Untamed (Untamed #1)

by Green, Victoria

“Quincy?”

  My sister pursed her lips. “Of course not! And Eric is in the clear, too. His father is the CEO of Truman Inc. They can’t risk a scandal.”

  “Since we are addressing you and Eric, Quincy, I think we should talk wedding dates.” My mother wanted to talk weddings? NOW?

  Quinn frowned. “Wedding dates? We’re getting married next June. We already sent out the save-the-date cards.”

  My mother looked over to my father. “Your wedding needs to be this November, not long after your father’s announcement. It would be best for the campaign if the family was publicly seen as being connected with the Trumans. Not just a fleeting engagement. A full commitment.”

  “But…but…” Quinn sputtered. “But…that’s only two months away! I can’t plan a wedding in only two months…and my dress, the venue, the caterers…” She was on the verge of tears. I almost felt bad for her. Almost.

  “Your father needs this, Quincy,” my mother said. “It is not up for discussion. We’ll hire several wedding coordinators to ensure everything gets done. And done well.”

  Looking shell-shocked, my sister nodded. “Right. I know. Of course.”

  “That settles it. Wonderful.” Eleanor moved on to me. “So, Reagan? Anything we should know about? Speak now or have the investigators drudge it up.” She smiled and winked.

  My father answered before I could open my mouth. “Reagan is fine.”

  “Yeah, peachy,” I said. Since you say so.

  “Yes, Reagan. The word is yes.” My mother sighed dramatically, which only made me want to say it again. “Mayor’s daughters do not talk like uneducated degenerates.”

  “Yes, Eleanor. I’m fine,” I said. “No arranged marriages in the works for me this year.”

  Red splotches colored Quinn’s cheeks. “At least someone loves me, Reagan. At least I behave like a respectable person, unlike you—”

  Marcus cleared his throat. “Why don’t we take a moment to let the news sink in, enjoy the lovely dinner Olivia has prepared, and go over some rules of conduct for the family?” He phrased all his requests like we actually had a choice in the matter.

  Quinn sat back and smiled smugly at Eric.

  “Stop scowling, Reagan.” My mother leaned over and clasped my hand in hers, clenching my fingers. “Smile.”

  My head pounded and my heart hurt, but I forced my lips into a smile and pretended everything was okay.

  As always.

  nine

  The moment the dinner was over, I jumped into my car and drove. I didn’t even stay for dessert. I needed to be as far away from my family as I could. My parents had tried to convince me to spend the night, but I couldn’t stomach the thought of staying. Every second I spent inside the walls of that apartment, being told that my future would be filled with even more rigid rules and control, a little piece of me cracked.

  “From now on, you all need to be extremely vigilant,” Marcus had said. “Today’s political campaigns rely heavily on video trackers—college students with cell phones who try to further their own political careers by catching the candidates and their family members in compromising positions or provoking them to say damaging things. You will be especially vulnerable at Columbia, Reagan. It’s vital that you stay alert and not get filmed doing or saying anything that could hurt your father’s reputation.”

  “That includes openly lobbying your idealistic, liberal philosophies,” my father said. “We must present a united front, and my views are the ones that count.” There had never been any democracy in our house, but at least I could think for myself when I walked out the door. Now they wanted me to curb that, too?

  Um, no.

  My foot pressed down on the gas pedal with so much force I was certain my Mercedes was literally going to take flight as I turned onto the parkway headed north. I wove in and out of traffic, trying to get out of the city. I didn’t know where I was going, I just knew I needed out.

  And speed. I needed speed.

  Of course, a speeding ticket was definitely against Marcus and Eleanor’s rules, but I didn’t care.

  By the time I turned onto 95, the throbbing in my head had grown in intensity. Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness? How hypocritical was it for a future mayor to limit those very rights for his own daughter?

  At dinner they’d discussed hiring permanent bodyguards for me, for god’s sake. Which meant they would know where I was every single second of the day. More so than they did now. No more escaping to La Période Bleue. No more partying wherever I pleased. No more guys who didn’t pass their scrutiny. No more semblance of a real life. Of any life.

