I lean against the rock with him. “It’s actually kind of cool,” I say, glancing over at the ring of stones that are just to the west of where everyone else is enjoying themselves. Someone turns the radio up, and a rap song splits the air that’s so at odds with where we are, but still, it can’t take away from the view. Stars sparkle in the sky, highlighted by different colors. It’s almost as if I could reach up and pull the Milky Way right out of the universe.
“How so?” Lucas asks.
I blink, returning down to earth. “Well, the Apaches think this is the gate to hell.” I point out the stone circle to him. “They hold rituals here to keep the devil down there and us up here. They think removing the barrier could be a very bad thing.”
Lucas’s gaze turns sharp. “That’s not hell,” he says abruptly. He nods toward the depression. The reflection of the fire in his eyes darkens as he casts a curious glance over it. “I’ve seen hell, and that’s not it.”
He flicks his bottlecap, snapping his two fingers in front of him, and it lands in the dirt in front of us. Hopefully, we’re not too far away from the fire that the snakes and scorpions stay where they are and don’t come out. If you’re from here, those things aren’t that big of a deal, but if you’re an out-of-towner, you might just pee your pants a little at your first sighting.
“Are you going to sign Lance’s contract?” Lucas asks after taking another drink from his beer.
The note about my father burns in my brain. It has to be from Jacobs. There’s only one group worried about the treasure right now. “I don’t really have a choice,” I say sharply.
Lucas sighs and takes another swig of his beer. “I was afraid you were going to say that.”
He doesn’t sound pissed. Just resigned. Not that he has any right to sound anything. I almost completely forgot who I was having a chat with. His purring voice, his inebriated openness pulled me in. None of Jacobs’ guys are my friends. I turn toward him. “You know, Dean Smith had a chat with me today.” The noises of the party heighten as more people arrive. “College is the only thing I have left, and you assholes are trying to take it from me,” I tell Lucas, fixing him with a look that I hope says I mean business.
A guttural growl comes from the back of Lucas’s throat. “You don’t know—.”
“I know enough.”
“You don’t know anything. That’s the sad part, Dakota.” He lifts his hand, skirting around the bandage on my shoulder, then up to the curve of my neck. He tightens his fingers there, holding me in place. “You really don’t know anything.”
Nerves skate through my body on fine edges of discomfort and pleasure. I should be scared, but the way Lucas looks at me doesn’t give me any vibes other than dampening my panties. I shake my head, but his hold on me only tightens. I grab for his hands. As a warning or something else I’m not entirely sure about.
My breath heaves in front of me, my nipples rubbing against his chest with every intake of air. They turn to stone, peaking to the point of pain. It should be illegal for Lucas to have this effect on me. He pulls back, creating a space of mere inches. I want to kiss him. I want him to kiss me. His gaze mirrors the sentiment, casting me in a heady glow.
But no, I’m too damn proud for that. Also, I’m not an idiot. He runs with the Jacobs, not the Wilders.
I slam my hands against his chest and push him. “Get away from me.”
Lucas smirks once he regains his balance. “I hope you know you’re only making this more fun for us. It’s about the hunt, right? Not the actual find.”
I swallow. He just took words my dad said only a few thousand times in his lifetime and made them dirty. Confusion pricks at me. I push past him, skirting around the edge of the crowd with my mind and my core still at odds. Since they’re determined to play this game, I have to be smart about things. It doesn’t matter what comes out of their mouths, I’m not the small-town girl who’ll drop her panties at their whims. What’s frustrating is that they’ll stoop to any level to get me to sign that damn contract.
10
Lucas follows me, but I don’t acknowledge his presence. The partygoers sit in a horseshoe-shaped ring around a bonfire, no one situated with their backs to the Hole. I guess some legends just can’t be shaken.
A few stand in groups, others are sitting on rocks or large pieces of wood that have been dragged out here from who knows where because logs sure as hell aren’t derivative from this area. Most everyone has a beer in hand, and I follow the tracks of two girls who are just now getting to the party back to a cluster of guys. That’s where I spot the coolers, so I head that way. I didn’t come all the way out here just for the guys. No, I finally got invited to my first Clary party, so I’m going to make the most of it, whether I’m the odd one out or not.
My father never shied away from giving me a taste of alcohol here and there. He liked his hard liquor, sipped from a tin cup. If I asked for some, he’d let me have a small swallow. The burning liquid would scorch down my throat and warm my belly. I never sat and got drunk with him. Not that I wanted to. That would be the ultimate depressing thought. Father and daughter, drowning their sorrows together. We weren’t that type of
