“No drinking.” I point at Amelia.
“I don’t drink.” She jumps out of my car.
That’s a relief, another thing different from Charlotte, and one less thing to worry about.
I watch as Amelia hurries ahead of me, in search of her friends, and maybe that blonde fucker that was with Ivy the other night.
Ivy.
I wonder if she’s here. Does she come to high school parties? She doesn’t seem like the type that would waste her time with catty females or too touchy guys. Fuck, what am I saying? I don’t know the bitch.
I step onto the first boat and a guy automatically offers me a red cup, I decline because I’m fucking driving, and I don’t usually drink anyways. Not for a few years now, not since Charlotte was taken from me. I shake my head to clear it of the thoughts and try to pick Amelia out in the crowd. In my search to find my sister, I find a familiar brunette a few boats over, and I lean against the side of the boat to watch her.
Ivy is alone and has a red cup in her hands-no fucking surprise-as she stares down at her phone screen. She looks angry and slightly confused as she swiftly swipes her thumb over the lit surface. Her face is slightly illuminated and I can see the gloss shining on her lips, her teeth dragging over the bottom one in frustration.
I’m hardening in my pants and I would punch myself in the fucking dick for this reaction if I knew it wouldn’t hurt so much. She still has that one prominent dimple in her left cheek. She’s wearing a black leather jacket with grey fur along the collar, a white top underneath, and a black skirt, her long ass legs on display.
She shoves her phone into her jacket pocket and exhales, blowing a piece of hair out of her face. A lot of these guys have their eye on her and I don’t fucking blame them, she’s gorgeous. None of them know what I do though, that her inside is a mess of rotting flesh, ready to destroy anyone she comes in contact with.
Why then am I tempted by it?
Finally, one of the guys watching her, gets the nerve to approach, and I watch with complete concentration. What will she do?
He taps her arm and she turns towards him, her face now fully facing me. He leans in and says something in her ear and I chuckle as her top lip curls up in disgust. She shakes her head at him and shoos him away. She literally shooed him away.
I watched her for about ten minutes and in that time, she looked at her phone twelve times. I wonder who is messaging her or what she’s waiting for. Then, another guy works up the nerve to approach her and I chuckle in anticipation. The whole time I’ve been here, she hasn’t looked at anyone with interest and I find it amusing that these guys want to risk it.
This time, she sees him coming before he even reaches her, and shakes her head at him. I throw my head back and laugh at the guy’s face, he looks so fucking dejected.
Once again she’s pulling her phone out of her pocket and staring at it with a frown on her face.
I think it’s time I find out what’s eating at Ivy now.
DEAN: Why does the Black Slaughter have me on her list, Ivy?
Dean: I told you what would happen if someone found out.
Dean: No answer?
Dean: You know the consequences.
I’m reading his messages and shocked at what he’s saying. What the fuck is a Black Slaughter? And why is he acting like I told someone? I do know the consequences and they are too steep to take the risk.
“You’re going to have premature age lines.” No way.
I look up and see Neil standing a few feet away, his arms crossed at his chest, and a baseball cap thrown backwards on his head.
He’s wearing a brown distressed leather jacket, a black shirt, and a pair of dark jeans. He looks good and I give him another once over.
“The boys are going to get jealous if they see you paying me that much attention.” He almost sounds playful and my guard automatically flies up. What the fuck does he want?
“What do you want?” I try to sound nonplussed.
“I want to know what has you looking like you want to run and hide.”
“Are you stalking me now?” I sneer at him and he chuckles darkly.
“My only sister is around here somewhere, I need to make sure she’s not in danger.” He retorts and my stomach rolls.
“Fuck you.” I snarl and turn to go inside of the yacht. I need to piss and I need to get away from him.
As soon as I walk through the small door, I feel a body close at my back, and a hand landing against my stomach. His scent curls around me, hugging me in a musky fragrance, and I lean into him.
His breath hits my ear as his mouth brushes the lobe, and I suck in a breath at the foreign feeling inside me, it's not an uncontrollable lust taking over like usual. My insides are quaking for another reason, for things I want but can't describe, and I don't want his warmth to leave me.
My legs begin to shake as I turn my face towards his, I open my mouth to speak, and his hand clamps around it, shoving me against the wall. My head slams into the fiberglass and I whimper at the brief shot of pain.
He crowds in around me, his mouth running a trail up my neck, and stopping at my ear.
"You're tempting me, bitch." His voice is harsh, "and it's pissing me off."
I try to shake my head and dislodge his hand but it's no use, his fingers only dig in tighter.
"I want to slit your fucking throat," fear races through me at his words,
