Destroy Me (Crystal Gulf Book 1)

by Shana Vanterpool

  “Come on, princess.” Justine waltzes in front of me for the front door. “Don’t be alarmed by what you’re about to see.”

  I giggle at her serious tone. “Is this The X-Files?”

  “I’m not messing around. This house isn’t for the perfects of this world.”

  “Clearly,” I mumble. “Just open the door. I’m a big girl. I’ll wash my eyes out with bleach when I get home.”

  “Bleach isn’t strong enough for these men.”

  The second she opens the door rap music hits me and the beat from the bass wraps around my legs. Justine reaches behind her and grabs for my hand, leading me past the living room where a DJ is set up, past the kitchen where people pile around a cooler, and around a corner in the back of the house. Just as she reaches for the door at the end of the hallway Jona comes out.

  His mouth drops when he sees her. He smiles a little, almost like he was hoping she’d be here. Then his gaze widens. He takes in her legs, the way her ass teases the back, and her heels. Hunger enters his gaze. The man is starving.

  “You look good, girl,” he says, grabbing her around the waist to hug her. As he does he notices me. His smile drops. He pulls away from her and glares. “What are you doing, Jus?”

  “What?” she asks innocently.

  “Don’t pull those wide eyes at me. Why’d you bring her here?”

  “Because I can. What’s wrong with her being here?”

  He scratches the back of his neck, looking uncomfortable. “Bach’s here, that’s why.”

  “So what?”

  “Jus,” he grumbles and then shrugs. “Fine, but I’m not dealing with him. I had nothing to do with this.”

  She touches his chest and leans in. “I’ll deal with him.”

  “You love starting shit, don’t you?” But he smiles at her. “Can I have a kiss or are you going to knee me in my nuts again?”

  She leans in, but just before his lips touch hers she pulls away and grabs my hand. “Come on, princess. The best shit’s in the garage.”

  “Why does it matter if I’m here?” I ask Jona, worried now, and hurt. “Does he hate me that much?”

  Jona cringes. “You’re asking the wrong person.”

  I stare more closely at Jona’s tightened expression. It makes my plan far more important.

  “Are you high yet?” Jus demands.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Wrong answer. Don’t worry about Bach. He’s not worried about you.”

  New Harley agrees.

  “Jus?” Jona calls. “Don’t believe a word she says. She’s lying.”

  Justine frowns. “Who?”

  He doesn’t answer. He slips into the crowd.

  Justine screams and pushes the door open. Most of the people near the door look at her. I’m good for a few seconds so I quickly scan the garage. There’s couches pushed in the corner with a speaker in between them as a makeshift table. A pool table is on the opposite side. Men gather around it, shouting at each other as the distinct sound of the cue cracking off the white ball sounds. There’s not a lot of people in the garage, not as many as there is in the house, but there’s enough to freak me out. They’re all so … intimidating. They’re not here to torture anyone in their mini-skirts. They’re here to take deep breaths of the smoky atmosphere. The song in the house shifts and some of the guys standing near the ice bucket of beer scream in delight. The bass pounds against my back. I step into the garage and let the door close behind me.

  I have a feeling I just entered the wolves den.

  My stomach falls into my heels, tripping me. And despite all of that going on around me I am able to spot him immediately. Bach’s sitting on the biggest couch with a red head. Her legs are thrown over his and his head is laid back. He doesn’t know we’re here. She’s talking to him about something. He doesn’t respond. Doesn’t even open his eyes. I watch his chest rise and fall under his gray shirt. It hypnotizes me. I can almost feel it all the way from over here. My heart synchs with his, beating, pumping blood to my brain. It feels like it’s been years since we’ve spoken. He’s wearing white long sleeves under his grey shirt and they’re pulled up to his forearms. His jean clad legs are open wide so her feet have somewhere to hang. There’s a beer bottle in his hand. I feel myself drawn to him in a way I’ve never been drawn to anyone, but within that attraction there is hurt and pain.

