Chapter 1
Claremore, Ok
Fourteen Years Ago
Marley
“Here, I have a pin. Turn around.” Wren twirls her finger in the air as she digs in her clutch with her other hand, head down, trying to see in the dark bathroom.
I spin around and faced the mirror, leaning in to swipe my fingers under my eyes. It took me two hours to get my makeup just right, I watched so many tutorials to try to get the perfect smokey eye and I’m not going to let a little sweat from dancing make it run.
Opening my clutch, I pull my lip gloss out and swipe some along my bottom lip.
Wren starts to tug on the broken strap on my dress, tucking it into the hem along my back to pin it.
The short sequined strappy dress clung to all my curves and didn’t accentuate my bubble butt like most of the other dresses I tried on.
“You should take this dress back tomorrow, it cost way too much for a broken strap after just three songs. We haven’t even had anything to drink yet.” The safety pin she’s holding between her lips while she uses her hands to tuck the strap is muffling her voice.
Tracing my bottom lip with my pinkie to make sure my lip gloss is even, I stretch my lip taut over my teeth. “No shit. Not to mention that it cost a small fortune, and Opal had to drive me to ten different stores to find it.”
She looks at me in the mirror through her lashes and a shit-eating grin slices across her face when she pulls the pin out of her mouth. “I saw Ricky watching you when we were dancing before we came in here.”
The same shit-eating grin splits my face, and I cock a brow. “I know. I was looking at him back. It’s about time, too, I’ve been flirting my ass off for months trying to get him to do something besides smile and give me a chin lift in the hall.”
“If you didn’t have a neon sign over your head that says ‘Mason Harlow’s sister’, he probably would have made a move sooner.” She says with a chuckle, her head ducking behind me to get closer to see better.
In such a small school, it’s impossible to not know who everyone is, who they’re related to, and maybe even
With a huff, I roll my eyes and look at her in the mirror.
“I know, right? I can’t seem to get more than a couple of dates once Mason finds out I’ve went out with someone.
But, I guess on the flip side, I know for sure that none of them were in it for more than a piece of ass or they would have stuck around. ”
“You sure about that? Mason probably scared the ‘stick around’ out of them.”
Leaning away from the mirror, I press my lips together and make a kissing face. “I don’t know, it’s kind of romantic to think that someone, someday, will have the balls to stand up to my brother.”
“There, fixed.” She takes a step back and looks at her handiwork. “You can’t even tell it broke.”
Turning to look over my shoulder in the mirror, I nod at her handiwork. “You know, if there’s a man out there who isn’t afraid of my brothers, he’s the man for me. This looks great, Wrenny, thanks.”
She rolls her eyes with a grin. “Such a hopeless romantic.”
Dropping my lip gloss back into my clutch, I give her a hug. “You love me anyway. I’m going to find Mason, he’s supposed to be smuggling in the drinks.”
“Oooh, I’m right behind you.”
We step from the restrooms and into the field house that has been decorated in every type and color of foil streamer known to mankind. The entire senior class is inside these walls and half of them are drunk already. I scan the crowd to see if my twin brother has made it in yet.
A sea of cowboy hats is floating around the room, but my brother is probably the only one who didn’t buy a new hat for the prom. He has been wearing the same hat for years, salt ring and all. He says it’s his lucky hat and tonight he is hoping to get lucky.
He never sees a girl for more than three dates, he says if she hasn’t put out by the third date it just means they want very different things out of their ‘friendship’. I always follow that up with a laugh and call him a slut.
Then he says, takes one to know one.
But I’ve only been with two guys. The first guy who popped my cherry didn’t really count because I was kind of just using him to get that part out of the way, he was a one and done.
I’d even picked him up at an out-of-town baseball game and did the most cliche thing I could do. I let him nail me under the bleachers.
There was no romance, no thrill, no chase. I even provided the condom. Wham bam, thank you, sir. Cherry gone and no worry about some asshole bragging to the school that he took my V card.
The other guy I thought I liked, we dated for about three months. He gave me his ring and said pretty things, but other than being fun at parties and making everyone laugh, there weren’t really any sparks. To be honest, he was kind of boring when it was just the two of us.
I finally catch sight of Mason’s nasty hat across the dance floor where he’s laughing and whooping with some of his friends. He’s obviously already been drinking, now I have to catch up.
Sidling up next to him, he looks down at me with a big smile and drapes his arm across my shoulders. “Sis! There you are, I’ve been looking for you.” He hands me his big gulp cup and my esophagus burns as the liquid that I pull through the straw slides down my throat.
“For fuck’s sake, Mason, what did you put in that? Is that straight liquor?” A cough escapes my throat, the nasty taste of whiskey on my tongue.
He just smiles and kisses my head before he whispers in my ear, “Lightweight.”
I cough again before I say, “Ugh, fuck me, that is nasty. Did you get what I asked for?”
He laughs and I jerk my head away as he tries to give me a noogie. “Hey! No! I worked on my hair for an hour to make it this perfect.”
“Fine, here.” He sets his car keys in my hand with a chuckle. “I left your bottle of girlie wine-punch in the floorboard under the passenger side.”
I look around for Wren, but she’s on the dance floor with Dustin. I’ll just go out by myself, it’ll only take a minute, I turn back to Mason. “Did you get me anything to put it in?”
“Yep, there’s a cup of ice in the cupholder.” I start to walk away, and he says, “Hey, don’t spill any of that grape juice shit on my seats.” I flip him off over my shoulder as I walk away and then he yells, “And bring my keys back, I’m grabbing my date and leaving soon.”
