by L. J. Woods
Turning to Christian I try to give him a reassuring smile, “Thought you were a King.” My booms as loud as the music but anymore stalling and I’ll second-guess my decision. I’m trying my best to remind myself why I’m here, and it’s not for Damien or Christian. I’m here for Willow.
Flipping down the mirror on the passenger seat visor, I make sure I don’t look as tired as I feel. I don’t want these rich pricks thinking I’m weak. Letting my hair down from my bun, I wipe a finger under each eye. I can do this.
Christian parks at the top of the driveway like the supreme ruler he is. So even before my Docs hit the pavement, eyes are on us.
“Holy shit, she came … with Perez!”
“I heard she laughed when she did it.”
“We might be in for a show.”
Ignoring them, I’m marching towards the door, Christian beside me. We’re about to head inside, grand double staircase in view, but it looks like the predators are already out.
“No way, Medusa!” Lea comes between us and the door, a headband with sparkling jewels on her dark strands. She has a black coat over her shoulders, a dress with a white collar that makes her look like one of the twins from that Stephen King movie. “I know King didn’t invite you.”
Rolling my eyes, I try to move around her. “I’m not here for you, or him. I’m here for Willow.” But Georgina and the bitch with the pixie step beside her, arms crossed. Beth’s nearby, watching this all go down.
“Or are you here for new clothes?” Georgina asks with a smirk. I didn’t bother changing the shirt I had on earlier with more important things in my mind. “What happened, Rowland? Did King cut you off?”
“Is that why you’re here? You gonna get him for that?” Lea blinks, fuelling off her recovered power. “Run along, Ho-elle.”
My fists clench, and I don’t know if I can stop my arm from flying before Christian’s voice comes from behind me.
“Get out of the way, Lea.” He already sounds as tired of her bullshit as I am.
Her jaw hangs, glancing at Christian then back at me before she arches a thin eyebrow. She straightens her posture. “Failed to hook one King so you’re after another?”
“I’m sure that’s your path to success but Jo isn’t like that,” Christian eyes her up, speaking like a true King. “Move. Now.” I don’t need Christian taking up for me but while she’s stunned, I use that time to nudge her shoulder as I head through the doors.
I’m a mix of emotions standing in this foyer again. Students sit along the staircase, a popular rock song booming through the home. The golden chandelier above shakes with each thud.
“Go, Bella! Go, Bella!”
The mention of Nate’s sister makes me whip my head to the living room. Bella’s dancing in the middle and I’ll admit, the girl has moves. Jordan and Willow sit in front of her, egging her on. My sister has a glass of wine in one hand, Jordan with a beer. Jasper is nowhere in sight. Neither are any other freshmen.
While this confirms what I thought, I’m not sticking around to see the King. I have other plans.
“Looks like she’s alright,” Christian appears next to me and I finally get a chance to take in his full outfit. The green hoodie he’s wearing matches his eyes almost too perfectly and the blazer over it makes him look ready for a date. Wait, does he think this is a date?
“I’m gonna use the bathroom,” I say, running the key along my finger. “Then we can get my sister and get outta here.”
“What?” Christian takes my hand, pulling me towards the kitchen. “We just got here and you need to relax.”
A nudge makes me stumble before Lea’s in front of me, heading up the stairs. “I’m going to check on King.” She smirks when she looks over her shoulder and when I watch her go in the direction of his room, I feel a knife in my gut.
“I’m so relaxed.” Turning to Christian, I attempt to give him my best smile but the cringe on his face tells me it’s not working.
“You look worse than I do before a big game,” he smiles, pulling me towards the kitchen again. “C’mon. Have a drink with me.”
Fuck it. I could use it.
People slide out of Christian’s way as we head for the big table of booze and snacks in the large kitchen. He doesn’t even have to ask before someone hands him a cup.
“Bourbon, right?” he asks and someone hands him a bottle.
“Perez!” A boy in an ERA jersey comes between us. “You played awesome in the last game, my dude! Give me your pointers.”