  Justine stomps over to them. Her heels, my heels, clack ominously. She doesn’t even pause. She just grabs the red head by her hair and flings her onto the ground. Bach looks over at them on the ground, completely bored as Justine and the red head twist together, throwing punches and insults. I catch a few words. “Jona, how could you, slut.” I guess this girl is the “she” Jona warned Justine about.

  I want to leave. Bach hasn’t seen me yet. Let him have his red head. He doesn’t want me anyway. Why am I even here? My plan seems silly now. Forcing Bach to admit he has feelings for me hardly matters when he clearly didn’t possess any to begin with. But deep down I feel torn up in a way I hadn’t with Dylan. It hits me fast and hard. It doesn’t seem logical. Dylan and I were together a year. Bach barely a month. But in that month I went from someone who knew who she was to someone who had no clue. Bach made me question my life, how I saw others, and I can’t stand him for that. His lies changed me.

  As I turn to leave once and for all Justine ruins my escape.

  “Harley!” she screeches. “Don’t just stand there. Get her off me.”

  Bach sits up like Justine electrocuted him. His eyes search the room in record speed. When they land on me my knees weaken and my plan is renewed. I know he was lying. His mouth opens wide like he can’t breathe. He can’t even find his breath. The beer in his hand falls to the floor. Broken glass and brown liquid spill and pool around his boots. He can’t take his eyes off me.

  “He wanted it!” The red head growls, using her strength to pin Justine’s arms to the ground.

  As much as I want to watch Bach’s tongue loll out his mouth I can’t let Justine lose. Red Head loses tonight. Not us. I run over as fast as I can in my heels and grab her arm, pulling her back. They both scramble to their feet like cheetahs. But she doesn’t want Justine anymore. She wants me. She grabs my hair and yanks my head down. I have a brief annoyed filled second when I think of my hair getting ruined. But New Harley doesn’t care about my hair. She pushes her hand against her face and gets enough room to free my hair from her fingers.

  “Leave her alone, Brittney.” Bach’s deep voice rivals the base from the music.

  Red Head glares at him, wiping the blood from her lip. “You know her?”

  He nods once. I can see him out of my periphery, feel his eyes on me. I refuse to look at him. He let Red Head throw herself at him and he caught her. I threw myself and he let me fall.

  “We need to talk,” Justine growls.

  “What is there to talk about? Jona’s the one who needs to do the talking.”

  “But you know!” she screams. “You know how I feel. I told you everything.”

  Brittney shrugs. It makes me want to kick her ass too. All four of us know Jona wasn’t the only one she was with. Bach doesn’t let the girls he catches sit on his lap for nothing.

  “Ladies, ladies, calm down.” A strange arm slides around my shoulder. “This is a party. We’re here to have fun. What’s your name? I haven’t seen you around here before. I would have remembered eyes that gold.”

  Oh. Wow. Sex. Muscles. Black eyes. His arm feels really good around my shoulders. “What’s that noise?” I ask him stupidly, hearing a buzzing in the back of my brain. “It’s bright as hell in here.” I blink up at the lights. They’re so … bright.

  “Now you’re high,” Justine grumbles as Brittney sneaks away.

  “She’s what?” Bach demands.

  Justine wraps her arms around me from behind, grinning naughtily at Bach over my shoulder. “She’s high. As in not sober. You know all about that.”

  “Harley!” he barks
.

  I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of looking at him. I can feel the music. If I reach out I can almost touch it. Justine laughs. I don’t understand what’s so funny. I lean into Black Eyes but he’s not there anymore. He’s gone. Bach gives him a look and the poor guy scurries away.

  “What did you give her?”

  “Chill out, Bach. It’s just E.”

  “You took fucking Ecstasy? Harley? Look at me!” he shouts.

  When I do I know why I was waiting. His sea green eyes are bloodshot and engulfed in rage. And even then they’re the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen. I knew the second I looked into them I’d fall. I can’t fall. He won’t catch me. But I want him to. It’s the least he can do considering he’s the one who pushed me.

  “What do you want?” I bite out.

  He grabs my hand and pulls me away from Justine. “Tell me she’s lying. You’re not high.”

  I look at the lights above the ceiling. I can feel the heat of them coming off like the sun. I toss my head back and let the sun’s rays bathe me.

