Toxic Creek (The Allstars Series Book 1)

by KC Kean

  A high cabinet divides the living room from the dining area, where a twelve-seat sleek wooden dining set sits, and the high-tech kitchen is all laid out on the other side of it. Is that divider filled with bottles and bottles of alcohol? Yes, please.

  This place is ultra modern, yet it almost feels like no one lives here. It’s too damn clean.

  “Top of the stairs, third door on your right,” Stevens calls out, reminding me where I’m supposed to be going, and I offer a weak smile before following his instruction as he points in the direction I should go.

  Wrapping my arms around myself, I notice Richard is nowhere to be seen, but there is a lot of noise coming from outside, yet I don’t see anyone.

  Taking the glass panel stairs, I reach the top and count three doors down. With slow steps, I come to a stop outside of a wooden door and push it open with the tip of my finger.

  The door doesn’t make a single creak as I push it wide and slowly step inside. I gulp at the room before me. A four-poster bed is centered on the wall beside me, looking straight out of another full glass wall, which leads onto a balcony with its own patio set and sun loungers.

  What the fuck even is this place?

  We have never lived outside of our means, even when we have lived in gated communities, but this is next-level wealthy.

  Moving farther into the room, I notice the left door leads into a walk-in closet, while a door to the right leads into a bathroom. Walking out onto the balcony, I gaze out at the beach and take a deep breath. Why am I in a luxurious house, against my will, without my mom? I can’t figure out what any of this means.

  And why the hell do I feel so fucking numb to it all? I should be kicking and screaming, freaking out at a minimum. Not accepting my future without question, just like my parents seemed to do.

  The memory of my father sends a direct shock of pain straight to my heart, and I remember what I need to do.

  Laughter pulls my attention down to the beach, and I watch as a large group of people joke around, making their way up to this house. Probably fifteen or twenty of them, almost like a football team with groupies hanging off their every word.

  Not wanting to draw attention to myself, I turn to head back inside, but not before freezing in place as I take in the rugged god hovering at the back of the group. His thick brown hair is swept off his face, and even with his black aviators covering his eyes, I can feel them burning my skin, scrutinizing me. In nothing but a short pair of navy swim shorts, he looks like he slays demons with his fucking tanned abs.

  Shaking off the hold he has on me, I slide the glass door shut behind me. I did not come here to feel some asshole’s judgment from afar.

  I was forced here, and my focus has to be on finding answers.

  5

  Eden

  I don’t know how long I lie on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, but the sun is slowly starting to hit the horizon when I finally lift myself, mentally pulling myself together.

  I haven’t left the room since I arrived. Stevens had quickly brought up all the things my mother had packed for me, but it remained exactly where he left it. He offered me food too, except I can’t even stomach the idea of eating right now.

  Unpacking would mean giving in, and my brain just can’t process the defeat just yet. Even if I want to dig through my belongings to check that my favorite photo of my dad and me is in there.

  I need to get my headphones in, my sneakers on, and go for a run. It’s the one thing that always helps me put things in perspective, and if there is anything I need right now, it’s some damn perspective.

  Since I’m already in my yoga pants, I take off my hoodie, thankful for the sports bra I’d thrown on this morning. Slipping my sneakers on, I find my purse sitting on top of my luggage. Grabbing my wireless earphones and Ray-Ban’s, I head downstairs.

  Nerves kick in as I step out to leave, worrying I’ll bump into someone, but there isn’t anyone in the wide-open space again. I can see the group from earlier relaxing by the pool area through the glass wall, so I sneak out of the front door before anyone sees me.

  With “DJ Turn It Up” by Yellow Claw pounding in my ears, I take off down the path running by the side of the house, which slopes down to the beach.

  As much as the water calls to me, I stick to the edge of the beach, away from the water, and start jogging alongside the houses. With the heat beating down on me and the pounding of my feet in the sand, I get lost in the rhythm.

