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I hate him so much.
My fingers twitch to dig into his eyes, scrape my nails down his face until he has deep scores embedded within his skin. I'd love to see him, bleeding and in pain as he snarls at me, his teeth clamping together like a rabid animal.
But the other part of me… the other part enjoys the way he looks at me. I loved his dark eyes staring into mine while I touched myself. The seduction in his raspy tone as he whispers filthy, unimaginable things in my ear.
"He looks at you like he wants to fuck you. Are you sure you haven't done anything with him?" Hazel asks from the driver's seat.
I shake my head, lowering my face so my friends can’t see my heated cheeks. "Nothing. I think he's just… possessive. He doesn't like me in this town."
She laughs. "Looks like he doesn't like anyone to be around you, Vera. Didn't seem like he gave a shit about anything else."
"Fuck no. We hate each other. Like, I'm surprised one of us isn't dead yet. I'm sure it's only a matter of time."
"That's why I have an idea," Hazel smirks, and I sit up straighter, my fingers curling around her headrest to get a better look at her. The scent of fresh leather hits my nose.
"What do you have in mind?"
She lets loose a full-blown smile at this point. "You'll see."
I stare at her a moment, wondering what the hell it is she has up her sleeve. But even from knowing her for such a short amount of time, I know she’s not one to crack easily.
Leaning back in my seat, I tilt my head toward the window, glancing at the black trees that sway in the wind. It looks like it should be the middle of the night, yet the moon doesn’t sit in the sky. It’s an eerie feeling, one that has shivers breaking out along my damp arms.
Hazel's windshield wipers swing back and forth rapidly, but even going at the fastest speed, visibility is still nearly impossible through the glass.
We drive for what feels like forever, but eventually, Hazel flicks on her blinker, and we turn right, going up a gravel hill. The gravel has turned to a mud in the heavy rain, and more than once I'm afraid the tires are going to get stuck, sinking us into the ground and pushing us back down the hill.
"I'm fine. This happens all the time," she grunts, pressing on the gas as hard as she can. The engine whirs, and we shoot forward, jolting up the incline and ending in front of a small garage and a rambler type home. It's beautiful and black, more modern-looking than the rest of the houses I've seen in town. But still creepy and Gothic, with large columns in front of the house and a gargoyle-esque statue sitting at the entrance.
Hazel switches off her car, and we all open our doors, rushing toward the front door. It’s dark, blood red in color, and rounded at the top. I can’t help but feel like I’m constantly in some fucked-up story wherever I go.
Hazel presses down on the handle and steps inside. My brows furrow. "You don't keep your door locked?" That's weird, but I've always been on edge about people breaking in.
She shrugs, looking confused. "If someone wants to break in, they'll find a way in whether the door is locked or not."
Well, when she puts it that way…
She toes off her shoes, and we follow suit, padding through her house silently. I look around, noticing the old-school art placed throughout. She has tall candles on just about every table and cabinet, which must be the reason I’m having an overwhelming rush of fifty different scents. The house is large and extravagant, with dark wooden beams extending across the pointed ceiling. Yet, there’s a feel about it that feels ancient, like I’m stepping back in time. Jars, blankets, and various plants decorate the house. Dried weeds and vines sit on the tables and hang from the ceilings.
My eyes widen at the abnormality of it all.
Large glass windows extend from the floor to the ceiling, showing off the forest around us, the dark, ominous trees in the distance.
"Vera, you coming?" Piper asks. I glance over at her and see her hand on a door handle to the basement. I nod and follow her as she heads downstairs.
The stairs are carpeted, plush against my feet as I silently walk behind her. My hand goes to the wooden banister once I get to the bottom of the stairs, and I turn around, my eyes widening when I see the open space in front of me. Large leather couches and movie theater style chairs sit in front of a screen that extends from the floor to the ceiling. It's beautiful, with a wooden bar on the side of the room, liquor bottles and a wine rack on the wall behind it.
Two completely different homes in one house. This shit did not look this big from outside.
"Wow," is all I can say.
Hazel goes behind the bar, ducking down and standing back up, holding a black box in her hand.
"I don’t think it’s going to work, Hazel," Piper sighs.
"Shit better not go south like last time." Blaire plops down on the couch, propping her feet up on the square coffee table in front of her.
"What's going on? What's the plan?" I ask, standing there, confused, unsure, a little leery. Even though my body doesn't get any bad vibes, I can't help the jaded part of me that wonders if these girls are trying to fuck with me.
