Chapter 1 #2
I shared that song on my socials the other day and he sent me a song lyric. If I ever doubted whether he pays attention, that last message proved it.
The strange feeling in my chest comes back, that odd warmth I feel when he messages.
I rub the spot, staring at his words before setting my phone down to get dressed.
He’s not worth my energy, even though I’ve never opened my Spotify so quickly in my life just to check a lyric. It’s not cute, is it? Or romantic?
Ugh. Stop. He hasn’t messaged me since then. So why am I thinking about him? This is for the best.
Five minutes later, I’m shimmying into my denim shorts when Rain starts banging on the bedroom door.
“Come on, guuuurl. Stop masturbating. We’re going out.”
“Chill, will ya?” I say as I pull on a tank top and tie my hair up on my way to the door.
The moment it opens, she thrusts a shot into my hand and tells me to drink it. “Everyone’s heading down to the cliffs to party.”
It’s a popular party spot for young people from the Falls. Misty and secluded, it’s the perfect place to get drunk and hook up with strangers. But I don’t plan on becoming tomorrow’s latest gossip.
“There’s our girl,” Rain shouts as Summer exits her room. She wobbles over to her in her tall heels and leather dress. “Now it’s a party.”
Waves crash against the cliffs below. I take another sip of my lukewarm beer to chase away the chill in the air.
Maybe I won’t feel it if I get sufficiently drunk.
I left my jacket at home and I regret it now that the sun has set and the temperature has dropped.
The sea breeze brings a sharp chill to the air.
Thankfully, a bonfire sends sparks into the night sky.
I watch the crackling flames, then look up at the stars above.
Around us, trucks are parked in a semi-circle with people drinking and smoking weed on the flatbeds.
One couple is having sex, semi-hidden by a blanket, while others are dancing or talking.
Chris cups his mouth and shouts my name. I turn my head over my shoulder. He’s lounging with my friends on foldable camping chairs where they sit with beers in hand while passing a joint around. Summer and Rain are on the flatbed, the latter half asleep, her head resting on Summer’s shoulder.
I walk away from the heat. Jackson pulls me onto his lap, and my brother scowls and tells me to get off. I don’t like being told what to do so I stay put just to piss him off.
It works.
He reaches over to Malice, rips the joint from his lips and takes a long drag.
Malice raises an eyebrow and looks at him with that terrifying expression of his, as if he’s considering how to pull my brother’s organs out of his body.
You can never tell with Malice because that’s his usual expression. The guy doesn’t know how to smile.
Chris jiggles his knee as he scans the crowd gathered around the bonfire. Jackson’s cousin Sam hands me a beer from the crate beside his chair, and Jackson uncaps it with his teeth. “Here you go, sunshine.”
Another murderous glare from my brother, and he points a finger. “Cut that shit or I’ll cut you, understood? She’s my sister.”
Jackson’s chest shakes with suppressed laughter. He loves nothing more than to wind my brother up. No one can blame him. It’s too easy to bait Chris. All it takes is a look for him to snap.
The boys talk about the upcoming race at Dark Lanes. I listen with half an ear as I sip my beer, still sitting on Jackson’s lap. Among my brother’s friends, he’s the one I’m closest to.
Malice is impossible to get to know, not only because he’s hostile to nearly everyone but also because he communicates through grunts and stares. Sometimes he’ll watch you until you squirm like a worm on a hook. Very few can stay still under his scrutiny.
Rain and her brother are complete opposites in looks and personality. It’s easy to forget they’re siblings.
Jackson fishes his phone out of his hoodie pocket and makes a call while I settle in with my head on his shoulder.
Rowdy laughter drifts on the breeze. Someone squeals on the flatbed beside ours.
Jackson chuckles at the guy on the other end of the line, shifting slightly beneath me as he pulls his hood up over his brow.
The fabric smells of salt from the sea, a hint of smoke, and a sharp splash of cologne.
I’ve never been attracted to him that way, but he smells good.
I snuggle closer, watching a group of girls dance in their underwear near the bonfire.
Malice lights a cigarette and gazes up at the stars as if he’s contemplating life. For someone everyone fears, he sure seems wistful sometimes.
Rain has shifted. She’s on her side now, her head in Summer’s lap. My sister runs her fingers through the purple strands, just like our mother used to do with us when we were kids.
Sometimes I can see so much of Mom in her.
And sometimes I envy that.
Jackson pulls me out of my thoughts when he raises his phone and tells me to smile. My lips curve automatically as he snaps a picture of us. He uploads it to his social media and then slips his phone away before tapping my hip.
I stand and rub my arms now that I don’t have Jackson’s warmth to keep me comfortable. The half-naked girls by the bonfire don’t seem to notice the cold, but I definitely do. Part of that is probably because I pushed myself hard earlier.
