Total pages in book: 168
Estimated words: 160578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 803(@200wpm)___ 642(@250wpm)___ 535(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 160578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 803(@200wpm)___ 642(@250wpm)___ 535(@300wpm)
River opens the fridge and slides in two bottles of Cristal champagne. “Lilac. She needs to wear lilac. Like the deep burgundy color you wear.”
“I told her that,” I say, taking the glass of whiskey from Stella as she slides onto the counter. “But she said we always wear that color.”
River shrugs. “True.”
There’s a slight pause. Halen stares between us, crossing her arms in front of the other. “How do you know that?”
River bats her lashes innocently to deflect.
Whiskey burns my lips as I wave my hand to brush off River's slip-up. “Observation of the photos she saw when we were children.”
“You need to wear wine.” Stella interrupts. Thank God. Her brows move suggestively as she hides her smirk behind a glass.
Halen’s too busy texting to notice. “Evie’s away in the city, or she’d be here too. Right!” Halen claps. “Let’s go.”
An hour later, we pull up to the entrance of a rusted sign that hangs above. With faded colors illustrating laughter and excitement, it’s now chipped and withered from neglect. Moss shrubs fill the cracked pathway, and the only thing alive is the relentless veins of Mother Nature, where her vines grow over archaic slabs of concrete.
I slide out of the car, inhaling the ancient smell of metallic blended with burned rubber.
“We had to pick up our precious cargo!” Stella appears at my side, River on the other. I’m like a caged animal, one that people can’t seem to stop looking at.
“Precious cargo, huh?” Vaden’s eyes darken on me, leaving prickles of fear down the base of my spine. He taps the tip of his nose as if to hide his smug grin. “Interesting wording.”
Stella rolls her eyes, turning to me. “Luna, you must have a boyfriend in Spain. I’ve seen those Mayhem men!” A shadow shifts from behind Halen. Probably War, since they can’t seem to last three seconds away from each other.
“Not really.” tires ripping up asphalt shriek over the distant sound of music. I get why they come here. It almost feels free. Like you’re not being held to any generational standard.
“Not really?” Stella’s dark brow curves. “I like the not reallys. Tell me more.”
Halen starts talking in the background, so I entertain Stella while everyone is distracted. Including myself, when a car spins circles into a cloud of smoke.
“I should say no. No, I don’t.” Corbin doesn’t count, and the only man that I—
“Or did.”
The intrusion of his voice douses all warmth from the alcohol I’d sipped on the way here. As much as I want to fight it, I can’t help when my eyes land on him.
Leaning casually against the side of his car with his hoodie resting against the back of his neck, he looks about as interested in this conversation as I am, yet he’s who interrupted it.
“Right.” My fingernail grazes the base of my palm. “I guess what I should say, is that I did.”
Priest’s sadistic glare remains on me, and every passing second is a spiteful promise of destruction. It's as if he’s counting my breaths because he knows when my last one will be, but I refuse to break first. I know he prefers it when I do.
“Oh! What happened?” Halen asks from somewhere to the side.
My eyes burn as the sting from my nails does nothing to distract the stir of chaos that threatens. Dammit. “He’s dead.”
Stella clears her throat with a chuckle. “Sorry, didn’t mean to laugh, but yo…” Her discolored eyes find Priest. “Did you kill him?”
“Nah,” Priest smirks but keeps his eyes fixed on me. “Luna did.” He pauses, lifting the cigarette he’s holding to his mouth and angling his head. “Right, Madness?”
“Fuck you.” I can’t be bothered engaging with him tonight. I go back to the cars. Burnt tire marks pave the way through the park entrance, bypassing rides that are frozen in time. Stella bumps my hip with hers and winks at me over her shoulder as her heels clap against the concrete. Shit. What have I got myself into?
Chapter Fifteen
priest
pretty comes in all shapes and sizes. And they all fit inside a coffin.
“Sounds like I don’t give a fuck. There were a lot of girls here last night.” I perfected the art of ignoring Evie a long time ago.
“Priest!” The snapping of her fingers to get my attention grows louder before the mattress dips and she grabs me by the chin.
I yank myself out of her grip. “What?”
Her green eyes stay on mine from above.
“Are you fucking straddling me, Ev?”
When her mouth flatlines, the corner of mine twitches.
She crawls backward. “I said there was a girl at your house last night. Cute. Little. Blonde hair, big ass, and a charming smile—” Everything in this room reminds me of Luna. No matter how hard I try to erase it.
Fishing my phone out of my pocket, I tap on Instagram and scroll through my home page. “—at your parents.” My thumb stops. Evie and my sister have been close since they first saw each other. She’s probably the only other person alive who wasn’t born into the EKC but who can chill, and the only person alive who would ever do some dumb shit like touch me the way she just did.