The parking lot next to the field house is full and I have to walk around for ten minutes trying to find Mason’s truck.
He parked in the grassy area behind the football bleachers and my heels are sinking into the soft ground.
It rained yesterday and all the cars driving around looking for places to park have only made the surface muddy.
“Fuck, I’m going to have dirt all over my heels by the time I get back in.” I mumble to myself and try to walk on my tiptoes. “Of course he wouldn’t give me a damn heads-up.”
He probably didn’t think twice about it, he’s always knee deep in dirt, horse shit, and dirty hay with his Future Farmers of America club. He doesn’t care if his boots are dirty, he can just squirt them off with the hose.
But I know if he had thought of it, he would have told me to be careful. Mason would do anything for me just as I would for him, he’s the best brother I could ask for.
Flipping through his keys, I find the door key and slip it in the lock to turn, being careful not to miss the keyhole and touch the paint. Mason’s old ‘78 Chevy K-10 is his baby and he will definitely find a way to get revenge if I scratch his paint.
The door swings open with a little croak, and I set my clutch in the seat and pat the floorboard under the seat until my fingers find the cool bottle laying on its side.
“Hey Marley.” I jerk up and see one of the Juniors from my science class.
“Oh, hey, Keith. What are you doing here?” I look around to see if he is with anyone else, but he is alone.
Keith always flirts with me, but something about him gives me the creeps. He’s always finding excuses to touch my arm or my hair. He asked me out a few weeks ago, and I nicely told him I wasn’t interested, he seemed to take it well, but I’ve been avoiding him ever since anyway.
He looks up at the sky as he slips his hands out of his jeans pockets. “Oh, I thought I would just check things out.” He looks down at the seat where my hand is resting. “What’cha got?”
Holding my hand up so he can see the bottle, I laugh. “Oh, just a little bit of liquid fun for me and Wren.”
Nodding his head, he takes a step closer to me, blocking me between the door and the cab. The hairs on my neck stand up and I try to be casual. “I need to get back; Mason and Wren are waiting for me.”
He extends his arm and slides his finger across my shoulder. “You look really pretty tonight, Marley.”
Clearing my throat, I try not to react to my gut telling me to run. “Thanks, Keith, but I gotta go.”
“Why wouldn’t you go out with me when I asked?” The question seems casual, but his upper lip twitches just a little as his eyes rake over my dress and legs. Suddenly I wish my dress wasn’t so short.
“Uhm, I told you, Keith, I don’t like you like that. I just want to be friends.”
The punch comes out of nowhere, his knuckles slam into my temple and my vision tunnels as stars fade in and out in my peripheral. The back of my head hits the window, and I think I hear it crack.
“Friends?”
His fist slams into my nose and I immediately feel warmth running down my face and the back of my throat as I cup my hand over my face. “No, stop.” My voice is shaking and doesn’t sound right.
The force of the punch makes me lose my footing on the slick grass and mud and I trip into the floorboard of the truck, my arms fly out to grab anything to stop me from going down and the only thing I get a grasp on is the door handle and I feel my fingernail tear as my bloody hand slides out of it.
Somewhere far away, behind the sound of blood rushing through my ears, I hear him next to my head. “You just want to be friends? Too fucking bad.”
He grabs my neck and pushes me back across the floorboard. My head is spinning, and I think I might vomit. I feel hands on my legs and a voice in my head is screaming at me to stop him, but I can’t get my arms to do what I want them to.
“Stop.” It comes out as almost a whisper and I fling my arm in the air hoping to stop what I know is about to happen.
Pain rips through my pelvis, oh God, it’s happening, but I only feel like I’m partially in my body. I close my eyes and wish for it to be over with, swallowing the blood that is running down the back of my throat.
A familiar voice pulls me out of the void that I’ve slid into and suddenly I’m alone in the truck. I try to push myself up, but instead I turn to the side and vomit in Mason’s floorboard. He’s going to be so mad at me.
There is more yelling, and I hear other voices before Mason’s voice is loud in my ears. “Marley! Marley!” Panic is in his voice, and I can see his face close to mine, but he’s blurry.
“Mason?”
“Fuck! I need to get her to the hospital.” He takes his jacket off and wraps it around me as he pulls me out of the floorboard and lifts me to the seat.
More yelling and I’m only a little embarrassed that others are seeing me like this, I hurt too much to care. There are so many voices coming from all around.
“Call the cops.”
“Oh my god, is he dead?”
“An ambulance is on the way, Mason, you should wait.”
“Mason, let me take her. You need to stay and talk to the cops.”
“I’m taking care of my fucking sister. Fuck him and fuck the cops!”
“Where are my keys?”
Finally, he gets in the driver’s seat and turns to me. “I’m taking you to the hospital.”
“I’m sorry.” I roll my head along the back of the bench seat in his direction, my head feels too heavy to lift.
He cups my face between his hands and winces as he looks at my quickly swelling face. “What are you sorry for, Mar?”
“I threw up in your floorboard.”
“Don’t worry about that, Squeak. Here, lay down.” He helps me lie in the seat, my head next to his leg. His use of the nickname he and Gray gave me because of the sound I make when I get the hiccups is a small comfort as I try to block everything that just happened.
He starts the truck, and I watch his hand cup the ball on top of the gearshift in front of my face before darkness falls over me.