  The music is drowned out by the memory of the fear and panic in my mom’s voice earlier today. How was that even today? She has always been the strongest person I know, so to see her like that devastates me. But it also puts into perspective what we are up against. Something bad.

  I haven’t been able to ask a single question yet, so I’m no closer to getting any answers, but my gut tells me it won’t be that simple anyway. I know it’s naïve of me to expect everything to happen all at once, but I don’t know what else to do.

  She believed me being here would keep the peace, seemingly to buy us some time to get out of this shit that I don’t truly understand. But if that’s what it takes, that’s what I’ll do. Someone has to pay for what happened to my dad.

  My footsteps slow as I reach the end of the beach, my eyes fixed on the house that sits like a museum at the end. It’s easily the biggest house on the row, and the way it sits on the edge of the cliff only adds to its grandeur.

  It looks like the ultimate mansion you’d see in magazines. Ultra sleek and modern, with a wooden set of steps leading down to the beach, which looks almost out of place.

  Turning back in the direction I just came, the house doesn’t look that far away, but it’s over half a mile, with the time it took me to get here with the sand under my feet. Heading back, I decide to run along the water's edge this time so that I can pick up speed with the slightly smoother surface underneath me.

  Nearing the house, I think this little route will suit me well in the mornings, but I would have to do some research to find better trails and longer distances.

  Fuck. That sounded a hell of a lot like me settling in.

  Bracing my hands on my hips, I look out at the ocean, finally giving in to its pull. I should have brought a bottle of water with me, my mouth is bone-dry, but I didn’t want to intrude. Especially when it seemed Richard was very reluctant to have me here.

  Feeling the sweat trickle down my back and gather along my hairline, I turn to head back inside. Taking the slope, I slip back in the front door and instantly pause as a guy waves at me from the kitchen area.

  Forcing myself to remove my earphones, I offer the smallest smile, grateful he isn’t the intense Adonis from earlier.

  “Hey, Eden, right?” he asks, strolling over to me casually with an easy going vibe about him.

  “Right,” I answer, scanning his eyes for any ulterior motive, but he seems completely relaxed and at ease.

  “I’m Archie, and this is my house.” Stopping in front of me, he leans on the banister.

  Ah, shit. If he has an issue with me being here, then join the club.

  “I didn’t know that,” I offer, trying to rein in my bitchiness.

  His blue eyes flicker down, indicating for me to follow his gaze, and I see him holding out a bottle of ice-cold water.

  “I saw you take off for a run without any liquid. It’s important to stay hydrated, you know.” His tone is teasing and warm all at once, and it has me a little off-kilter.

  “Thanks,” I finally respond, taking the drink from his outstretched hand. “Does anyone else live here?”

  “Just my dad. He mentioned we were having someone stay with us. Are you excited to start school?”

  Archie’s attempt at polite conversation has me relaxing a little and dropping my defensive instincts. His blond hair is messy, like he was born to surf, but his build is bigger than average, making me inclined to think he plays sports. His biceps bulge under his short-sleeved white T-shirt as he raises an eyebrow at me, wa
iting for a response.

  Opting to ignore his question until I get an answer for myself, I try to plaster a soft smile on my face, attempting to make myself look approachable and nice, I guess.

  “Uh, do you know why I’m here?” I ask, causing a crinkle to form between his eyes.

  “No… Should I?” he asks, rubbing the back of his neck nervously, and I shake my head.

  “I don’t know anything, to be honest. My life is a little upside down right now, and I’m trying to figure out which way is up,” I answer honestly, without giving him the in-depth sorrows of my life.

  “You want to come and join us?” he offers, pointing over his shoulder to the group hanging by the pool, but I’m shaking my head before he’s even finished his sentence.

  “No, thanks. The alcohol I’d be game for, the socializing, not so much.”

  “I get it, new girl in a new town. It’s all good. I’m about to order pizzas before the rest of the crowd gets here. I’m the party king, just FYI. You want me to order you a pizza too? I can bring it up to your room if you’re going to be hiding out.”

