Chapter 7
SEVEN
PHOENIX
You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.
Did Cash Ryan have a death wish? It appeared so.
Cocksucker.
Possessiveness flared to life in the pit of my stomach, and I wanted to throw back my head and howl like the alpha I was.
I was standing in the shade of a large willow tree, surrounded by entitled motherfuckers schmoozing over their Pimm’s.
Reed was taking ages to fetch us some beers, and my throat was like sandpaper.
I needed a drink after witnessing the scene I’d been forced to endure the minute I’d entered the garden.
I couldn’t curb that relentless need to hit something—or someone.
Cash Ryan, Josh Sanderson, and Michael Dexter were all over Harper when I arrived with Reed.
It pissed me off. They were all in college, and so why the hell were they outrageously hitting on a high school girl?
Plus, rumour had it that Cash was still involved with Tate.
Tate Parker used to be besties with Storm in high school.
They were both mean bitches. I’d heard Tate moved to France and was studying art or some shit like that.
Reed said they had a long-distance thing going, so I assumed that meant phone sex.
In my view, that meant they were still involved.
Anxiety bubbled in my gut as I glared at the boys and Harper.
They had their tops off and were puffing out their chests, all wearing similar RVCA boardshorts.
Fricking sheep. And then it got worse when Sanderson and Dexter finally went to the bar, and Harper started taking off her clothes—right in front of a salivating Cash.
What the actual hell? I almost had a coronary on the spot.
The sexy way she undressed was like she was putting on a sex show.
When I saw what she was wearing beneath those tiny shorts and top, I was surprised the vein in my neck didn't explode.
I had never seen Harper in a bikini. She had always been self-conscious about her burns, so why now?
And for Cash fucking Ryan of all people?
Man, the girl was stunning. I couldn’t look away as I watched her smooth that fiery red hair over her shoulders.
It was like a curtain of thick silk—shiny and soft.
It always carried a scent of coconuts and something else exotic.
Harper had worn it loose to cover her back, not that it mattered; the scarring on her left shoulder and top of her spine didn’t even register.
She shone from all angles, regardless of the marks she had on her skin.
Although small and on the slender side, Harper’s body was smoking hot, the tiny gold shred of material only just covering those essential parts.
My eyes skated from the column of her slender throat, past her perky little tits, and down to where her hip bones jutted out slightly above the strings of those bikini bottoms. A picture of my hands holding her there whilst I fucked her from behind, mixed in with my jealousy.
Her petite stature and the innocence that had always radiated from her brought out both my predator and protector instincts.
I needed to get a grip. So, what? She was in her bikini, which was no different from what most of the girls were wearing. But they didn't look half as good as Harper did in hers, and that was the problem, right there.
Every curve was highlighted as the sun kissed her pale skin. Harper’s body had always been unique, and the entire surface was smattered with cute little freckles. The urge to count every single one with my fingertips powered through me.
My eyes narrowed as I saw Hudson and Molly on the loungers with the others behind her.
Why did I suddenly feel like my brother had betrayed me?
Then I remembered his warning about someone else getting there first. Surely, he hadn’t meant Cash Ryan?
I hated it when he spoke in code. He should have just given it to me straight.
Yes, they were friends, but Hudson and I were family.
In my endeavor not to storm over there and drown my brother in the pool, I turned my back.
Fortunately, Reed appeared in front of me with two cold beers.
“About fucking time,” I grunted moodily.
“Sorry, Storm collared me at the bar.”
I raised an eyebrow, “I’ll just bet she did.” Fuck knew what he saw in her; a golden pussy?
Rolling his eyes, Reed handed me the beer, and we clinked the necks of the bottles together in a toast. Although what we were toasting, I hadn’t a clue at that point; certainly not what was going on behind my back. And I meant that figuratively and literally.
After taking a long pull on my drink, my eyes wandered over Reed’s shoulders and torso. Had he changed his clothes? I was certain he came to the party in a Nirvana T-shirt. I had clearly missed the button-up monstrosity he was now wearing.
“What the fuck have you come as? Isn’t that a woman’s top?”
The offending item was also made of wool. Dude must have been boiling.
He glanced down and rearranged one sleeve with the same hand he held his beer in. “It’s a cardigan. It’s called fashion, Phoenix.”
