Every year, we hated each other a bit more.
Every year, her disappointment meant less and less to me.
After all, you could only fail someone and be condemned for it so many times before you stopped trying completely.
The Ice Queen tilted her head back farther, eyes skating across me. “You are not leaving the house dressed like that, young lady.”
“Like what?” I asked with a venomous grin, doing a tight turn on my strappy heels.
I had on a variation of my usual uniform. It was part of my piss off Mom and Dad attire.
My black dress was form-fitting and meant for clubs more than college classes. It hugged my hips and ass perfectly, and the front had enough support to where I didn’t even need a bra.
Fine, that was a lie.
I pretty much always needed a bra, but I knew going without would piss off the Ice Queen so much more.
Speaking of…
Her lips had thinned into a line so small they almost disappeared.
“You look like some kind of whore,” she spat.
“Aww,” I cooed, hitting her with a thumbs up. “You noticed. I'm glad my effort didn't go to waste.”
For a moment, I wondered if she would believe me if I told her I had only been with one guy.
In the next moment, I remembered it wouldn't matter.
To her, and Dad the Warden, one was too much.
But letting myself become the pawn they had tried to force me to be would've meant an arranged marriage to some small dicked prick who spent more time getting his hair done than I did.
No thanks.
Besides, who bought cars before test driving them these days?
“You are coming dangerously close to overstepping,” she hissed. “I will not continue to tolerate you disrespecting the family name.”
My phone buzzed inside my backpack and I hitched it up higher on my shoulder, rolling my eyes.
I didn’t have time for this.
“What else do you think you can do?” I asked genuinely, foot tapping. “You took my credit cards, and the car, and my allowance. When are you going to realize that I’ll never be under your thumb?”
Her nostrils flared. “This is your last warning. Bring embarrassment to this family again and-“
Tossing blue hair over my shoulder, I turned and walked out the door to another sunny day.
I was done being threatened.
Done doing anything other than what I wanted to do whenever I wanted to do it.
My life.
My terms.
Deal with it, bitch.
***
I worked my way quickly around campus, headed straight for the colorful gardens where I knew my best friend would be waiting for me.
Sure enough, Lizzy sat on a stone bench covered in shade while her jean-clad legs swung back and forth. Her waterfall of golden hair fell to her hips, almost hanging from the bench behind her. She was staring up into the trees, oblivious to my presence.
That was normal for her.
The slight frown between her blonde brows wasn’t, and the sight of it had my nails digging into the meat of my palms.
This past summer, she had a close encounter of the worst kind with our resident biker gang, the Seven Sinners.
Sweet, angelic Lizzy who got upset with people that hurt insects had been at the wrong place at the wrong time and wound up with a front-row seat for a man being killed.
Like, dead.
Dead, dead.
And I knew—I freaking knew—whether she would admit it or not, that something inside of her had changed after the incident.
Because why else would she be convinced that Texas, one of the founding Sinners and the cold-blooded killer in question, was the man she was meant to be with?
Why else would she be frowning into the sky about him not being around, instead of jumping for joy?
“Make room, tramp,” I said, sliding down beside her onto the bench.
“Tramp?” she asked with a pout, even as she made room for me.
“Last I checked, only one of us has gotten dry humped on a street corner. If the shoe fits…”
Lizzy smiled and I swear some of the birds above us chose that moment to start chirping. It was very princess-esque. “You’re going to make me regret telling you that for the rest of my life, aren’t you?”
“Possibly. Or at least until you come to your senses.”
“And what senses might those be?”
“Just look around.” I waved a hand from side to side, indicating the campus and the people walking to and from. “There’s a cornucopia of hot guys out there who would walk on glass to be with you.”
She shook her head, hair shimmering in waves. “I don’t want them.”
“But they want you. We didn’t even make it through orientation without someone trying to take you on a date.”
Lizzy stood in a rush, grabbing the bag beside her. “We’re going to be late.” She started walking hurriedly towards the class buildings, leaving me to jog to catch up to her.
We strolled side by side for a moment, and I stared at the side of her face while she ignored me. Her eyes cut towards me when I started making silly faces and rude gestures, but she said nothing.
Finally, I pulled her to a stop right before she pushed through the doors into the building. “You know I’m only bringing this up because I love you, right?”
Lizzy huffed, but a small grin broke free. “I know, Kay. But I don’t need you to keep pointing out to me how crazy and stupid and dangerous this could be. I know, okay?”
“It’s just-“
“It’s just nothing,” she said, cutting me off. I blinked because I wasn’t sure she had ever done that before. “You don’t understand, and I can’t even try to explain it to you because it doesn’t make sense. But not making sense doesn't change anything. I'm his. There's nothing else to it.”
I stared at this girl I had known for most of a decade, a hundred statements frozen on my tongue.
He's a killer and a savage.
Do you think he's somewhere saving himself for you the same way you're doing?
I don't want that life for you.
But I didn't say any of those things because emotion I wasn't expecting to feel was holding my voice hostage.