  It’s weird how he’s simply stating facts without calling me out or being shitty because I don’t want to join him and his friends.

  “That would be awesome, thanks. I’ll literally go for any pizza, just no pineapple, that’s weird.”

  Placing his hand on his heart, he acts wounded by my words. “You break my heart, Eden. Pineapple on pizza is god level.” My eyes widen as I snicker at his theatrics.

  “That’s gross, Archie. So gross.” I shiver, and he laughs wholeheartedly in response.

  “Fine, no pineapple. If I was to slip you some alcohol from the infamous wall, what would you appreciate?” he asks, waving his hand to the divider behind him. “And don’t break my heart again with your bad life choices.” He grins, and I refrain from rolling my eyes at him.

  “Literally anything as long as it comes with a sealed lid. No roofies for me,” I answer, and he smiles with approval.

  “Your wish is my command.” Bowing before me, I shake my head at him.

  “Are you always this crazy?”

  “Like you wouldn’t believe. Don’t you worry, Eden, I’ve got your back.” He winks, and it feels strange to be in a guy’s company without him pawing at me. There is something about Archie that makes him feel like a lighthouse guiding me home as I’m lost at sea.

  “Archie, let’s go, man,” someone calls out, interrupting our conversation, and I turn to the open glass doors to find the smoking hot broody guy from earlier. His glasses still remain in place, yet I can feel his intensity from here.

  “Run before the big bad wolf gets you.” Archie chuckles at me, indicating the guy who holds my attention, clearly feeling the same vibes as I am before heading in his direction. “I’ll bring everything up when it gets here,” he calls out over his shoulder.

  Archie bypasses the guy, who remains still, staring me down without saying a word. Feeling my skin heat under his gaze, I force myself to place one foot in front of the other and march up the stairs.

  I can’t explain the vibes he’s giving off. He’s intense for sure, but there is something in me desperate to get closer, to see if the pull gets stronger.

  As I get to the top, I can’t stop myself from glancing over my shoulder, but he’s gone. God, he’s intense. He has a totally different spectrum of personality traits compared to Archie. I can feel it in the air. I mean, who stares someone down without at least offering a hello or a smile? But damn, I’m all hot and sticky for completely different reasons now.

  Mystery guy can feature in my dirty imagination anytime he likes.

  Stepping into my room, I shut the door behind me, eyeing the luggage that still waits for me. How likely am I to find the sex toys Lou-Lou bought me for Christmas? I mean, I don’t want my mom to have seen them, but I know a good orgasm will calm me right now.

  Ah, fuck it. Let’s find out.

  Yep.

  My mom either threw my old sneaker box, containing my gizmos and gadgets, into the car without looking inside, or she knows I’m currently an underage sex-fiend for the next six weeks. I’m praying it’s not the latter. There is already enough drama in our life.

  Finding my happy ending didn’t take long at all, and after I washed my hair, I decided to move all the luggage to the adjoining walk-in closet, which was almost the size of the damn bedroom itself.

  I may have pulled out an outfit or two, some clean underwear, and my toiletries, but other than that, everything remained where it was. Except for my toys, of course, which found themselves a nice little home inside my bedside table.

  Sex has always been a ‘take control’ kind of action for me. I can’t control very much of my life, but I can control that. It’s not a surprise I have trust and commitment issues, which is why I don’t do repeats.

  When I was fifteen, we lived much farther north, and I finally gave in to my boyfriend at the time, letting him dick me in the back of his car. After taking my virginity, he ghosted, and two days later, we were suddenly leaving for White River.

  We’d met in high school and had dated for nearly ten months, but when he turned seventeen, he suddenly changed, acting like a total asshole. I was already into partying, so with some persistent pressure, I’d given in.

  He might have ruined me afterward, putting me off committing myself to one person, but I got the taste of my first orgasm, and there was no looking back. Even if it was mixed in with the pain and burn of my virginity being taken.

