Prologue #2
Because you’ve been so open and told her about Ross? Talked about your grief with her? About how some nights, your parents’ charred bodies come to you in nightmares?
No, you haven’t. The only person you open up to is Barclay, if at all.
Shoving guilt aside, I blink the world back into focus.
Elowyn remains there, studying me.
Tempting me.
I have to be stronger. Can’t hug her when I’m like this.
“Seriously, what?” I demand, unable to push my obsessive thoughts aside.
She steps closer, somehow growing surer of herself. “Seriously rude.”
Elowyn doesn’t even tremble as she pushes a few dark strands of my hair off my forehead. I, on the other hand, have to suppress a groan of pleasure.
“Rude, huh?” I grit out between clenched teeth.
“Yes.” She nods. “I asked you a question, and you’re ignoring me.”
Ignoring her.
Ignoring. Her.
Like that could ever happen.
Especially now that she’s near. With the ghost of her fingers on my hair.
Nothing else exists but this girl.
Me, I’m only alive because I’m talking to Elowyn.
The longer I stand in the hall with her, the thinner my restraint stretches. It’s as tight as a wire about to snap.
And that’s a problem.
“Elowyn…”
She doesn’t listen, reaching for one of the sand streaks on my T-shirt. Her fingertips hover, her eyes flickering back to my face. Worried. Compassionate.
Mine.
Once the word is planted in my head, there’s no taking it back.
No controlling my urges.
I curl a hand around one of her wrists. With the other, I grip her chin, and Jesus, she’s so smooth. Warm. Trembling too.
“Are you okay?” She’s blinking furiously now. Red creeps up her throat as I lean in until I level my face with hers. “Do you, um, need help?”
“Yes, little moon.” Our noses almost touch. Her breath is hot on my mouth. “I do need help.”
“Oh.” Her cheeks flush brighter at the nickname I call her when it’s just the two of us. Just me and those gray eyes that never fail to shine through my shitty existence. “Is there something I can do?”
“Actually, there is. See, I thought I’d gotten what I wanted tonight.” Leaning in, I bury my fingers in her chin, loving how she gasps for me. “I was wrong. Something’s still missing. One thing I can’t have.”
“What’s that?”
We’re so close that her soft lips brush mine when she talks. Her fingers press to my jaw, the light touch short-circuiting my brain.
That’s probably why I don’t think. Don’t even care that Barclay is down the hall. Don’t give a fuck that I’m a murderer.
My instincts take over. I tilt my head, slide my hand to her throat, and crush my mouth to hers.
Fuck me, I’m kissing Elowyn. Finally taking what’s mine.
She stiffens, but I don’t let it stop me. I tighten my grip on her neck until—yes, fuck—her lips part for me.
It takes me way too long to register that she’s kissing me back. That her tongue is searching, her lips hesitant. But she’s kissing me.
The thought that I might be her first kiss drives me even crazier.
Months of wanting, of waiting, explode within me all at once. Heat punches through my chest. My entire body comes alive.
I’m stripped of my pain, my doubts.
I’m hers.
“Duncan,” she murmurs when I change the angle so I can dive deeper into her mouth. When I absorb these little moans and tentative licks. “Duncan.”
My name on her lips, it wrecks me. It saves me. Her fingers thread into my hair, tugging and yanking me closer.
I only break the kiss so I can look at her. With our foreheads pressed together, the world shrinks until there’s nothing but us.
“Elowyn,” I whisper, because I have to. Have to say her name as I have in my darkest, wettest dreams. “Little moon.”
“I’ve wanted this—” she starts to say breathily.
Doesn’t finish.
A hand fists the back of my collar, tearing me off Elowyn. “Motherfucker.”
“Leave him alone!” she hisses, glowering at Barclay behind me, her lips red and swollen from our kiss. “Let him go.”
“Like hell.”
“Barclay—”
“Shut up.” Turning me around, he switches his grip to the front of my shirt.
I let him.
It’s either that, or he takes his anger out on her.
No one’s hurting Elowyn. No. One.
“Go to bed, Elowyn,” I repeat what I told her earlier.
The last word is barely out of my mouth when Barclay slams me up against the wall. His parents must’ve taken their painkillers tonight, or they’d hear all of this.
“You touched my sister,” he seethes, the vein in his neck bulging. “You, of all people, touched my fucking sister. You don’t deserve her. I should kill you for it.”
You, of all people.
Me, what?
His best friend or…
The poor orphan?
Shame tastes bitter on my tongue.
But—no, it can’t be that either. I think.
Money was never an issue. Barclay never cared about that.
