Izzy Moffit's Road to Wonderland (Road to Wonderland Series Book 1)

by James, Victoria L.

  “It did?”

  “For fuck’s sake, Moffy. How many have you had?” Lori suddenly laughs, gripping my chin and forcing me to focus.

  “Umm…”

  “She’s barely touched anything,” my best friend says beside me, rolling her eyes as she reaches across the bar for her bottle of whatever.

  “Hey! It’s not my fault I’ve got a low tolerance for sanu… bamca... sa... Jesus, that word is tough.”

  “Sambuca, Moffy. Sam. Bu. Ca!” Alvarez giggles before releasing my face and leaning back against the bar.

  I lift a weak hand and widen my eyes with a smile. “That’s the one.”

  Both my friends burst into laughter around me. They’re used to seeing me this way. I’m always the first one down when it comes to drinking. I can handle most things, but shots of the hard stuff seem to send me into an instant spin, forcing me to acquire a disease I affectionately call ‘fat tongue’.

  I’m already half way there tonight, even though I’m trying as hard as I can not to fall at the first hurdle. This is probably going to be our last proper night out in Leeds together before our finals start and we all head home. The thought of leaving this lifestyle behind is more daunting than I ever thought it could be, especially since neither Paris nor I know exactly what awaits us at home.

  In the three years since Dan’s passing, Lily Hemsworth has moved on with a new man. It all happened quickly and the details of how, exactly, I’m not too familiar with. All I know is this: Paris is devastated and doesn’t want to go back to a house where her mum is playing happy families with someone other than her dad. Quite frankly, it doesn’t exactly appeal to me either, which is one of the reasons why I’ve invested what money Dandy left me in his will into a small apartment in Manchester central. It’s nothing fancy or flash, being a lot like our student room here, but it’s a start; a start of a life of independence and standing on my own two feet… a life of paying bills and working hard for a living.

  A life of being a grown up…

  “Holy shit!” Paris cries as some guy suddenly bumps into the back of her, sending her flying towards me. I lurch forward, trying desperately to catch her arms and help her regain some balance, and it almost works. Her ankle twists when I pull her back up and I hear the snap of her heel, even in the noisy din of the club.

  “You okay?” I shout as I grip her shoulders. I don’t have time to wait for her response before the guy who bumped into her turns to us both with cocaine-fuelled eyes and gets in my best friend’s space.

  “Watch where you’re fucking going, you little bitch,” he snarls, up close to her face.

  Paris shrugs me away, her back straightening in the quickest of movements as she goes toe to toe with him, her face set like stone as she takes him on. “I’m nobody's little bitch, dickhead. You just broke one of the heels of my favourite pair of shoes. Do you realise how much you’ve just messed up? You have approximately ten seconds to get the fuck out of my way before I take the other shoe off and place the remaining heel in an orifice that you probably haven’t had penetrated before. You understand me?” she growls at him.

  All I can do is stand behind her and watch their exchange. My temper is something I have to keep in check at all times. I’ve conditioned myself to try and rein it in, quite simply because I don’t want to end up being like my old man.

  Lori moves behind Paris in the thud of a heartbeat, her hand reaching up to rest on her shoulder as she towers above the little dweeb, leans forward and snaps her fingers in front of his face.

  “Earth to Coke-head Joe. You heard her. Apologise… then move it.”

  Paris, in her trade mark move, cocks her hip and folds her arms across her chest, giving the guy his final silent warning before she goes to town on his arse.

  The guy continues to swerve in front of all of us, his eyes flickering between Lori and Paris. He hasn’t even seen me yet. His vision is screwed as he tries to think of something witty to say and not show that he’s completely intimidated, and probably turned on, by two beautiful women who are threatening to deal with his sad self.

  “Fuck you,” he growls before spitting on the floor beside him.

  Everything seems to happen quickly then. Lori pushes him at the same time Paris goes to swing at his face, forcing her to miss him by a hair’s breadth and stumble backwards in an attempt to get out of Lori's way. There’s shoving all around, and the music gets completely drowned out by the cacophony of noise that surrounds me with shouting and abusive language.