When Christian hands me the cup he lowers his lids at whoever this is. “Do you mind?” he asks. “We’re having a conversation.” Christian tilts his head towards me before the boys’ eyes widen.
“Shit. Y-yeah. I’m sorry, man,” the boy says, grumbling to himself before he takes off. I can’t help but shake my head as I take a long sip of whiskey. Christian might try to be the good guy but he’s still a natural King.
He places his hands on my shoulders, the kitchen starting to empty around us. They’re strong and firm and when he starts kneading at my muscles a moan surprises me when it escapes my mouth. “Wow.” Closing my eyes, I relax in his massage. “That’s good.”
Christian chuckles, “My dad used to make me do this for him when he got back from a rough game. I thought we were spending quality time, but he just wanted a backrub. Wasn’t long before he shooed me away.”
“Relatable,” I nod, taking another sip. Each one doing its job to dull my senses bit by bit. “My old foster dad? He used to time us on who could clean the house the fastest. That kid would get dinner. The rest of us? Dog food.” There’s a crack in my shoulder when his thumb moves just right and a release shoots through to my spine. Rolling my neck from side to side it looks like I’ve been missing out. Christian knows what he’s doing.
“Really?” he asks.
I take another sip, craning my neck to look back at him and he looks cute with that wide-eyed look. “Nah, I’m kidding.” Christian’s easy to talk to. He doesn’t analyze what I’m saying, he isn’t a puzzle with his words. Makes it easy to crack a joke. Let my hair down. “He gave us a Twinkie.”
His hands stop on my shoulders, leaning forward so he can get a better look at me. “You’re joking, right?” Those eyes sparkle under the kitchen’s dimmed pot lights before a cute smirk comes across his face. “Alright, you got me.”
“Woah!”
When I turn my head to the entrance, Isaac’s walking in with a leopard print sweater, tight black jeans. His coils are as shiny as his face and I haven’t seen him without a stagger in weeks. Tonight is no different.
Christian’s hands drop from my shoulders and I feel him take a step back, cold air coming between us.
“Am I interrupting?” Isaac looks between us.
Christian comes beside me. “Nope. Just grabbing drinks. What’s up?” They give each other that stupid bro-hug before Isaac takes a bottle from the table.
He uncorks it, pulling it to his mouth before he says, “Does King know you guys are here? Together?”
BOOM!
The front doors swing open, Aunt Marion appearing in a long brown trench coat, red gloves to match her heels. “What has happened?” Students don’t seem to care as her hair whips around the foyer, eyes looking like they’re about to fall out of her head. “Damien? Where is Damien?”
“Shit.” Isaac takes a swig of the bottle before putting it back, wiping at his sweater. “See you guys later. I’m off to do damage control. He leaves us, approaching Marion and like a smooth salesman, leads her back out the door in a matter of seconds.
“I wonder what damage control entails?” Christian asks what I’m wondering but before anybody else gets the wrong idea, I put my glass down. “Thanks, but, about that bathroom break …”
“Right, Right.” Christian smooths a hand through the hair on the top of his head, cheeks red when he moves out of the way. “Don’t get into trouble.”
When I’m in the foyer, I take a glance in the l
iving room to check on Willow. It’s only a matter of time before she’s going to be livid with me for taking her home. With my hand on the railing, I ignore the comments of partygoers while I scan the room for my sister and her friends. But I don’t see her.
Walking over to the living room, she isn’t there either. Neither are her friends.
My head whips around, trying to spot her but I don’t.
Okay. Don’t panic.
Bella’s laugh comes from the doors leading to the outside patio. I only recognize it because I’ve been listening to it all evening. Moving towards the doors, the stone patio has heat lamps throughout, students in the pool like it’s the middle of June. Bella included. She’s sandwiched between two stocky guys from the team, giggling and chatting, but the possessive arm around her shoulder makes my jaw clench. I’m imagining one of those assholes with their arm around Willow and it only fuels my anger … and worry.
Bella spots me, eyes widening before she smiles, playing it off. Without waiting for Christian, I march over. This might be her world, but all this? It’s new to Willow. It’s new to me, and if I’m drowning I won’t pull my sister with me.