Jackson unzips his hoodie and drapes it over my shoulders, wrapping me in the scent of wood smoke and sea salt. I slide my hands into the sleeves and turn to thank him, but he’s already gone.
The party is still in full swing. It will be hours before it winds down for the night. I glance toward the others.
Chris sits with his elbows braced on his thighs, scratching at the corner of his mouth, brows furrowed in concentration. Or maybe disapproval. It’s hard to tell with him. A freshly rolled joint glows orange between his fingers as he listens to Sam talk.
My brother’s friend has a brunette perched on his lap in a revealing dress. They’re probably planning to share her later, but I don’t ask questions. No one really understands their dynamic.
And I don’t want to.
Ugh. Gross. I’d rather drink bleach than think about my brother’s sex life. Unfortunately, I don’t have to imagine it. I hear enough.
We seriously need soundproof walls.
I walk over to the edge of the cliff, the sea breeze whipping my hair around my face. Below, choppy waves crash against the rocks, but it’s too dark to see the water from up here, and the thought sends shivers up my spine.
Lost souls have jumped from this cliff, plunging into the dark depths below. They say you die on impact, but who’s to say that’s true. Maybe they were conscious when they hit the surface.
Maybe they felt every excruciating snap of bone. Maybe they were still awake when icy cold seawater flooded their burning lungs. And maybe, just maybe, they wished they hadn’t jumped.
“Creepy,” a voice says beside me, and I nearly jump out of my skin.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you,” the guy adds, and I step back from the edge. I recognize him. Our town isn’t big, so chances are I’ve seen him around before.
He leans slightly over the edge, and my heart pounds harder. “Even if you survive the initial impact, the next wave would slam you into the cliff face and knock you out.”
I glance back toward the bonfire. We aren’t far from the others, but I doubt we’re visible from here. The glow doesn’t reach this far.
“You’re not thinking of jumping, are you?” he asks, straightening.
My head whips back around. “No, of course not.”
“Phew.” An easy grin spreads across his lips. He wipes the back of his hand across his forehead, pretending to be relieved.
Thick curls of dark hair shift in the breeze.
He runs his fingers through them, trying to tame the windswept strands, but it’s a lost cause.
He’s attractive, standing at a shorter height with a lean build and brown skin.
He’s dressed simply in a loose white T-shirt that flaps against his chest in the sea breeze and black cargo pants.
“You had me worried there for a second. I didn’t want to have to jump in after you.”
My lips twitch. “Are you quoting Titanic?”
He lifts one shoulder, stepping closer with an easy charm Kane wouldn’t have.
Kane? Why am I thinking of him now?
“It felt fitting.”
He’s closer now, his curly dark hair a wild tangle at the mercy of the sea spray. I’m no better off. My hair lashes my face, and I tuck it behind my ears, but it doesn’t stay there for long.
Soon enough, it’s teasing my cheek again.
“You’re Holt’s sister, right?”
“That’s me in the flesh. Sorry, I don’t know your name.”
I feel more relaxed now. He doesn’t seem like someone who would throw women off cliffs.
“It’s cool,” he says with a shrug and an easy smile. “I’m Omari.”
He extends his hand like a gentleman, and we shake. I’m smiling now. He is too, but I can’t shake the feeling that I’m doing something wrong. I’m not. Kane isn’t my boyfriend. Besides, he hasn’t contacted me in days.
My insides twist into a tight knot as Omari talks while we walk along the cliff, away from the party.
We stop by a cluster of trees. Omari leans back against one of the trunks and tells me about watching my brother race down at Dark Lanes. His Adam’s apple bobs as he shakes his head and stares up at the sky. “I hope to race against the best someday.”
That pulls me out of my thoughts of Kane. “Why don’t you?”
He drags his gaze down from the stars and looks at me. Really looks at me. “I will one day. If I can get the scrap metal in my garage working first.”
“My brother works at Bleakmoor Auto Repair,” I say. “Why don’t you bring it in for him to have a look at?”
He goes distant, running his tongue over his bottom lip. He’s looking at me, but he isn’t really seeing me. Then he sighs, like he’s scolding himself, and turns his attention back to the sea. “Money’s tight right now.”
My heart squeezes at that. Money’s a problem for all of us in the Falls.
“Speaking of money…” He straightens. “Word on the street is that your brother is looking to recruit.”
“Recruit?”
A frown pulls my brows together. My phone buzzes in my pocket, but I ignore it.
Omari leans in closer. “To help with the shipments.”
The color drains from my face. I can feel it. What shipments?
I shake my head in denial, barely registering his fingers on my cheekbone. Chris wouldn’t do anything stupid. He wouldn’t get pulled into that mess. He knows better.
“Will you put in a good word for me? He knows who I am.”
I lift my gaze to his face. We’re close. Much closer than I realized.
“Or don’t,” he murmurs, his breath feathering over my lips.
And then he kisses me.