  My arms are reaching out everywhere. I’m pulling Paris back behind me and telling her to calm the hell down, while Lori has somehow managed to get the guy on the floor and crouches over him with her fist raised back in the air. Other men are shouting for her to get off him. I want to make sure my best friend is alright over everything else, but I’m also aware that no matter how strong Lori thinks she is, realistically, she’s no match for this dude and all his mates if they decide to make an example of her.

  Spotting a guy from one of my classes beside me, I quickly grab hold of his arm and push Paris towards him. “Christian! Thank God. Watch Goose for me, will you? Some jerk has just knocked her and she’s shook up. I’ll be right back. I have to go get Lori.”

  “Sure thing, Moffy,” he says eagerly. Chris has always had a little thing for me, I’m sure of it, which comes in really handy right at this moment.

  Paris is just about to protest when I shove my finger in her face and glare, silently warning her to just zip it and do as she is told. Before I even have time to turn around, I hear Lori's frustrated scream cut through all the other panicked voices around me.

  “Alvarez!” I growl, turning on my heels quickly to see her still straddled over coke-head Joe, but this time there’s others in the picture.

  My stomach drops when I see two girls pulling and twisting on my friend’s long, black hair, in an attempt to get her off him.

  “Fuck, no,” I whisper under my breath before instinct takes over and the fire in my stomach makes me lunge forward. A desperate need to save her rips through me from the very top of my head to the very tips of my toes. Suddenly, I’m more alive than ever as the red mist starts to set in and completely takes over my vision.

  In one swift move, I drag the first girl back by both shoulders and spin her around as quickly as I can to disorientate her. Without much thought, I smash my right fist across her prissy little jaw and watch as she falls to the floor in a heap like she’s nothing. Her red hair falls over her face and I don’t even have time to wince or think about the god-awful sound her skull makes when it connects with the ground.

  Save Lori. Save Lori. Save Lori. Save Lori. Save Lori. Save Lori.

  The words repeat in my head like a motivational mantra. Forget everything else… Save Lori. She’d do the same for you.

  I stride over the red-head like she’s a worthless piece of meat that I couldn’t care less about, my eyes locked in on my next target. Lori has managed to get into a better crouching position with her knees and is currently trying to swing free from the little mean girl that is pulling on her hair like it’s a bungee cord.

  “Get the fuck off me,” she yells while still trying to deal with the guy she has trapped beneath her. One swing or anything from him and my friend is down. I can’t let that happen, and I’m not foolish enough to believe that this drug-fuelled idiot won’t do anything in his powers to remove her.

  All the energy I used to feel on those rare occasions when my father used to take me boxing with him come flooding back like a tsunami, tearing through my skin. I want to hurt this girl, badly. I want to hurt her so badly, all I can think about is all the different ways I can take her down from this angle. Even though my right hand is already throbbing from the first punch, the thought of causing her pain spurs me on and before I know it, I’m stood right beside her. I’m just about to give her the biggest uppercut of her life when her head flickers to mine once, twice, then a third time, the slow recognition of who I am s
howing on her face with the look of pure shock.

  My eyes search hers in a hurry as I try to place her. I want to rip her to shreds and ask her a million questions all at once. Hearing Lori's guttural, accented cry one more time snaps me out of my sudden daze and before I even have time to think about it, I grab the familiar girl’s hair, yank it back in the same tacky way she has done Lori's and I land my swollen right fist into her turned up nose with a quick, sharp jab.

  Lori is released in an instant, her body falling forward allowing her to get a grip on the guy beneath her and deal with him the way only she knows how to.

  “You bitch,” hisses the familiar girl as she stands in front of me on shaky legs, her hand cupped to her nose as the blood pours out in a hurry.

  My breathing is laboured and my chest heaves heavily as I take her in. I’m waiting for her to react or give me some answers as to who she is, but there’s nothing.

  “Unless you want another one of those, I’d grab your little friend and move the fuck along. I’m not in the mood for messing around.”