Jealousy reared its ugly head, stabbing me in the chest with a knife.
She was so damn sure in that moment.
Sure in a way I couldn’t say I had ever been about anything.
And I wanted that.
I wanted that kind of solid ground beneath me instead of the shaky, uneven mess my parents had left me on.
Lizzy threw herself around me and I caught her. “It'll be alright,” she told me softly. I wasn’t sure if she was reading what was on my face or talking about herself, but her confidence bolstered mine. “I promise.”
“What, no hug for me?”
We both turned at the same time, flipping off Gibson Turner. He was cute enough in a surfer boy way with his floppy hair and easy grin, but he was too aware of it.
And he’d been trying to get in my pants for like, three years. He lost points for failing to take a hint. Thankfully, he was harmless and funny enough to make up for it.
We headed into the building and up the stairs with him trailing right along with us. Professor Crane was shuffling papers at the front of the class when we walked in, and the greying, older man made a point of clearing his throat.
“Tardiness this early in the year,” he said, adjusting his bow tie with disapproval. “Let’s try not to make this a habit, ladies.”
Being the nicest amongst us, Lizzy made apologies with a smile that had him struggling to maintain his glare.
The three of us scaled the staggered tiers and took a seat towards the back while the rest of the conversations started dying down. I sat in the middle with Lizzy on my right and Gibson on my left. He made it a point to scoot his chair closer to mine and I elbowed Lizzy when she snickered.
; Professor Crane glanced at his watch and then shut the door before coming to stand in the middle of the room.
“Well then,” he started, clapping his hands together. “Most of you already know me since I was here when your parents were students. But for those who don’t, my name is-“
The door flew open with force, slamming against the exposed brick wall behind it with a loud crack that had everyone jumping in surprise.
I stared in shock as the hottest guy I had ever seen in real life came strolling into the room.
From the corner of my eye, I could see the professor opening his mouth, cheeks flushing before he snapped it closed and went ghost pale.
Uh-oh, some part of my brain whispered.
But Hot Guy was standing at the front of the class, and my attention was drawn helplessly back to him.
He was our age...but not. He looked like he had seen the whole world and what it had to offer, and decided he wasn’t impressed.
He wore weathered black boots that had seen better days, and the holes in his jeans seemed a product of hard use rather than designer.
There was a wrench gripped tightly in his hand, and though it was incredibly out of place I must admit it did absolutely wonderful things for the long, tattoo-covered arms spilling from his black shirt.
He had the build of a swimmer, tall and lean with muscle that lent itself to speed instead of force.
Then I made my way up to eyes like dark thunderclouds that were currently scanning each row of students one by one, and my heart skipped several beats at once.
I must’ve made a sound, because that intense, grey stare snapped to me, pinning me in place.
Pink lips moved, forming a word I couldn’t hear before the corner of one lip curled in a smirk worth burning every set of panties I owned.
He took a step in my direction, and besides Lizzy who was glancing back and forth between us, I’m almost positive that every girl in the room got wet enough to stain themselves.
Or maybe that’s just me.
Hot Guy didn’t bother with the walkway on either side. He marched his way straight up the middle like he owned the damn place, forcing desks and chairs out of his way. Occupied or not.
He stopped right in front of me. I looked up, breathless, taking in the silver piercings going up and down both ears and the line of them across his brow. His jet-black hair was longer on the top and slicked straight back.
I gasped when his eyes finally left mine, sucking in much-needed oxygen while his focus went to the boy beside me.
“Hey, Rain,” Gibson said, shifting in his seat. The way the chair creaked sounded painfully loud in the middle of this moment Hot Guy—Rain?—had so easily captured. “How’s it going, man?”
The wrench came into view in slow motion. Gibson swallowed, looking uneasy.
“Is this happening right now?” I asked aloud.
No one answered.
Rain softly tapped the wrench on Gibson’s desk, and despite being bigger, Gibson shrunk back and away.
“Get the fuck away from her,” Rain said, and I decided instantly that the woman who had spawned and named this man before me was either a genius or a psychic.
His voice matched his name perfectly.
It came into existence, sudden and unstoppable.
I pressed my thighs together, trying to ignore the burning at my center.
He looked ready to paint that wrench red while Gibson hustled out of the seat and to the side of the room.
Running would’ve been a good idea. Calling the police would’ve possibly been a better one.
Instead, I did nothing while he claimed the now empty seat beside me, resting the wrench on the ground.
Actually, I did do one thing.
I berated myself for not handling Lizzy with a hazmat suit. Whatever she had was obviously contagious.
It was the only explanation for why watching him spread his legs and get comfortable made me want to crawl into his lap.
It was the only explanation for why his fingers looked perfectly sized to link with mine.
It was the only explanation for why those thundercloud eyes locking on mine made something inside me stand up and decide I wanted that view forever.
“Continue,” he said, voice raised. He was still looking at me.
