Chapter 2
It’s her.
The streetlights catch her eyes revealing a dazzling green.
Then, my heart does what it did the first time. It speeds up like I’m on Gray’s shit.
“Y-you—” she stutters, her voice as shaky as her breath but that raspiness makes her sound as angelic as I’d imagined. “Y-you—” She looks about my age, a high schooler, but the sight of the rest of her body from beyond that door is hard to ignore.
Her curves dip in all the right places, red curls blowing in the wind like wildfire. She already has a rack the girls at my school would kill for and I can tell from here she’s not stuffing. Matter fact, this girl’s a far cry from the frail, thin girls skipping breakfast at school. But the way she holds that gun doesn’t match. It’s like if the wind shifted the wrong way, the weight would topple her.
Cute.
She grips the hunk of metal hard, the tip of her shaky fingers as white as my shoes. “You’ll pay for what you did to my uncle,” she says, her deathly stare locked on mine. “You’ll pay for what you did to us.”
Jake Everett’s niece.
“Oh, really?” Despite the pounding of my heart, I’m about to remind her that McKinsleys don’t intimidate. “Just how might I be doing that?” I ask, my eyes on her lips as I take the cigarette away from mine. They’re full. Plump. Juicy. Begging to be bruised. “Where’d you get that thing? The local crackhead?”
“Shut up,” she spits. “Don’t say another word or I’ll do it.”
With a step towards her, that scent intensifies. So does the heat on my face. She looks even better up close. An angel. One I want to ruin and bring to the depths of hell.
Her hands tremble more the closer I get and when I’m in front of her, she speaks again. “You ruined my life.” I’m so close that her breath falls on my lips making something inside me twist. “Take another step and I swear I’ll make it even.”
“Well, if I take another step my lips might be on yours.” She’s taller than I expected up close but I still tower over her. I make sure she knows it as I lower my head to her ear so she hears every word. “Except you’re Grim Valley grime. Tasting your tongue will be like tasting filth. And I bet your cunt tastes the same as?—”
POW!
My eyes shoot up from those lips to her widened eyes.
My body stiffens but… I don’t feel a thing.
She missed.
My smirk grows. “Just like your uncle, you’re a weak shot.”
Her entire body shakes in response as she glances at the door behind me. She must know she’s on a time limit. There’s no way the guys didn’t hear that. The grip around what I now know is a loaded gun tightens, defiance in her eyes.
I slide to my left, my eyes on the gun. I don”t know if she’ll shoot again but I know better than standing in the line of fire.
“Don’t move!” It’s a faint yell through her gritted teeth.
She cocks the gun again and I’ve let this go on far too long. “Shoot that thing again and being a stubborn bitch will be the least of your concerns.” No one in Paradise Hill dare step to me, much less with a firearm. I’ll have to train this one myself. “What’s best for you is if you put that down and drop to your knees. I’ll pull out my cock and you can apologize by putting those fat lips to use.”
She scowls. “What’s best for me is your body on the floor. Since I’m the one with the gun, you should be on your knees. Begging. Pleading.”
My stomach stirs. She sounds as fucked up as I am. “You first.” Taking a small step towards her, my eyes fall to the gun, noting how it sits in her grasp. “And seeing the way you choked on that shot tells me you’ll have a lot of trouble when you choke on my cock.” My fingers graze hers when I reach for the gun, a spark coming with it.
She gasps, taking a step back, her hand tighter around the metal. “Don’t!”
I take another step forward before those greens disappear, her eyes squeezing shut.
Shit.
POW!
A hard slap hits my abs as my eyes rise to hers.
She gasps, her eyes dropping to my torso. Looking down, blood stains my white shirt. And before it all registers, I lose my balance and collapse to the ground.
Looking up at her legs, she’s shakier than ever. So shaky if I listen hard enough, I’m sure I can hear the bullets rattle in that gun.
When my eyes rise back to the face of the maniac who shot me, I don’t miss the smirk that fades as quickly as it shows. “I—fuck—” she stammers, looking around her. “Did I?—”
Loud sounds come from inside the bar. The rattle of glasses, shouting, and the sound of tables knocking over. Maybe chairs. If they didn’t hear the first shot, they sure as hell heard this one.
