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Jesus, he doesn’t know a thing about her. The thought crosses my mind just as the next statement leaves his mouth.
“It’s her favorite necklace.”
I scoff a laugh, scrubbing a hand over my face as a sinister smirk slips into place. “No, it’s not.”
My hand shoots forward, the expanse of my palm covering the precious stones as my thumb and fingers wrap around the slender curve of her throat. My grip tightens, and with one quick tug, I’m pulling her into me.
I secure her in place, staring at her with fierce intensity as her pulse races within my hold. Leaning down, I position my face alongside her ear as I lock eyes with her red-faced bitch of a fiancé behind her. “Is it, demon?” I flex my fingers, giving a light squeeze to the column of her neck.
She shudders at the gesture, allowing the slightest of gasps to sneak past her lips. The sound may be faint, but it travels directly to my dick, which now threatens to punch through the fabric of my dress slacks.
The smile that slides across my face is so wide, the expression feels almost unnaturally foreign. I pull back slightly, recapturing her now hooded gaze. “Like I said,” I whisper so only she can hear, “you just don’t do it with him.”
“Daphne!”
I glance over her shoulder to see her mother barreling for us, her face contorted into a look of pure outrage. As she closes the distance between us, her arm extends.
“Fucking touch her, Belinda. I dare you.”
She halts, still clearly seething, but not dumb enough to doubt my willingness to cause a scene. The party’s now in full swing, but we’ve still managed to capture the attention of some of the surrounding attendees.
Slowly dragging my attention back to Daph, my grip loosens, shifting to slip around to the nape of her neck. Sliding my hand up into her hair, my fingertips tighten at her roots, tilting her head back to stare up at me.
“Nicky!” My mother’s voice speaks up behind me. “I think I’ve had my fill of high society for the night. What do you say we go grab some burgers and FaceTime your sister?”
“Sounds like a plan, Ma,” I call out over my shoulder, though I continue to hold Daph’s stare. Accepting my time with her has come to a close, I begin to remove my arm from her waist, but not before tightening my grip on her roots one final time.
“In case today is one of those days where you forgot… You’re perfect, Daph.”
Her virid eyes grow rapt with a familiar hunger I crave, though I force myself to release her. I spin, extending the crook of my elbow to my mother so we can take our leave. She obliges, and I escort her from the ballroom. Yet, the further I get from Daphne Burke, I know this time is different.
Because while she may have untangled the chaos, she also wound me so tight, every thread just fucking snapped.
CHAPTER 15
THEN
NICKY – Age 19
I push my bike toward the trailer bearing the bold “Conners Rec” logo on the side, though it’s less like a trailer and more like a fully operational garage on wheels. I’m about ten yards out when Jones comes to stand atop the back ramp. Her hair’s piled high on her head in a messy bun with a red bandana serving as a headband, holding back any strands threatening to fall free. She smiles at me, the bright white of her teeth contrasting against her tan sweat-coated skin.
She saunters down the metal ramp, pulling a rag from the back pocket of her too-short denim cutoffs to wipe her grease-stained hands. She flips it over her left shoulder, calling my attention to the uncomfortable amount of exposed skin her cropped tank is allowing. It’s hot as fuck out here today, the August summer sun beating down on us. However, that doesn’t make me any less annoyed that my baby sister’s out here serving as spank bank material for these fucking perverts.
As if on cue, one of the douchebags chooses this exact moment to shoot his shot.
“Jonsie, baby! When you gonna put me outta my misery and gimme the time of day?”
She snorts, flipping him off just as I lower my kickstand into the dirt and position my body in front of hers to glare at the asshole. He ignores me, clutching his chest as he continues to address her.
“You wound me, sexy.”
“Goddammit, Jackson!” I bark. “She’s fifteen, you fucking pedophile.”
“I’m not eighteen ‘til next week, Nick.” He waggles his eyebrows at me. “I got eight more days where she’s fair game.”
My head drops back toward the sky, an eerie chuckle escaping me as I scrub a hand over my face. I approach his camp, still snickering as I close the distance between us. Jackson takes a few steps of his own to meet me, crossing his arms over his chest while still rocking that shit-eating grin.
Leaning in with a lazy smirk, I keep my voice low. “You think I give a shit about what the law says?” Jackson’s smile falters, his expression morphing to one of confusion. My hand shoots out, gripping hold of his chest protector and pulling him into me with such force, his body bounces off mine. He staggers backward, but my hold on him doesn’t allow him to get far. “I’ll slit your throat, hang your body from the finish line, and stand on the podium drinking your blood from my fucking trophy after I’ve bled you dry.”