“Where is she?” I demand, all eyes on me as I try not to slip on the wet stone.
“Hey, Medusa,” the guy next to her greets. He has a smirk on his olive face, brown eyes following the outline of my frame. “I’d invite you to join in, but I’m worried you might drown us all.”
This. Cocky. Asshole. “Excuse m—”
“She’s fine, Jo,” Bella cuts in, pushing the guy on his wet bare chest.
“That doesn’t answer my question.” I ignore him, not wanting to make this any more embarrassing for Nate’s sister, although she doesn’t look it. Not one bit.
“I don’t know where she is,” Bella’s catching an attitude, rolling her eyes. “She’s not here.”
My fists clench. I’m annoyed as she is. “Bella, I don’t have time for this.”
Christian’s hand comes to my shoulder, Bella’s lips growing into a wide grin when she sees a Supreme beside me. “Bella, sweetie,” he says, relaxed and calm. “Do you have any idea where Willow is?”
Bella looks up at him, giving me a cut of her eye before smiling his way. Tossing her long hair behind her brown shoulder, she glances away when she answers, “She went upstairs with Jasper.”
“She what?” The words leave my mouth and before she has a chance to continue, I’m swivelling on my Docs and heading for the stairs. Christian’s words become a distant mumble behind me, Bella’s sentence ringing in my ears.
There’s only one reason you go “upstairs” during a party. I’m back in the house in seconds, my boots thudding up the staircase, the glares and whispers nonexistent as visions of my sister and Jasper come to my head. She’s not as tall as I am. Not as strong either. I saw the guy she’s with. She’s no match.
I’m gripping to the rails when Luca’s face comes to my head. It morphs into Zane’s and my legs become wobbly. If that asshole lays a hand on my sister, I’ll become the murderer they all think I am.
“Willow!”
I’m opening every door on my parade around the second floor and I don’t care who I walk in on. Stopping at Sebastien’s office, I keep going. This can wait. My little sister is much more important.
C’mon, don’t be a tease.
Luca’s words ring loud in my head and the more I imagine Willow in that position, the quicker I am. There’s a door at the end of the second-floor hallway, the last one to open and I’m hoping this is where she is. It’s cracked, nothing but darkness coming out of it.
“Willow?” I call her name when I push it open but I’m greeted by a set of stairs going up. I follow it, reaching the top and pushing another door open before I step foot onto a rooftop. King’s rooftop.
I didn’t even know this place had a rooftop patio. But, of course, it does.
The stars and moon seem brighter from where I’m standing and I’m a little in awe at the surroundings. The sound of trickling water comes from a nearby fountain. Expensive outdoor benches sit positioned around a dead fireplace. A couple of working heat lamps between. It’s small, but impressive, the front yard in view. Almost romantic.
“Let’s head back to the party.” A voice comes from behind a brick wall at the end of the rooftop. One I’d recognize that voice anywhere.
“Willow?”
“I like staying here with you …” Making my way over to the voices, the other one is raspy and deep. “Why don’t you show me that bikini?”
Peeking around the wall that seems to be part of a chimney, this douche-head pulls on my sister’s arm, her body slamming against his chest. He has a faux-hawk dyed with golden tips, dark eyes and an angular face. “Jasper, I—”
“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you,” he says, his voice low and husky. “Why don’t you show me what you’re hiding under that gorgeous outfit?”
Dickface.
I round the corner, “How about I show you my foot up your ass?”
“Jo?” Willow gasps, pulling away but he holds onto her, bushy brows lowering. There’s a bottle of wine at his feet, a gleaming pair of Adidas. She tries to explain, “We were just—”
“It’s none of her business what we were just doing,” he cuts her off, rising against the brick. He eyes me with disgust, a lip curled to his nose.
“Leave her the fuck alone, you perv.” I’m not scared of him. Not scared of any of them. Especially not when my sister’s involved. “She’s fourteen!”
He pulls her behind him, her body pulled against the wall, “What are you gonna do about it, Medusa? Kill me? Like you killed Mr. King?” Jasper takes a step closer to me but he’s much less menacing than Damien.
