Chapter 19
For once, I’ve gotten under her skin to the point that she doesn’t have some witty response. No snarky quip. No smart-mouthed jab. Just silence. Olivia Lovelace, who always has something to say, is speechless. Sometimes, she just needs to be put in her place.
I’ll admit though, if I said it didn’t bother me watching her walk away wounded from my own harsh words, I’d be full of shit.
It sits in my stomach like a stone, a weight I pretend not to notice.
But the second I saw her leaning into Trent, all soft and smiley, I lost it.
Of all people, Trent? That’s who gets the special treatment?
I scrub a hand down my face and shake my head, snapping my attention back to the present. Rafe is still staring at me, seething. His jaw clenched so hard I can hear his teeth grind. He hasn’t said anything since I laid into Morella. But he’s boiling. I can feel it radiating off him in waves.
Archer, on the other hand, dude’s out cold. Slumped back in the chair, hood pulled low, breathing steady. Of course he can sleep through all of this. How convenient.
I glance back toward where Liv walked off, past the glowing embers of the fire pit and into the shadows between rows of crumbling headstones.
She’s alone now, tucked away in some darker corner of the cemetery, swallowed by the trees and fog.
My eyes track her silhouette until she disappears behind one of the mausoleums.
Oh, the things I would do to her in the dark.
Before I can get too far into that thought, a sound breaks the air like a snap.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Rafe mutters under his breath.
I follow his line of sight. A cluster of voices and perfume floats our way on the breeze. The Populars. Of course.
“God, what a dumb name,” I mutter, not realizing I said it aloud.
“You got that right,” Rafe replies.
Maddison leads the pack like always, perfect blowout, fake smile, and confidence dialed up to a hundred. She makes a beeline straight for Rafe and plops down beside him, her thigh brushing his. Her manicured hand lands on his leg like it belongs there.
A muscle jumps in his cheek, but he doesn’t move.
Swatting her away only makes her cling harder.
Victoria and the other girl, I seriously cannot remember her name, drift in behind her.
One sinks into the seat beside Rafe, posture all calculated and catty.
The other slides into the empty space on the log near Archer, eyeing him like a meal.
When did Bryce leave?
Victoria’s doing that weird intense stare thing, like she can will Archer awake with sheer desperation.
The unknown girl, maybe Claire? Chloe? Keeps sneaking glances at me through her lashes like she thinks it’s seductive.
A few weeks ago, I might’ve let her try.
But now? Now there’s only one girl I care about.
I flick my gaze past her, scanning the party again.
No sign of Liv where I last saw her. My pulse kicks up a notch.
I look farther out, across the firelight, past the dancing bodies, toward the parking lot.
That’s when I spot Trent, weaving through the crowd like he doesn’t have a single care in the world.
And just ahead of him, Liv. Her hair catches in the moonlight, bouncing with each step.
She stops and turns. Her face lights up with that smile.
The one that burns through me like gasoline on an open flame.
“Ugh…” The sound tears out of me.
“What now?” Rafe groans like he already knows the answer.
He follows my gaze. His shoulders sag when he spots her too.
“Dude, not this again,” he says. “Drop it, man. She’s just a girl.”
“No, she’s not.” My voice is low, tight. “She’s my girl.”
“Might wanna tell her that,” comes a groggy mumble from under Archer’s hood. Victoria looks personally offended that he didn’t wake up for her.
Something inside me snaps. I’m on my feet, and I think I might’ve knocked the chair over. The blonde next to Rafe leans toward me, and places her hand on my thigh, her nails digging in slightly. “I could be your girl,” she says, voice all breathy and sweet like a porn line gone wrong.
My eyes are already drifting past her. Back to Liv. Trent’s way too fucking close.
Maddison chimes in, smug as ever. “You have a perfectly good blonde on her knees for you. Are you really going to go chase after some nobody?”
She’s threading her fingers through Rafe’s hair now, and I can see it, he’s about ten seconds from losing his shit on this girl. His nostrils flare. He’s white-knuckling the log under his palms.
I’ve had enough. I grab the blonde by her wrists and haul her to her feet. She gasps but she clearly thinks it’s foreplay. “Courtney, is it?” I say, eyes flicking once, only once, to her cleavage. Nothing. No spark.
“My name’s Chelsea,” she whispers, hopeful.
“Yeah, I really don’t care,” I tighten my grip just enough to make a point and lean in. “Go take your bottle blonde head and bob it on someone else’s cock. Mine’s busy.”
I let her go and she stumbles back, eyes wide and fake lashes fluttering like she can’t tell if she’s turned on or humiliated.
Behind me, I hear Archer groan. “Jesus Christ…”
“Nope. Just let him go,” Rafe replies, his voice low and tired. Finally something clever comes out of his mouth tonight.
I’m already walking, cutting through the crowd like a knife.
I see them, just near the old chapel wall, where the shadows fall thick and the stones are slick with moss.
He’s leaned in close, too close, his drink hovering near her chest. My fists clench.
Then she sees me. Her eyes lock with mine and for the briefest moment, fear.
Good. She should know exactly what I’m capable of.
Trent straightens, noticing the shift in the air. He doesn’t look nervous. If anything, he looks curious.
“What do you want?” Liv’s voice cuts through the tension, sharp but shaky.
I let my smirk curl, stepping in. “Well, I saw your delightful expression with Trent here, so I decided to come join the conversation too. I wanna have fun.”
Trent raises his hands, one still holding his cup. “We were just chatting, man.” He shrugs like it’s nothing. “I could use another smoke anyway. See you around, Liv. Always good to chat.”
He shoots her a grin and disappears back into the chaos. Liv shakes her head, the fire in her eyes dimmed now. “Seriously, Silas? I saw you with Chelsea. Why are you even bothering with me?”
She starts to turn. Like she’s gonna walk away again. Not this time. I move without thinking. My arm snakes around her waist, yanking her back, and I press her gently but firmly into the cold stone of the chapel. My arms cage her in, palms flat on the wall beside her head.
Her breathing goes ragged.
“Silas…” she whispers, squirming. I’m not even touching her, not really. But her body reacts all the same.
“Whoa, whoa, WHOA! Silas, what are you doing?” Morella’s voice cuts through like a slap, and I feel her tugging on my arm, but she’s not strong enough. Then she’s gone. I blink and spot Rafe with her tossed over his shoulder, shouting profanities and kicking like a demon. Good boy.
I return my focus to Liv. Sweat beads along her collarbone, just below the neck of her sweater. Her chest rises and falls, rising faster the longer I stand there. I swallow, my throat dry. My eyes trail the curve of her jaw, the pink flush blooming beneath her skin.
“Silas… you need to move.”
I don’t. Instead I lean in. I let my nose trace the hollow of her throat and inhale deep. Mmm. Sweet and minty. Is this what had Archer so on edge? I don’t blame him if it is. Her pulse pounds under her skin like a war drum.
“You’re flushed, Liv,” I whisper, voice raspy. I let my breath dance over her neck, dragging my nose along the soft path just beneath her ear. “Are you afraid of me… or is it something else?”
Her hair brushes my cheek. It’s soft, like silk. She squirms again so I step back, because I’m a gentleman. Sort of.
That’s when I see it. Her thighs clamped tight, her lips bitten red, eyes shut and cheeks flushed to hell.
I smirk.
“Oh, Princess. You shouldn’t have shown me all of this.”
Her eyes snap open, dazed. I reach out and run my thumb gently across her bottom lip. Her eyes flutter momentarily, then I turn and walk away, pulse pounding.