  “You’re high.” He pulls me closer to him so that his abs press against my stomach. I look at him. “Why would you do this?”

  I touch his face gently, sliding my fingers over his lips. His skin feels like ironed satin. It’s so silky and warm. “Are you happy now?”

  He closes his eyes in regret. When he opens them I want to kiss him. Kiss him so hard and for so long he’s mine forever. New Harley reaches down and pulls me off of him. Or Justine. I can’t tell.

  Forever?

  “Leave her alone, Bach.”

  “You need to back the fuck off, Justine.” Rage comes off of him in shimmery waves. “She’s not used to this. It’s not fun for her. It’s dangerous. You could hurt her!” he rages. “Take her back home.”

  “We just got here. We haven’t even started yet.”

  “We haven’t?” I ask, trying to touch the angry waves glittering around his body.

  “Stop it,” he orders, knocking my hand away.

  The contact feels like heated velvet all over my body.

  “No, princess. Sit down. I’m winning this bet.”

  “So far you’re losing,” I tell her. “Bach’s ruining it.”

  “What bet?” he demands.

  Justine glares at him. “Would you shut up? No one wants to hear you right now. We’re trying to have fun.”

  My legs are starting to feel boneless. I move around Bach’s body and fall onto the couch.

  When I do my skirt rises practically to my hip, showing off the hemline of my yellow lace panties. Bach sits down next to me and grabs my skirt, pulling it down roughly to cover as much as my body as possible. It doesn’t cover any.

  “Go home, Harley.”

  I push at his chest. “Your breath smells like beer and Red Head.”

  “Stop it!” He grabs both my wrist to keep my hands still. “Can I take you home? You don’t need to be here. Please, Harley.” His hands shake around mine. “You’re better than this shitty place.”

  “I know you can’t stand me. I get it. You don’t want anything to do with me. But someone else might. Justine does. So leave me alone, Bach. Go have fun. I am.” I pull my arms free of his and cross my legs to make a point.

  He looks desperate. I don’t understand why. I was just an obligation.

  “Look what I found.” Justine comes bearing gifts. She squeezes between Bach and me on the couch. “You have a lighter?” she asks him.

  He reaches over and snatches the joint from her hand. “That shit’s laced with Ketamine. I’ll kill you before I let you give that to her.”

  “Ketamine?” I gawk at her. “Are you trying to kill me?”

  “Oh poo. It’s not that bad. Why don’t you and Brittney go make a new strand of STD? If you haven’t already,” she insults.

  He looks at me helplessly. “What do I have to do to get you to leave?”

  In that instant, between heartache and rage, New Harley takes over completely. I reach over and snatch the joint from him. “Nothing, Bach. Are you done now? Because I am.” I’m going to show him.

  He sits back, eyes locked on mine. The promise in them is clear. “You just earned yourself a shadow, babe. Where you go I go.”

  Justine looks at him with her eyes ablaze. “Do you want me to tell her what Brittney whispered in my ear?”

  “Tell her. She knows I’m a piece of shit. A dirty story isn’t going to shock her at this point.”

  Justine turns to me. “He and Jona double teamed her. And then when they were done Bach got their sloppy seconds.”

  I clear my throat. Twice. Then I get up and walk away. I can’t stand the sight of him. His filth is starting to cloud my air. I can’t breathe. True to his word he gets up and follows me. I need a drink. I grab the doorknob and turn, but it sticks. I struggle with it, growing more and more agitated.

  “Here,” he says quietly, reaching around me to open the door. “The lock is jammed.”

  I don’t answer him. If I do I have a feeling it won’t be with words. It’ll be with my hands. On his face. Clawing the filth off of him. He did this to me when he whispered my name. When someone pleads to you when they’re breaking apart it makes you want to hold them together. Part of me had unknowingly embraced this man, and to have him push me away hurt far worse than Dylan’s lies. I stumble into the hall with Bach right behind me. I can feel his body heat pressing into me, warming the back of my thighs. I detest the part of me that wants to lean back into him as he wraps me in his arms. I feel like I’m falling. New Harley promises it won’t hurt, but I think New Harley might be lying.

