Pretty Broken Butterfly (Stitched Hearts #1)

Can Anyone Join This Party?

Charlie | The Past

I should have caught the warning signs flashing in the cruel smirks of the queen bees as I searched for Keaton. Their delighted replies that he was off with Rianna were another alarm I ignored.

But why would I?

For four years, they’ve made being vicious their brand of cool. I figured this was just another episode in their endless series.

"Come on, Char. Let's go find him," Amelia yells, grabbing my hand and pulling me away from them.

Amelia knows me well enough to sense when my anger is about to boil over. Even the nicest people snap eventually, and these girls are pushing me to the edge.

We push through a sea of writhing bodies and stumbling drunks, leaving the tension of the hallway behind. The floor pulses with the music’s bass, luring me to lose control, but Amelia tugs me along before I can surrender. Black lights have transformed the house into a surreal neon wonderland.

Passing the game room, the sweet, skunky haze of weed curls into my nose—a forbidden treat I don’t get to sample tonight.

"Hey." I yank my hand, pulling us to a stop. "You said I'm supposed to be letting loose and having fun. Why do you keep pulling me away from all the good shit?"

"So we can find your boy."

I roll my eyes. "You heard them. He’s with Rianna. As usual. He knows I’m here—I texted him the second we arrived. Keaton will show up when his clingy friend finally lets go."

Everything I say tastes bitter. Even I can’t ignore it now.

Rianna became a problem the moment she and Keaton got close last year.

At first, I didn’t care. That changed two months in, when I saw the way she looked at him.

I called Keaton out, but he just laughed it off, insisting I was imagining things.

That stung, and I made sure he knew it. He apologized, and I believed he meant it, so I let it go.

But soon after, she started making those sharp little comments, always disguised as jokes.

She’d call me insecure, say I was jealous because I couldn’t believe a guy and girl could just be friends.

The worst was when she’d joke about loving him, which told me Keaton had confessed what I’d said.

Things got tense between us for weeks. I knew it hurt him, too, but he was the one who put us here.

Then one morning, he pulled me close in bed, apologized, and promised to make it right.

To give him credit, he did. Or at least he tried.

He wouldn't hang out with Rianna as much, and their conversations became less frequent. We were good again. We were the Charlie and Keaton that we used to be, and our relationship only got stronger.

Months later, she turned up at our place in tears, apologizing and swearing she never meant to make me feel replaced.

She claimed she had no feelings for him.

A lie I saw right through, but I let her talk.

Rianna insisted Keaton loved me too much for anyone to come between us, that I was all he talked about.

Against my instincts, after talking with Keaton, I let them hang out again.

He’s never given me a real reason to doubt him, never shown any signs he wants more than friendship with her.

Unless he’s a master at hiding it. She saves her attitude for when he’s not around, and I refuse to give her the satisfaction of telling him.

That’s what she wants. He hasn’t taken her side since, and he always puts me first. I wish he’d pick a different best friend, but it’s not my place to control him.

"Fuck that bitch." Amelia's lips pull back from her teeth into a snarl. "Let's go take him away from her because we both know once he sees you, he's going to forget all about her for the rest of the night."

I sigh and stride ahead, fully aware Amelia won’t rest until she gets what she wants.

After searching everywhere inside the house, we spill out into the backyard. The shift from the packed rooms to the open air is jarring. The pool is packed. Some people naked, some half-dressed, but most still in clothes. The air reeks of spilt booze and abandoned bottles.

"Yo, Char. Looking good, babe. You two go grab some swimsuits from the pool house and join us."

Something in David’s eyes makes my skin crawl, but Amelia’s excited squeal tells me resistance is pointless. I force a tight smile and nod.

David Baladucci is campus royalty, rich enough to burn cash for fun and never run out.

People orbit him, hungry for a taste of his world, and he loves every second.

Teachers pass him to keep their jobs, and the dean lets him do whatever he wants.

He’s cocky, insufferable, and convinced he can have any girl he wants with a flash of that wicked grin.

Annoyingly, he’s usually right. Only a few girls have dodged him—me and Amelia included, though it doesn’t stop him from trying.

My long relationship with Keaton means nothing to him.

He’s not evil, just a world-class asshole, and we’re always trading jabs.

"Come on, Amelia. Keaton will find me. He always does. Let's get changed, join the rest of them, and fucking party."

The pool scene blurs behind us as we head toward the pool house. A nervous tingle sparks in my chest as we cross the yard, passing couples hooking up wherever they can. David’s parties are always wild as hell.

Fiery pain streaks through my jaw as I chew the inside of my cheek, nerves buzzing.

But there's something running through me.

Something I'm unable to identify.

Where the hell is Keaton?

My fingers drum against my thigh, syncing with the relentless bass thumping through the house.

As we reach the pool house, I pull open the door and the noise inside hits me. "Dude, someone who has never been here before would swear they've walked straight into a porno," I exclaim when I catch the loud moans from inside.

Amelia laughs and trails after me, but she collides into my back when I freeze in the doorway.

My heart thuds slow and heavy, making every breath a struggle.

I tilt my head, straining to listen, digging my nails into my palms to anchor myself.

That groan.

My head swings side to side as my chest collapses inward. Heat floods my face while I fight back the tears burning in my eyes.

He wouldn't. There's no way he would.

I flinch at Amelia’s touch on my shoulder, dragging in a jagged breath that barely squeezes through my constricted throat.

"Char, what's going on?" she whispers, as if she already knows but doesn't want to admit it.

The groan comes again, and my body jolts.

Shaking my head, my eyes glued to the room beyond us I've yet to see into, I take a step back as my feet urge me to run.

Amelia's fingers tighten on my shoulder, and she leans down to my ear.

"Not yet. Don't you dare break yet. Remember who the fuck you are, Char.

You've stood up to people who have tried to hurt you all your life.

This isn't any different. Straighten your damn spine, confront them, and then.

..then I'll get you out of here and hold you while you break. "

As she speaks, my eyes close and my body goes numb. Emptiness seeps into my bones until I’m nothing but a hollow shell, and he’s the reason why.

They're the reason.

Because there is only one person who would be in there with him.

I straighten my spine and nod, letting her know I’m ready. The moans crash against the frozen wall inside me, but they can’t break through.

Rianna's maliciously triumphant eyes clash with mine as soon as I clear the open doorway. Her legs are wrapped around his waist as he anchors her against the wall. Keaton thrusts into her brutally, his face buried in her neck, his hands holding onto her ass.

She smirks, running her fingers through his hair, and lets out an exaggerated moan. "Yeah, baby. Just like that. You like fucking my pussy, don't you, baby?"

"Shut up," he mutters, his hips never easing up.

No chance I could confuse that voice with anyone else. That’s definitely my boyfriend fucking someone who isn't me.

One day, when I’m less broken and more open to feelings, maybe I’ll recall this moment—standing so still and calm, even as the chaos around me shifts the course of the night.

Her eyes narrow at the casual way I lean against the wall and smirk back. Amelia takes up a place on the other side, and we both watch as my boyfriend rams his dick into someone who isn't me.

I've been intimate with this fucking asshole since we were sixteen, so I can read his body language and know when he's about to find his release.

Oh, no, honey. That ain't going to happen.

"Tell me, can anyone join this party, or is it two people only?" I drawl.