“Wanna try me?”
“Maybe I do!” His hands come to my chest and I underestimated him. He’s strong enough to make me stumble back until my ass hits the stone. “Back off!”
“Jasper, stop!” Willow calls. She runs up to him but he pushes her back and that’s when I rise to my feet.
“Fuck you!” I lunge at him but he grabs my arm with a grip tighter than a constrictor snake.
“I knew Grove girls would have a bite,” he smirks, straight teeth I want to punch. “Don’t worry, I’ll take a two-for-one.”
“What the fuck is this?” Damien’s rolling voice surprises me, sending a shock rumbling to my core.
When I turn towards him, those glossy, sunken eyes move between the three of us. They lock on me, the colour in his eyes faded before they move to Jasper.
A whiff of peppermint and whiskey tickles my nose before …
CRACK!
Jasper’s head whips to his right, spit and blood flying out as his grip loosens.
“Get the fuck out!” Damien’s large splayed hands come to Jasper’s chest. Jasper tumbles but before he falls, Damien catches him by the collar of his douchey dress shirt.
While the guys face-off, I lunge for Willow like a flash of lightning. I don’t know what she’s on, or how much she’s had to drink, but she can hardly stand. “Jo?” she murmurs. There’s blood on her forehead, must’ve hit it in the fall.
“K-King?” Jasper stammers, and when I look over, he has fear in those beady eyes, all courage drained from his body. He holds his hands over his face like he knows what’s coming next.
Damien takes another swing, Jasper pleading, “Wait! Stop!”
Willow covers her eyes on the other side of the boys. I’m enjoying seeing this asshole get what he deserves but Damien doesn’t look like he’s letting up anytime soon. Jasper groans with every punch to his body but he’s not fighting back when I call, “Damien!”
We don’t need another death. Or murder.
My shoulders drop when he stops his fist midswing. Unclenching Jasper from his hold, the boy drops to the ground with a thud, his body limp. “You have five seconds to get the fuck out of here, Hawthrone. One.”
Jasper can barely move when he starts dragging his sorry ass to the
door, Damien watching as he does. He glances back at us, “You good?” His black jeans sit cuffed at his ankles, nothing under that leather jacket except smooth, rippled abs. That’s when I see him stagger and I know he’s not as sober as I am, but he’s being … nice. In a brutal, beatdown kind of way. He didn’t have to intervene but he did. Looks like he does still care after all.
“Jo?” Christian opens the door before Jasper gets there and when I glance back at Damien, his face is stone cold. Looks like he’s piecing something else together.
Christian stops in his tracks, looking at the debris from the action. He’s about to say something but Damien spits first, his words a slur, voice low and growling, “Get the fuck out.” With his jaw clenched, his chiselled features look mesmerizing in the moonlight, even with how mad he looks.
Christian protests, “Dude, what did you do?”
My heart races, lifting my sister off the concrete. “You, Jasper and his shithead brother. Get the fuck out! Matter fact …” He turns to us, my sister close to my side. “You get the fuck out too, Medusa.”
“Don’t worry,” I say, the little hope I had fading. “We’re leaving.”
Moving around him, the smell of whiskey and weed comes with it, Christian helping me with Willow, taking her from under my arm. He cradles her in his hold as we head downstairs, Damien’s voice ringing from behind us, “Tell everyone to get the fuck out!”
The music stops by the time Christian and I get to his car but Damien’s demands still bellow. And it’s fucking effective. As Christian closes the doors, students scramble out of the house. Some look confused, others don’t look fazed at all.
The key in my pocket will have to wait, I rather not bear the King’s wrath. But I’m not giving up on finding out what happened to Mom and Dad. Murmurs and chatter grow around the front lawn, students getting into their glamorous cars and driving away.
When I look back at the main entrance, Damien leans against the second-floor railing, eyes on us. He’s twirling the coin in his hand but he drops it, spinning to a fall over the rail. He reaches for it, hair flopping over and it looks like he’s really going for it.