“Yeah, for bitches.” I scanned his pretty boy face, taking in his scowl with a satisfied smile.
“It was a gift, so shut your mouth,” Reed said under his breath, glancing over his shoulder, and a minute later, I realized why.
My head snapped up at the unwelcome noise.
Annoyance exploded inside of me. I wasn’t in the mood for meaningless banter with our hostess.
“You made it, Phoenix. I wasn’t sure you’d come.
” I looked to the sky and closed my eyes at that nasal voice.
I wasn’t sure I would either, I almost said out loud.
Only the heavens knew what my brother saw in this woman. She must have had a magic snatch or something.
As usual, when Reed was around, Storm wasn't far behind. As she appeared beside us, I lowered my jaw and leveled her a look. I could tell from her sour expression that she wasn't pleased to see me, despite her cheery greeting.
“Free booze and hot chicks. What’s not to like?” I smirked, instantly morphing into dick mode.
“Quite,” she replied with a smarmy look. Reed just chugged his beer.
Storm was like an open book to me. I had always been able to read her real mood through that layer of bullshit she hid beneath.
I called her out on that, too, and she despised me for it.
Reed did the same, but from him, she took it.
No shock there then. Bumping uglies had been on both their agendas for years.
Fuck knew why they didn’t just get on with it.
As far as the world was concerned, Storm Summers had it all, but I knew differently. She was just as screwed up as the rest of us. And we were similar in so many ways, not that I would ever admit that to anyone on the planet.
We got drunk together one night at a beach party, and her guard dropped.
The real Storm was so much more interesting as a person than the fabricated version.
Since then, she hadn't been able to look me in the eye for long, like she regretted the burst of humanity; that baring of her soul.
It wasn't like I would tell anyone what she'd divulged.
If someone told me something in confidence, I'd take that fucker to the grave.
Being trustworthy was an important quality that I expected in both my family and my friends.
There was also the fact that I was wasted that night and could only remember half of what she had told me. Marrying well was in there somewhere.
“Well, what do you think?” Storm said with a sweep of her arm.
“Stop fishing, Teacup,” Reed replied dryly.
“I gave you a peace offering, remember? So, you need to be nice,” she pouted, pointing toward his fucking ‘cardy’ with one long painted finger nail.
“This is me, being nice. The house looks awesome as usual,” he added with an amused expression. Peace offering indeed. It seemed Storm was trying to transform my brother into someone her father might approve of.
Never going to happen. Reed would be considered foster scum in the mayor’s eyes. He would have to Jedi mind-trick the motherfucker to make Storm’s father see him as anything else.
“Thanks. I’ll give you a tour if you like.” Yeah, like he didn’t already know the way to her bedroom like the back of his hand.
“Yeah. That’d be cool.”
I snorted, not feeling it. I couldn’t be bothered with their lying bullshit. I didn’t get why they thought they had to put on an act for my sake.
"What's the matter with you, Brutal?" Storm sneered, narrowing her eyes at me.
I shrugged, "Nothing."
"Yeah, you might want to tell your face that then, Nix. You look like you want to rip someone's arms off." She wasn’t wrong. I was about five seconds away from kicking Cash Ryan’s ass.
"He always looks like that. That’s why we call him Brutal," Reed pointed out.
"Has someone upset you?" she questioned. Storm was wearing a floral number and a hat big enough to shelter the poor. “If they have, I’d rather you tell me so we can nip any drama in the bud. Daddy has security here and won’t settle for anyone fighting.”
"Stop being paranoid, woman, I'm fine. So, you can relax, I ain't doing shit to mess up your little party. And nobody here has the power to upset me."
"Bullshit!" Reed coughed into his hand.
I ground my teeth as Storm fanned her face with an eye roll and glanced past me. I watched as her expression shifted from mild curiosity to one of surprise. Reed also followed the direction of her gaze, and I knew they were looking at Harper. My entire body stiffened.
"Wow, Harper looks amazing," Storm cooed, dropping her hand to her side. It was the first nice thing I had ever heard her say about another female. Miracles did exist.
"I have to agree with you. Our little sister looks smoking," Reed added with a nod. “Phoenix thinks so, too. Ain’t that so, Brutal?”