  My fingers white-knuckled the steering wheel. It was the only thing that kept me grounded. Every so often, my eyes would dart to the passenger seat where my black purse rested. I needed something to take the edge off. A pill, two…maybe even three. Driving under the influence was also against the rules, but that was the fucking point. The anger burning in my veins made me want to break as many rules as I could. All I wanted was to shit all over my parents’ control and flush it down the toilet.

  Keeping my eyes on the road, I reached over to unzip my bag. I fumbled with the contents for several seconds but came up empty-handed. Damn it. Where the hell was that orange bottle? My gaze flicked to the glove compartment. Yes! I’d stuffed it in there before going to dinner since Quinn liked to snoop through my stuff.

  I pushed my foot down on the pedal and swerved around a car. Someone blasted their horn as I reached for the glove box. Another loud honk. My eyes flew back to the road. Tail lights were coming up way too fast, I swerved into the right lane.

  A horn went off to my right and I turned in time to see the car I was cutting off.

  Shit. Make that running off the road.

  By some miracle, our cars didn’t touch, but that was only because the other one jerked out of the way, onto the shoulder, and slammed into the guard rail before coming to a halt.

  I stomped on the brakes and pulled off the road.

  Oh god, oh god, OH GOD.

  What had I done?

  I needed to lose control. I wanted to be free. But not like this. Not at the price of someone else’s safety. Fucking hell. I was the world’s biggest cliché. I started shaking as I wrestled with my seatbelt. I had to get out. I had to make sure no one was hurt.

  As I jumped out of the car, the other driver descended on me, delivering a string of curses in a deep voice that would have scared the shit out of me if I hadn’t recognized it.

  “Are you fucking insane?” he said, drawing closer. “You were driving like a fucking lunatic. Did you even bother to look before changing lanes? You could’ve ki—Reagan?”

  “Dare?” He was stalking toward me. Dare. The guy I was still thinking about a week later. The guy whose touch I was unable to erase from my body and mind. I couldn’t believe my eyes, my ears.

  “Reagan. Holy fuck.” He searched my face, my body, then looked over at my car. “Are you okay?”

  “Am I okay? Your head is bleeding!”

  His fingers grazed the blood on his eyebrow. “It’s fine,” he said. “No airbag, so my forehead met the steering wheel, but it’s just a superficial cut.”

  “You could have a concussion!”

  “I’m okay.” Taking another step forward, he took hold of my shoulders and peered down at me. “Are you hurt?”

  “No, not hurt. Just…fucked up.” I looked down at my feet. The severity of the situation slammed into me. I could’ve killed someone. I could’ve killed Dare. “I’m sorry, Dare. I’m so, so sorry.”

  “What the hell were you doing?”

  It was a simple question. One that I had no answer for.

  Still refusing to meet his eyes, I whispered, “I’m so sorry. This is all my fault.” I chanced a hesitant peek up at him. “Are you going to call the police?” The thought of all the trouble I could be in scared the shit out of me. What the hell had I been thinking?

  Dare shook his head. “If neither of us
is hurt let’s leave the cops out of it.”

  “Are you going to sue me?”

  A small smile touched his lips. “Should I sue you, Reagan? Take you for everything you’ve got?” He leaned toward me, pinned me with his captivating gaze. “That’s not my style.”

  “It was my fault. And your car…” I looked over at it. “Shit.”

  “It looks like it’s just a blown tire and a couple of new dents. Not a big deal.” He exhaled and ran a hand through his hair. “But I don’t have a spare, so I need to call a tow truck.”

  “I’ll pay for it,” I said immediately. “And the repairs, of course.” I stared at his car. “This could’ve been so much worse.”

  “But it wasn’t. No point in dwelling on what-ifs.” He shook his head. “Ever. Shit happens. You get over it.”

  The air around us was thick with tension and the threat of an oncoming storm. His eyes heated, and I looked at his lips, instinctively licking my own. I wanted to touch him again. So very badly.

  This was insane. No one had ever affected me like this. I was suddenly so glad that I’d run him—of all people—off the road. How fucked up was that?