  “Isabella Moffit,” she spits out through gritted teeth, her eyes narrowing in pure hatred as she looks back at me with her perfectly made-up face, which has now been vandalised by my actions.

  Tensing my jaw, I copy her expression and just wait. So she knows my name… big deal. I’m not letting her know it bothers me. I refuse to let her see how pissed I am that she has the advantage of knowing who I really am, while I’m stood here trying to seem intimidating so this will end quickly. My poker face is strapped on and I’m refusing to let it go, even though the anger pumping through me is begging to be released some more.

  Lori shouts from the floor, “Someone grab a doorman. I’ve got this arsehole pinned and now he needs to leave.”

  A small part of me registers her safety, allowing me a brief moment of relief while I just stare down this girl in front of me.

  “You don’t remember me, do you?” she says as she drops her hold on her nose, turning the back of her hand around to press against it instead.

  “I can’t say I do, no. Now, about that fucking off you’re supposed to be doing…” My brow arches at her as the pulsing of my right hand cries for some attention. My first hit on the red head was perfect, but my second jab on this girl was too reactive and my fist was clenched all wrong. I’m pretty certain there’s a broken knuckle there somewhere.

  “I’m not going anywhere. Who the hell do you think you are?” she growls.

  I step closer and drop my face to the calmest expression I can manage as I widen both eyes and speak softly. “I’m the girl that’s just broken your nose while you acted like a five year-old child in a school playground and pulled on my friend’s hair. We can leave it there if you like, or I can be the girl that breaks your jaw, too.”

  Her sudden satanic laughter catches me off guard, causing me to flinch.

  “Just like your father,” she mocks, shaking her head in amusement.

  “Excuse me?” I manage to choke out.

  She takes a confident step forward, trying hard to sniff back the blood that trails down her face. “You heard me. You’re just like your father. When all else fails, beat up the mouthy women, right?”

  I'm winded. So winded I can’t do anything other than stare at her as I widen my nostrils and try my fucking damndest to stay calm.

  “Oh, it seems I’ve managed to hit you without having to throw a punch. A novel concept to you, I imagine. But then again, you are trash. I shouldn’t expect anything less than thuggish behaviour from the daughter of Terry Moffit.”

  I swallow as discreetly as I can, but the lump in my throat is so damn huge, it slides down about as smoothly as a golf ball passing through the eye of a needle. “I think you should leave,” I say through a choked voice.

  “Why? This just got interesting. It’s about time someone put you in your place. You’ve always thought you were better than everyone else, especially me.”

  I snort, my face creasing up in total bewilderment. “For me to think I was better than you would involve me knowing who the hell you are. Seeing as I don’t, I’m guessing we are done here.” Taking a deep breath, I manage to half turn myself away from her and close my eyes to regain some composure, in spite of the constant ringing in my head. But something forces me to take one last look at her face before leaving, and that’s when it hits me. Right about the same time she confirms who she actually is.

  “Oh, you know me. Granted, you know my boyfriend a lot better, but you definitely know me.” She smirks and waits for my reaction.

  “Katy Palmer,” I whisper to myself.

  Katy rolls her eyes and takes another step forward, her body pressed against my right shoulder as I turn my head to stare straight at her. No. This can’t be happening. She’s dyed her hair. She’s wearing far too much make-up. Way more than she ever used to at school, but shit, it’s definitely her. Now would be a good time to leave. Now would be a really good time to get the hell out of here. No good can come of this situation. So why aren’t I moving?

  “Soon to be Mrs Matthew Cooper, actually, but we can go with Katy for now. I’m feeling generous, in spite of the broken nose you’ve just gifted me.”

  “What the hell are you doing here?” I whisper as I stare her down. Katy didn’t come to Leeds University with Paris and me. The last I heard, her super rich family had sent her packing somewhere down south.

  She nods her head to the guy pinned beneath Lori, never letting her eyes leave mine, not once.

  “You know him?”

  “Cousin.”