The sound of the professor reluctantly going on with his introduction allowed me to rip my gaze away.
But the damage was done.
Oh, God. Now I’m losing it too.
Chapter 3 - Rain
Absolute. Fucking. Perfection.
I was staring. Hard.
And I was making a scene.
I told myself several times throughout the weekend that I was going to reach deep—real deep—and find the calm, rational individual buried inside me come Monday morning.
Then Monday arrived.
I was calm.
I was cool.
Yeah, I spent a little more time than I wanted on Sylvia’s Jeep when she brought it by before the crack of dawn, but she was like family.
A bit of impatience was no big deal when it came to someone who was basically a sister to me.
Right?
Then I got here late.
Spotted some grinning prick pressed all up on the siren I couldn’t get out of my head.
Yeah, I made a fucking scene.
I would do it again, if he didn’t keep his goddamn eyes where they belonged instead of on what was mine.
“Stop doing that,” a voice whispered beside me. Sweet. Calming. Irresistible.
I stopped staring daggers at Gibson’s fidgeting form and whipped my head around. She was pretending to face the front and listen to the lecture, but I could feel her focus on me. My blood burned inside my veins at the sight of her. Capturing that tiny, pointed chin and bringing those blood red lips towards my own was an urge so strong I had to form fists to keep it from becoming reality.
“Stop what?” I asked on a low rumble, leaning closer to her. She smelled like blueberries. Given the hair, I was starting to sense a theme.
“Stop growling at Gibson,” she said quietly. “He’s harmless.”
Was I?
Wait.
Who gives a fuck?
I stormed in here with a wrench in one hand and my attitude in the other, and she was worried about me staring down Gibson Fucking Turner?
“Who is he to you?”
“He’s-”
“Depending on your answer, Pixie, he might lose a few teeth. Think carefully.”
She blinked long lashes, stunned by my admission as I was. But she wasn’t looking at me yet. “Does this usually work for you? I’m thinking you might need to find another tree to piss on.”
“What if I told you I’ve already found a tree that I like.”
I flicked a lock of her bright blue hair.
Because I could.
Because my fingers were aching to touch the soft strands and I wasn’t in the habit of denying myself.
Eyes the deep brown of a mountain’s peak cut my direction and triumph had me smirking. “In that case,” she said. “I would tell you that might be the single worst line I’ve ever heard in my life. You’re comparing me to a tree. That’s the best you can do?”
“Trust me. The best I can do damn sure isn’t appropriate for an audience.”
She blushed and turned away, and I heard a choked laugh start and stop on the other side of her. Some distant part of me remembered Creed’s order. The blonde was the one I was supposed to be here for. This one meant nothing to my brother.
But she meant a hell of a lot to me.
I could tell myself I was being crazy all I wanted to, and I probably was.
Yet if heading to Crazy Town meant having the girl sitting before me on the back of my bike, in my bed, and in my life?
Then it looked like I was about to sign up for a one-way trip.
She glanced at me again. “Are you going to introduce yourself at some point? Or is this your gig? I bet it’s a gig.
You probably choose a random class every semester and do this big, dramatic thing for whatever girl catches your eye first.” Her eyes found the front of the room. “Is Crane in on it? Is that why he let you barge in here?”
“No one lets me do shit.”
I thought about throwing her over my shoulder. Dragging her out of here kicking and screaming to prove a point. Except that was a good way to get the cops called. They held no real authority in this town, but it was more attention than I wanted.
Something told me having the Sinners circling like vultures would be counterproductive.
“And I don’t need a gig,” I continued, tapping my finger on the desk. “My reputation precedes me.”
“If you say so, tough guy. I’ve never heard of you.”
This little...
“Me neither,” said the blonde, head appearing on the other side of Pixie’s with a quick wink. “I’m Lizzy, by the way. And the smart-mouthed harpy beside me is Kayla.”
Mine.
“Wow,” Kayla said. “Sabotage much?”
Lizzy put a hand to her chest, eyes wide. She faked a gasp and everything. “Sabotage? Me? I would never. Although I do think I’ll speed this along some since I’m such a good friend.”
“What are you talking about?”
Lizzy stood suddenly, hand above her head.
“If you embarrass me, I swear to God-“
I could only watch in amusement while Lizzy waved her hand in the air, forcing a reluctant Crane to acknowledge her.
“Yes, Ms. Randolph. You have a question?”
She offered him a bright grin and rocked back on her heels. “May I use the restroom?”
He sighed, looking for a moment like he seriously regretted his career choice. “This isn’t high school. You can leave whenever you like without asking for my permission.”
“Great. Thanks.” Lizzy turned, and there was something devious on her face when she looked at Kayla. “I’ve always wanted to be someone’s fairy godmother.”
In the next breath, she was off like a shot, practically skipping from the room with one last wave.
About a minute afterwards, her swift disappearance made sense.
The fire alarm rang.
Loud. Shrill. Piercing.
Seats emptied and the room soon after.
Rain Page 2