  “I’ll wait for the tow truck with you and give you a ride home,” I said, trying to shake off my crazy thoughts.

  Dare shook his head. “Actually, I’m not on my way home right now. There’s somewhere I need to go first.”

  “Oh, okay.” Right. He’d been driving away from Brooklyn. Which meant I couldn’t go back and crawl into bed with him. Which, actually, was a good thing. Because the last thing I needed was round two of that. Even if it was the thing I wanted most at that moment. I cleared my throat and shut out my thoughts. “Well, can I drive you to wherever you’re going? I owe you that much.”

  He hesitated, and I realized what an idiot I was being right now.

  A girl. Dare was going to see some girl.

  My stomach knotted at the thought of his mouth on hers, his hands gliding over her skin, his muscular body hovering above hers as he ravished her in the same, overwhelming way he’d consumed every inch of me. Never before had I given a thought to what any guy did after our hookup. In fact, I did everything in my power to avoid all of them. Yet here I was, offering to drive him around, so freaking happy to see him. NO WAY. I wasn’t the kind of girl who made a big deal out of a one-night stand. It meant nothing. Dare meant nothing.

  Forcing my mind to chill the fuck out, I said, “Or I can pay for a cab.”

  “No,” he said. “I’ll take the ride.”

  “Really?” His answer made me much happier than it should have. Than was safe.

  Dare smirked. “As long as you slow the fuck down.”

  ten

  Forty minutes of excessively cautious driving later, I pulled the car up in front of a rundown bungalow in Harrison, and shut off the engine. As if on cue, it began to pour.

  This was it. Dare was going to leave me for the girl inside.

  Heart, meet jealous pang.

  “Are you…uhh…sleeping over?” I asked quietly. None of your business, Reagan.

  “Here?” His eyebrows shot up. “I hadn’t planned on it. Not tonight.”

  “Will she give you a ride back?” God, could I be any more obvious?

  “Who?”

  “The girl you’re going to see,” I said, looking at the raindrops gathering on the windshield. My tone was even and nonchalant. As if I couldn’t care less. Inside, it was a whole other story.

  “She’s not a girl.” The leather seat groaned as Dare shifted his weight. “She’s a woman.”

  Of course she is. My eyes snapped up to find him smirking.

  “I won’t be too long,” he said, his voice lifting in amusement. “Do you mind hanging around for a bit?”

  “You want me to WAIT for you?”

  “You can wait for me or work for me.” He motioned to the backseat where he’d transferred what looked like a month’s supply of groceries from his car. “I could use some help carrying those in. Plus, that way I can make sure you get back to the city without—”

  “Yeah, yeah! I get it. My driving sucks.” I smacked his arm and laughed, for a brief moment forgetting that I was jealous of the woman inside. Dare had that effect on me. Even sitting in front of his girlfriend’s house. For every second of the forty minutes we’d spent driving here, he’d kept my mind so full of him that I hadn’t once thought about this evening’s events.

  We darted up the driveway, trying to shield the paper bags from the rain. Not very successfully. By the time we’d made it up to the porch, Dare’s four oversized bags and my two smaller ones were completely soaked through. He didn’t bother ringing the bell. Instead, he kicked the front door. “Hey! Open up!”

  A few beats later, the door swung open, revealing a teen girl in cut-off jean shorts and a loose, long sleeveless t-shirt with the words C’est la vie across the front. She was tall and extremely thin, with big hazel eyes that lit up at the sight of the bags in Dare’s arms.

  “Dare!” She threw her arms around his neck, nearly toppling the groceries out of his arms. “What took you so long?”

  “Someone tried to kill me.” His eyes met mine over her head and he winked.

  The girl pulled back, horror overtaking her pretty face. “For real? Is that why you have that cut above your eyebrow?”

  “Nah.” He shook his head and laughed. “You shouldn’t be so gullible, squirt.”

  “DARE!” She groaned, smacking his chest. Hard. “You shouldn’t say things like that! Especially considering—” Her eyes met mine and she bit down on her bottom lip. “Hey!” Her head tilted to the side, causing her dark, asymmetrical bob to look even more askew. “Who are you?”