Maybe—
“Barclay, stop it right this minute.” She rushes to us, cutting through my thoughts. Her delicate hand wraps around Barclay’s wrist. “It’s not his fault. I wanted it.”
“Shut up.” His whisper is full of venom. “We took him in, and he put his filthy hands on you?”
“Listen to me,” I tell her. “I’ve got this. Go.”
Her chin quivers. “He’s going to kill you.”
“No, he won’t,” I lie. After what I witnessed tonight, there’s no telling with Barclay.
“He’s right.” A smirk stretches across his face. “I don’t plan on killing him…yet.”
Something evil twists his features as he looks at me.
This can’t be good. She can’t be here for this, whatever this is.
“I promise you.” Since he already hates me, I don’t see the harm in touching her. My hand finds hers, a balm to my fucked-up soul. “We’ll talk in the morning.”
That was obviously the wrong thing to say, since Barclay slams me against the wall again.
She shrieks, squeezing my hand tighter. “I won’t leave you.”
“You’re not leaving; you’re just going to bed.” I cough. “I’ll be right here in the morning.”
“Aren’t you two sweet.” Barclay’s spittle lands on my face.
“Barclay, please…” she begs, eyes watery. “Stop it.”
“Leave,” both he and I snap.
Her brow furrows as she considers this, before groaning, “Fine.”
One last look of longing and a silent I’m sorry, and she disappears, slamming the door to her bedroom.
“Barc, I can explain.”
“Don’t give a fuck about your explanations.” He’s in my face, breath labored. “You’re never coming near my sister ever again.”
“I turn eighteen in three weeks, then I’ll get out of your hair.
” Now that she isn’t around to take the brunt of his anger, I push him off me.
“I’ll move out, but I’m not staying away.
I want her. I’ve wanted her for months. And apparently, she wants me back.
When she’s eighteen, when the time is right, we’ll be together. ”
“You sonofabitch…” He raises a hand to punch me.
I shove at his chest again, sending him stumbling backward. “There’s no one better for Elowyn out there, and you know it.” I flatten a hand over my heart. “No one else for me, period.”
“Stop lying.” Baring his teeth like a rabid dog, he growls, “You had a girlfriend last year. Your neighbor or something.”
“It was a mistake.” One I recognized the moment Elowyn became something more to me. “Elowyn isn’t, nor will she ever be. I was an idiot not to see it sooner. Not anymore. She’s it for me. You’re wasting your breath if you think you can keep us apart.”
His nostrils flare. “Is that so?”
“It is.”
“I wonder, though.” He takes a few menacing steps forward until we’re eye to eye. “How do you plan to be with her after I pin Ross’s death on you? After they lock you up for the rest of your miserable life?”
“What are you talking about?” Ice shoots up my spine. My fingers flex as if I’ve been zapped. “We did it together. You can’t frame me if you’ve been there too.”
“You’re forgetting one thing. I’m a Montgomery.
You’re just a…Rourke. A nobody.” He cracks his neck, smugness rolling off him.
“So. If you don’t get the hell out of New York now, trust that I’m going to use my power.
Go straight to the cops and tell them where Ross’s remains are.
Say you bragged about burying him on my family’s property.
How you took out your parents’ killer. You could try to fight it, but who are they going to believe?
A penniless nobody with a motive, or the son of a real estate mogul? ”
His words hurt more than a gut punch. My world spins, my stomach churning.
My best friend. The guy I trusted with every secret, every plan. Now he’s dangling this ultimatum over my head like I’m nothing.
Like I’m disposable.
And that threat isn’t empty. He’s right. One word from him, and I’ll rot in a cell, away from her. Years would pass, maybe forever, and before I knew it, she’d forget all about me.
Forget our kiss.
Forget us.
I can’t let that happen. Can’t let go of her when I’ve finally had her.
Leaving on my own, as much as I hate that idea, will have to do for now.
Whatever. It’s just a minor setback. I’m sure it won’t be long before she seeks me out anyway. If she really is mine, she’ll text me. She’ll let me know she’s chosen me. Us.
If I text first, she might tell Barclay, or it might slip. So I need her to make the first move. Which she will.
Walking away for a few days before we’re talking again is a small price to pay.
“You know what? Fine.” I scowl, then stalk off to the sound of his laughter at my back.
“You have ten minutes to pack up and get the hell out of my house,” he whispers, probably so Elowyn won’t overhear him.
I let his cruelty settle, filing it away like ammo.
He might be stronger. Richer. More influential.
But he’s not smarter.
I will get my revenge.
I will have Elowyn.
Soon.
Any fucking day now.