to find six bored as fuck assholes waiting around for a shitshow we’ve known was coming for most of our lives.
I study Mason first and smirk at the way he’s crumpled in a wingback chair, his eyes closed and legs stretched out in front of him over the floor. A bottle of whiskey is loosely held in his fingers where he dangles it against the side of the chair.
Beside him, Jase, Sawyer and Shane are kicked back on a leather couch, their ties undone and collars unbuttoned. Only Shane looks up at me to tip his chin in silent greeting.
Down the line, Taylor and Gabriel also look like they have better places to be. As usual, Gabriel is standing by a makeshift bar pouring another drink.
“You steal those bottles, or what?” I ask laughing.
Gabe glances at me.
“It was either that or knock Mason the fuck out. The asshole won’t stop bitching about Ava.”
My shoulders shake with a bark of laughter.
“If you need someone to knock him out, I’m here.”
“Fuck off, Ezra,” Mason grumbles from his chair. “Ava won’t answer her phone. She’s pissed about this engagement.”
I’m not sure why. We’ve all known it would come to this since we were kids.
Although, I can’t exactly blame Ava f
or her anger. Not when the engagement has left me wanting to tear the world apart to stop it a few times myself.
This thing with Emily was never supposed to become what it has. It was meant to be fun. A joke more than anything. A few weeks seeing just how deeply imbedded her good girl act was.
I should have guessed that a girl with crimson hair had the personality to match, her fire burning so damn hot that you can’t help but be burned alive to see it.
Knowing a thing or two about that type of fire, I was enthralled by it, like a kid flicking my fingertips through the flames, singed but never scorched.
I won’t admit it to these dickheads, though. They’d have too much fun rubbing my nose in it.
Dropping my weight down onto a seat next to Damon, I run a hand through my hair.
“Can anybody remind me why we’re here? I have better things I can be doing.”
Mason tips the whiskey bottle to his lips, swallowing the liquid down with a few strong tugs with his stare locked on me. The liquor sloshes in the bottle when he drops it back down.
“To help me through this bullshit. Someone has to tackle my ass and make sure I’m out there pretending to give the first fuck about Emily Donahue when I should be at Ava’s house-“
“Not that,” I growl, pissed at how he always blames and insults Emily like this is something she wants. “Why the fuck are we in this room?”
Gabe’s voice is as calm and collected as ever.
“Tanner’s on his way with Luca now. We need to confront her about her father’s records. After that, I need to deal with Ivy.” He glances at me. “Did you set it up to get Emily away from Ivy so I can confront her?”
I hate this shit.
Hate the constant games.
“Yeah, I told her to meet me upstairs in an hour.”
Gabe nods at that, satisfied I know what the hell I’m doing for the time being.
“That easy, huh?” Mason taps the side of the whiskey bottle against his chair. “Such a fucking slut.”
At the first twitch of my body lunging forward, Damon slaps his palm against my chest and shoots me a look. He doesn’t need to say what we both are thinking. Not that we have to say much to each other. We’re mirror images in most things.
While Emily has never been more than fun for him, something I dragged him into years ago, for me it’s -