  My badass fifteen-year-old self made a pact, and I’ve stuck with it ever since. Making sure I don’t get hurt, which feels like the best decision, especially since I’m now dealing with the pain of my father’s death. I don’t need anybody else to worry about as well.

  Squeals draw my attention as the partiers below have the time of their lives. If we were back in White River, I would be down there with them. Maybe I will join eventually, but today isn’t that day. Getting lost in the music and a hot body, while alcohol zings through your blood, is the perfect kind of night for me.

  Nursing the bottle of spiced rum that Archie brought up earlier with my pepperoni pizza, I watch as a few of the girls strip down to nothing and jump in the pool, earning themselves a round of whistles from some of the guys.

  I tried playing my own music, but it was instantly drowned out by the music coming from downstairs, and I didn’t want to sit with my earphones in. So instead, I’m sitting, watching life pass me by with a definite buzz from the alcohol, wishing for my mom to return one of my calls.

  I glance at her last message again, trying not to get annoyed.

  Mom: I’m safe, Eden. Don’t worry about me. Focus on yourself. We will figure all of this out in time. I’m going to be driving for a while, so I will try and call in the morning. I love you.

  I don’t want to talk in the morning. I want to talk now. But screw me, right? Just force me to pack up and move to an unknown town, with nowhere near enough fucking answers, while feeding me small snippets of texts.

  Sighing, I stand from the lounge chair and stretch my arms above my head. I can feel myself getting bitter and I know I shouldn’t, but I’m fucking mad and I can’t get over it.

  Gulping down another mouthful of rum, I look out to the ocean, the moonlight bouncing off the water.

  If my dad could see me—

  Nope. No. I’m not going there. Why the hell isn’t this rum fucking working? Growling, I take another big sip and place the bottle on the table beside me, letting it burn my throat as I strum my fingers on the railing.

  I feel antsy.

  Maybe I should go down to the party, find a willing guy, and fuck my night away. That might even help me sleep too.

  “What has you mad?”

  I startle, whirling around to find Mr. Broody himself standing in my room where my glass doors are open.

  “What are you doing in my room?” I counter, but he doesn’t even raise his eyebrow at me as he waits for me
to answer his question.

  I don’t know whether the rum just kicked up a notch or if I’m intoxicated by him as well.

  He’s finally taken his glasses off, and his hazel eyes sparkle in the moonlight. His square jaw and chiseled cheekbones have me almost ready to cream my pants. My tongue feels glued to the roof of my mouth as I spot a scar running down the side of his right ear. I want to lick it, and every inch of his olive skin.

  This guy is eye candy from a distance, but up close, he’s hot as sin. In his skinny denim jeans with a black muscle fit T-shirt, he shouldn’t look this good.

  Finally finding my voice, I respond, “What doesn’t have me mad is more the question.”

  I can’t stop myself from instinctively trying to straighten my messy bun, like my body is trying to impress him, even when my brain doesn’t want to. Clearing my throat, I straighten my shoulders and brush down the oversized T-shirt that reaches my knees, suddenly remembering I have nothing else on.

  “Can I help you?”

  His eyes take in every inch of me, my curves hidden by my T-shirt, but my pert nipples give me away.

  “What’s your name?” he asks, not answering my question again, and I shrug.

  “I won’t be here long enough for it to matter,” I murmur, and his eyes flicker with heat, liking my answer.

  “Right answer, Nafas,” he mutters, standing beside me but staring down at the party below. “Why haven’t you joined the party?”

  “What does that mean? Nafas?” I ask, and the smallest grin graces his lips as he keeps his eyes trained away from me.

  “You won’t be here long enough for it to matter.”

  Touché.

  “What has you up here bothering me, instead of down there with a groupie hanging off your every word? Because let me tell you, I do not have the temperament to put you up on a pedestal right now.” I can feel his big dick energy from here, and he needs to know I have no interest in pumping his ego.