  The kitchen is crammed with people. The rap music invades the area, thudding in the walls. Those around the cooler part for me when I shove them out of the way. I reach down and grab a beer, pop the top, and press it to my lips in one fluid motion. Bach crosses his arms over his chest as I chug it.

  “What are you wearing?” His eyes take in my skin, more of it uncovered than covered for once.

  “Justine picked it out.”

  “What are you doing hanging out with her?”

  “Was Dylan glad when you told him your mission was complete?”

  His mouth thins. He’s not going for the bait tonight. “How long are you going to be here?”

  “Until I fall apart,” I promise him.

  “That’s fine. I’ll pick up the pieces.”

  I crunch my beer can like a veteran and toss it in the garbage. “Funny. I thought I was doing that for you.”

  His face softens, yet his eyes refuse to unthaw. “Don’t do this to get back at me. This isn’t what I wanted.”

  “Don’t flatter yourself. I’m not doing this to get back at you. I’m doing this because I can’t. Nothing I do can make you give a shit. You don’t care about anyone or anything. You’re a black hole!” I don’t realize I’m screaming at him until people start to crowd around us.

  He doesn’t notice them. He’s too busy pleading at me with his eyes. Something in them leaks through for a minute. It’s the same look he gave me when he first saw me in the garage. As if he was on fire, burning, and I held the only bucket of water in his universe that could douse the flames. The look is gone just as fast, replaced with annoyance, frustration, anything but the need I swore I saw. New Harley calls it bullshit. She doesn’t believe I even saw it.

  I know I did.

  “You’re doing the one thing I never wanted for you.” He waves a hand at my clothes, at the new me. “You’re doing exactly what I tried to prevent. Don’t hurt yourself, baby. Don’t do this to me.”

  He wasn’t making any sense. His deep voice fanned across my face lovingly, and yet his words were senseless gibberish. His games have no end, no prize. Playing against Bach is like settling for second place without a fight. That’s my only option even if I somehow found the strength to battle him. “Tell me truth. Was Dylan glad you finished your community service? Did you tell him how I fell for your lies the same way
I fell for his?”

  “I guess I’m a better liar than I thought,” he mumbles under his breath. Louder, meant for me to hear this time, he leans in close, he’s burning again, “I thought you weren’t an idiot, Harley. I thought you would have picked up on something if it was there. It’s there. It’s right here,” he whispers harshly, begging me to understand.

  “Princess!”

  I knew he was lying.

  “Can I take you home? I want to take you home. I need to take you home.”

  “No.” He ran from me. Ran right into Red Head’s arms as if mine weren’t outstretched and waiting. Bach needs to learn a lesson. He can’t pull me in, run away, and then get upset when I chase after him. Tonight is the last night a man makes my choices.

  “There you are,” Justine exhales, barreling into the kitchen. “We’re about to open the goose. It’s time to get this party started, girl.”

  “Harley, please,” Bach begs.

  It’s too late for begging.

  Justine grabs my hand and pulls me away from him and into the party.

  “I’m sorry!” he calls. “Harley!”

  I don’t look back to see if he’s following. I know he is. I can feel his eyes on me the entire night. No matter what room I’m in he’s there. No matter how many shots Justine gives me Bach’s heavy gaze heats my legs, my flushed cheeks, and my actions. I allow New Harley complete control of my body. She smokes what’s given to her, drinks what’s handed to her, and swallows whatever Justine gives her. Bach was lying. And now I am too.

  The lights blur together. The sweat on my skin is sticky. My tongue is heavy. I dance with men I don’t want and flirt with the ones who want me. I can see very little and feel too much. My ears bleed from the music. I don’t lose control like this. Control is all I have. Letting it go feels like falling out of an airplane without a parachute. I know it’s going to hurt when I fall to the ground. My legs are going to break. Bach didn’t want to break them and now they’re broken anyway. He trusted everyone else, even his fears, over me.

  At some point it happens.

  I fall.

  Strong arms pick me up and carry my broken body. They lay me down on something soft. My brain struggles to comprehend the incomprehensibleness around me.