CHAPTER 2
CASHTON
Landry fucking Andrews. I had known who she was the moment her bleach blonde ponytail had swished its way up to us earlier. I loathed the way my dick had hardened as her baby blues had roamed over me. And it took every ounce of my energy to shove out the mental images of what those glossy lips would look like with my cock shoved between them.
But I had to wrestle my mind into submission and ignore the way my body betrayed me—because Landry Andrews was everything I despised. It didn’t matter how her sun-kissed skin looked in that barely-there white bikini or how the glint of that damn belly ring seemed to dare me to stare. None of that mattered. What mattered was the fire burning in my chest, the unrelenting need to make her suffer, to make her life as miserable as she’d made mine—whether she realized it or not.
I bet she thought this was her big fresh start, the hope shining in her wide eyes as she laughed and mingled with my friends. She looked so sure of herself, so perfectly poised in her little act of innocence. But I wasn’t buying it. I knew Landry Andrews. Maybe I hadn’t met her before today, but I’d felt the ripple effects of her existence in ways she couldn’t begin to understand. And there was no way in hell that I’d let her worm her way into the tight-knit group I called my family. Not now. Not ever.
A shiver ran down my spine as I recalled the sight of her, laughing carefree in the hot tub with the others and her petite redheaded friend.
Living it up, as though she hadn’t caused my family unimaginable pain. The irony was almost laughable—she probably had no idea. That only made it sweeter because it meant she wouldn’t see me coming. Exactly the way I wanted it. Vengeance, after all, was a dish best served cold.
She wasn’t sorry, but she would be. Landry Andrews had taken the most important thing in my life away from me, and it was time someone knocked her off that gilded pedestal she perched so high on. And nothing would give me greater satisfaction than being the one to do it.