“Malcolm?” Father’s voice bellows from beyond the door, solidifying my assumptions.
“Go,” I demand as I stare into those eyes. She’s frozen, her eyes fixed on my body. “Go. Now.”
The gun clatters to the ground before those black shoes take off. She glances back, her eyes catching mine before she disappears around the corner. It’s only then a searing hot sensation hits my side.
Trying to push off the ground is impossible. With a groan, I slide back down, a hint of her scent still in the air.
“Mac!”
The world returns when my father appears by my side, the smell of alcohol replacing that sweet, deadly scent.
“Call Antoni,” Father demands, his hand hovering above my body. “Who the hell did this?”
My head falls against the brick, closing my eyes so her mouth comes to me again. Those eyes. That hair. It’s all I can think of to take the pain away.
“Malcolm,” Father calls again. “Stay with me. Who did this? Some Valley vermin?”
Exactly. “I—I dunno.”
“What did he look like?”
Heaven.
Hell.
“I don’t know,” I push my words through my teeth. “I didn’t see his face.”
Truth is, I’ll never fucking forget it.
Ember
(Two Years Later)
“I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.”
Pressing the crumpled lottery ticket against Uncle Jake’s chest, I collapse into the dingy sofa beside him. Those three words alone make his slur noticeable. But if that didn’t tell me he’s half-in-the-bag, the smell reeking off his breath would.
“Keep wasting money on gambling and I just might.” Sketchpad in my lap, I settle into the space beside him, my attention split between my charcoal pencil and the small screen in front of us. It’s the Bruins versus The Canadiens. Third period. Tied game. “Offside!” I call, Uncle Jake mumbling the same. The refs don”t catch it.
“Fuck the refs,” we both groan in unison, and that’s enough to dispel the tension between us.
There’s no use in being mad at Uncle Jake. He’s all I got. And after what happened to him and our shop, I can’t blame him for the state he’s in. Looking at the sketch of the woman on the page in my lap, I just wish things were different.
“Headed to a press conference?” Uncle Jake finally looks my way, the bags under his eyes as dark as my slacks. I held onto it from the old shop. It’s a few seasons old for where I’m headed but I’m hoping they don’t notice.
“Job interview,” I reply.
“Job? Who did you murder for that chance?” My head whips to him, red coils almost giving him a lash as my mind flashes back to that night.
Go. Now!
He gives me a weird look, my shoulders dropping. He’s talking about the state of The Valley and not my past. Jobs are as scarce as our sanity.
“I didn”t murder anyone. Just got lucky.” Holding back the deets is for his good.
“What about college? You don’t have to do that, Emmy. Focus on getting into a good school.”
“We can’t even afford groceries, how do you expect us to afford tuition?”
”What about scholarships? You”re a good artist Emmy, your dad?—”
”I”ll apply soon.” I cut him off before he makes things more sentimental than I need right now. ”I need this. We need this.” My fingers come to my locket.
“Ember, I’d never ask you to hustle.”
“I know.” Rising from the sofa I look around the space that reminds me why I’m headed to the town I never thought I’d step foot in. “You’re not playing anytime soon.” Ever. “And aren’t you tired of sleeping on this couch?” Uncle Jake gave me the one room in our mobile home by the river, the only thing we have left after everything.
That and a never-ending nightmare.
Fuck that kid and his iron eyes, that chiselled jaw and that soul-sucking stare. My fingers wrap around my locket, tugging on it until the metal chain digs into the back of my neck. He’ll never understand what he took away from us.
“God dammit!” Jake’s response to the game rips me out of my flashback before I move towards the door. I’m not staying to watch him get more drunk by the whistle.
My Oxfords thud against the stripped wood, kicking bottles of pilsners out of the way. “I’ll be back before you know it.”
“Emmy,” he calls. “Good luck.”
I’ll sure as hell need it.
“I’m on another fucking planet,”I mutter, taking in my surroundings.
The ride from The Valley to The Hill’s pristine, paved roads didn’t prep me for this. Their grass is literally greener, framing manicured shrubs and ornate gates. They sit between sparkling window displays with luxury brands and galleries with red carpet entryways. But this, this is just … stupid.