  “Figures,” I say flatly, trying really hard not to snarl. My eyes flicker over her shoulder without any thought. I don’t even realise what I’m doing until she speaks again, her free hand flying up to grip my chin as tightly as she possibly can, yanking it closer to her face in a vice like grip.

  “Look all you want, Isabella. He isn’t here.”

  “Get the fuck off me, Katy,” I warn her. My fists are balled down by my side again and I can feel the rise of my chest as I try to calm myself down by any means necessary. As much as I want to rip in to this girl, she’s connected to Matt - Matt who I cared about and Matt who obviously loves her, if what she has just told me is true. This is his fiancée. I can’t hurt her again… I just can’t.

  “You don’t tell me what to do. You hear me? You may have got one cheap smack in, but that doesn’t mean you are in control here. We have some catching up to do. I’ve heard a lot about you these last few years.”

  Before I can even begin to answer her, I feel Paris beside me. I don’t have to hear her speak or even see her to know when she’s close by. My body reacts to her in a way I can’t describe.

  I don’t turn to acknowledge her presence. My eyes are glued to Katy’s and the venom that she is spouting is shaking me more than I care to admit. I have no idea who this girl is. Katy Palmer from school was nothing like this. A Grade A student, she walked around wearing cute little headbands, her skirt only a few inches above her knee, while the rest of us wore them like extra thick belts. She was from the wealthier side of town. Sure, there were rumours she had a rebellious side, but this… this is like a full one eighty spin and then some. My gut is telling me that she’s all talk, but something in her eyes is warning me off.

  “I don’t have anything to say to you,” I say as calmly as I can manage.

  “You don’t want to know how Matthew is.” Her head cocks to one side and that cocky looking smirk creeps across her face.

  “You’ve just told me you’re engaged, so I’m assuming he’s extremely happy and enjoying his life. That’s all I need to know.” My hand reaches up to hers as I grip her wrist as tightly as I can and clench my teeth together beneath her pressing fingers. “Now, I’m going to ask you one last time to get off me, Katy.”

  Closing the gap between us, she leans forward, sliding her cheek along mine before stopping just an inch away from my ear and whispering, “He told me he used you for over a year.
He wanted to be a better lover for me, so he took you to some dingy tree house in the woods and fucked you any way he could, just for practice. And you let him. You let him because you’re a worthless whore who could never get anyone like him any other way. You disgust me. You make me sick.”

  I close my eyes as tightly as I can as the words sink in, especially that one word. Whore. The same thing my father called me the day I left home. Nausea rumbles deep down inside. She knows about us; she knows about it all. I want to argue with her and tell her it wasn’t like that - that there were feelings there from both of us and he couldn’t have covered them up that well for so long, could he?

  Could he?

  The familiar sound of Paris floats through the air beside me, but I’m lost in my own thoughts. All I can hear is loud murmuring and the suffocating sound of the music. Male voices seem to come out of nowhere, ones that weren’t there before. I can hear banging, shouting, smashing of glasses and some other things I can’t even place. Katy’s grip never loosens as I just stand there, completely and utterly frozen on the outside whilst a raging inferno spreads wildly inside of me.

  Katy’s witch-like cackle snaps me out of my trance and my eyes fly open as she throws her head back and continues to mock me in public. Her cruel words echo around the room, despite all the noise. Paris is shouting over my shoulder, Lori has somehow managed to stand up, and the guy is nowhere to be seen. Everything suddenly seems to stand still and all I can focus on is Katy’s face. The blood around her nose has trickled around her mouth. It’s all over her fucking hands. The pain she should be in doesn’t seem to be bothering her one bit as she continues on her mission to humiliate me in front of all these people.

  “I’m warning you, Palmer,” Paris says in a totally non-threatening voice. My best friend is a hard arse, but she sounds about as scary as a My Little Pony.

  Lori moves to stand over Katy’s shoulder in a threatening stance, not needing to speak any words at all. She has no idea who Lori is. She doesn’t know the softer side she carries around with her. All Katy must see right now is dark, intimidating and nefarious, so why the hell she doesn’t look scared, I don't know.