  “Why don’t you help take some of these bags in and then we’ll do the whole introduction thing,” Dare said, moving past her into the hallway. “Is Dax here?”

  The girl nodded. “DAAAAX! Dare needs you to put away groceries!”

  “To HELP put away groceries.” He motioned for me to follow him into the kitchen where he proceeded to set down the bags on the counter. “I’m going to get the rest of the stuff from the car.” He shot the girl a warning look. “Don’t be a pain in the ass while I’m gone, Dalia.”

  Dalia. Interesting. And pretty.

  As soon as Dare left, she narrowed her eyes at me and grinned slyly, but before she could say anything, a dark-haired guy stomped into the room. Yes, stomped. All muscle and teen attitude.

  “Dare is here?” he asked, heading straight for the bags. “Did he get my protein shake?”

  “Dare and a girl,” Dalia said.

  “What girl?” He spun around. “Damn, girl!” And he was in front of me before I could even blink, trying to look cool. It was all I could do to not laugh. “What’s your name, baby?”

  “Not interested, Dax,” Dalia answered for me. “But seriously, who are you?”

  “I’m…” A friend? Not really. I had no label. “…just Reagan.”

  “Well, Just Reagan, I’m Dalia,” she said with a tiny wave of her hand.

  Dax took my hand and kissed it. Freaking kissed it. “And I’m Dax.” His voice dropped into a familiar, charming territory that reminded me so much of Dare. “Dalia’s less evil and much sexier twin brother.”

  “Don’t let that smile fool you, Reagan. They’re both equally evil,” Dare said as he came up behind me. “Where’s Mom?”

  “Sleeping,” Dalia said. “She had a double shift yesterday that turned into a triple. She’s barely been home in two days since she has to take the train to work now.”

  “What’s wrong with her car?”

  Dax scoffed. “You mean, this time? It needs a new alternator or something equally expensive.”

  “Why didn’t she tell me?”

  “You know Mom,” Dalia said with a shrug. “She knew you’d insist on giving her your ride even though you need it for work. She didn’t want to burden you.”

  Dax pulled out an apple and a banana and ate them both
at the same time, trading off with each bite. “Do you mind lending it to her?” he asked through a mouthful of fruit. “It would really help. Plus, you still have that piece of crap bike, right?”

  “He can’t transport his work stuff on a bike,” Dalia said.

  Dare inhaled sharply. “My car is in the shop.”

  And it would be for another week. The mechanic had said it was more than just the tire and he was going to need some parts.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll work something out,” he said.

  “I can just—” I started, but he shook his head at me.

  “I’ll work something out,” he repeated, his eyes on me. Turning back to the twins, he said, “Has Mom been okay otherwise?”

  “Yeah, I guess…” Dalia’s gaze shifted to me. “She’s still attending regular meetings.”

  Dare nodded. “Good. Is she eating?” Deep concern colored his voice, and I quietly cleared my throat to get rid of the bittersweet sting of emotion that had made its way through me.

  Dalia shrugged. “Yeah, when there’s food.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “What the hell does that mean? I stock the fridge weekly.”

  “Yeah, and have you seen Dax? His stupid football two-a-days have him eating for six!”

  As if on cue, Dax picked up another banana and asked, “Yo, did you get the protein shake I wanted?”

  “I did, Hulk,” Dare said. “Go easy on that crap, okay?”

  “Sure thing, big bro.”

  “And the Nutella?” Dalia rummaged through the bags.

  “It wasn’t on sale.” Seeing her shoulders sag, Dare said, “Next time. I promise.”

  “That’s what you said last week.”

  Dare rubbed his hand over his face. “Work has been slow lately. It’s always slow this time of year, but it’s going to pick up soon and then I’ll get you two jars, okay?”

  “Three!” she said.

  “And you say I eat a lot?” Dax laughed.

  “Daren?” A woman’s soft voice called down the hall. “Is that you?”

  Dare cursed. “We woke her. I’ll be right back.”

  “Daren?” I said. Somehow, it didn’t suit him.