Spit tickles my lip before I realize how open my jaw is, staring at the monster of the building in front of me. It looks like The Louvre, not that I’ve ever been. Romanesque arches blend with medieval columns. Baroque ornaments make it look as royal as you’d expect from these assholes.
Pulling my super old phone out of my tote, I’m only twenty minutes late after two hours and four busses. If it wasn’t for my sketches, I don’t know if my nerves would survive the trip.
The chill in the air gets colder as I move closer to the front door.
“You got this, Ember,” I whisper to myself, my eyes scanning the row of luxury cars in the parking lot. Bentleys. Lamborghinis. Ferraris. I only know them from the rap videos Angelo shows me. Gripping my locket, I remind myself why I’m here. “Let’s do this.”
A fairytale foyer greets me once I’m through the large golden doors and it wouldn’t surprise me if “Be My Guest” starts to play. Chandeliers hang from high dome ceilings decorated with intricate mouldings and oil-painted cherubs. The sunlight hitting the crystal makes the room sparkle. Polished golden fixtures shine throughout. Looking down at my outfit, I hope my willingness to work outshines my frumpy appearance.
I have to land this gig.
No one in The Valley pays as much as these guys. Dancing with these devils is what Uncle Jake and I need.
As I move further, a manicured hand comes to my chest, french tips glossed to perfection. “Are you lost?” A nasally voice brings my shoulders to my ears. “You’re at Sun House. Members only.” Looking to my side, a girl’s falsely lashed eyes roam my appearance, layered blonde hair framing her thin face.
Lifting my head high, I plaster on a smile. “I’m here for an interview with Charlotte Banks.”
The blonde blinks before walking behind a large wooden podium. Her white blouse sits unbuttoned just enough to tease any guy walking through those golden doors. “Your name?”
“Ember Everett.”
Her golden pen trails the page. “So it is.” Disbelief peppers her haughty tone. “You can head towards the Sumptuous Salon.” She points the pen towards the room with velvet chairs outlined in gold.
I thank her with a nod and a smile. I’ll show these folks that where I’m from, we still have manners. If my resume was enough to get me this interview, it’s enough to land me this job. Okay, maybe I embellished it a bit. I didn’t work at that Michelin Star restaurant and I wasn’t the executive assistant at Vanity Fair. But they don’t need to know that.
It’s hard to ignore eyes on me as I walk through the ornate room with golden statues and more dangling crystals.
“Loser.”
“Why are you even here?”
“You think you belong here?”
Not even five minutes in and the wolves have clocked the kid from The Valley.
My head held high, I take a deep breath, readying a comeback. But when I look around for who said those words, I don’t see anyone.
“No one wants you here.” A snooty voice rings through the room, high-pitched and proud. “Nobody wants that outfit you’re wearing either and as far as I know, not even your parents want you around. So why don’t you do us all a favour and disappear?”
My eyes narrow in on the side of the room. A group of girls my age gather around a small table. Another girl with an angled bob is there too, but she”s the only one actually sitting. She keeps her head down, her shoulders hunched. Her outfit doesn’t look as bad as mine and it’s clear she fits into The Hill. But something about her is different. Her eyes on her book, she scribbles something on a sheet of paper while the rest all stand around her laughing.
“So now you don’t have a mouth? Or do you save it for sucking dick?”
Turns out, even those who belong in Paradise Hill aren’t welcome. They laugh some more and The Bob sinks further into her seat. She won’t even stand up for herself.
“Don’t worry, that outfit doesn’t make you any less of a whore.”
Teeth clenched, my feet move towards the table.
Don’t do it.
Don’t get involved.
Worry about yourself.
But it’s too late.
Passing a table with a leftover glass of wine, I grab it and keep walking as I pinpoint the leader. There’s always a leader.
This one has long black hair with streaks of glitter and her makeup beat to perfection. She wears a white dress with a furry jacket, her nails matching her white, glittery ensemble.
My hand tightens around the glass as their laughter roars through the lounge. They’re way too caught up in making this girl”s life hell to see what I’m about to do.
If she won’t fight back, I will.