ONCE UPON A TIME, this house was a firehouse. It was filled to the brim with first responders who put their lives on the line every day to save others. Now, it’s frequently full of drunk college students that use the two-story high fireman’s pole to perform uncoordinated—and unsolicited—pole dances. I’m not saying I don’t enjoy a good pole dance or striptease, but so far, none of the girls who’ve attempted to put on a show have impressed me with their so-called skill.
Their desperate act for attention isn’t a complete loss as there’s always some frat boy willing to take the graceful coed home with them. As they like to say, one man’s trash is another man’s treasure.
Like right now, the horny sophomore that has no business being here is staring at the girl twisting around the brass pole with hearts in his glossy eyes. She was putting on a show for anyone who would pay attention to her, but when she finds him observing her like a lovesick puppy, her demeanor shifts in an instant. She now looks at him like she was doing it for him and only him. Coming to an unsteady stop, she smirks as she teeters on her heels toward him. When she’s close enough, she throws her arms around his neck and, without any preamble, has her tongue down his throat.
“I watched her puke in the street ten minutes ago,” Rome says, coming to lean against the kitchen island next to me with a beer bottle in his hand. He has the night off from family obligations and it looks like he plans on making the most of it.
“I don’t get the impression that he cares.”
Tearing my eyes away from the drunken public display of affection, I shake my head. You can call me a lot of things, but outwardly affectionate isn’t on the list. The way I see it, when you touch your girl in public, you’re claiming her. Making it clear to everyone else that she’s not to be fucked with.
There has only been one girl I’ve kissed or touched in public, and that was because I simply couldn’t stop myself. Stranger or friend, I needed everyone who looked at her to know that she was mine. Failure to understand this always led to my hands getting bloody. If someone’s eyes lingered on her just a little bit too long for my liking, I was breaking their face in and threatening to pluck their eyeballs from their skull with a pocketknife. That was the extent I was willing to go for her because that was how much she meant to me.
Had I known that she would be my downfall and my greatest regret, I would have let them stare at her like the whore she is. Would have saved me a lot of fucking pain and time if I had.
“He’s on a track to get his dick wet tonight. Of course, he doesn’t care.” Rome chuckles, still finding entertainment in the sloppy train wreck in the middle of the crowded room. “Get it, my man! That’s right, show her who’s boss.” His hands cup around his mouth as he shouts across the room, and to really drive his point home, his hips grind the air.
My friend finds humor in things that most would deem inappropriate. Like funerals or autopsies. Normally, it’s a trait I can appreciate, but tonight, I’m not in the mood for his antics. Tonight is the night that everything finally falls into place. All I have to do is wait for her to fly through my front door.
It doesn’t matter how many years we’ve spent apart, I still know Posie Davenport. The only time she took kindly to an order from me was when my cock was in her. She’d enthusiastically do anything I asked with a smile on her pretty face. On any other occasion, a command from me, or anyone else, would have her bristling and telling us to go fuck ourselves.
Now isn’t any different. My instruction not to come tonight will be a challenge to her. A dare. She’ll show up to prove her misguided point. You don’t own or control me.
What she has yet to realize is I’m mere hours away from doing just that. By midnight tonight, Posie will be mine again, but in a different way than before. This time, I will be able to control her because I hold all the cards. One wrong move from her will have her paying a price that will not only affect her but also the ones she loves most.
Teeth grinding with impatience and irritation, I glower at the people loitering about. “I’m so over this shit. The dancing, the drinking, the random people fucking on my couches and countertops. All of it. When I graduate and move away from this town, I’m never inviting anyone over again. No more strangers in my goddamn space.”
The novelty of these parties wore off long ago. All through high school, it was my house people came to, and once I got to Olympic Sound, it was no different. How could it be? The people I went to high school with are the same people I will be graduating with in the spring. I’m condemned to run in the same social circles the rest of my life. Even if I wanted to move away and start anew, that wasn’t a choice I was granted. It was written in permanent black and white that these people and this state are my forever.
Rome, of course, laughs at this.
My brows rise. “What? You think I’m kidding? I’m dead fucking serious. I won’t even let you come over. I’ve done my time. A little silence and solitude are all I want.”
“You and I both know the silence will make you go crazy. The only thing to keep you company will be your thoughts, and those will always be your worst enemy. You’ll be begging me to bring a case of beer over long before I miss your broody company.”
Rome has known me through all of this. There’s no fooling him. He was the first friend I made when I was forced to switch schools my senior year. He saw me through all the stages of my rage, and he’s the only person who knows the true depths of my fury. He’s also the only person who supports my plan.
Paxton hasn’t said it aloud, but I can see it in his sad eyes that he doesn’t approve. I’ve tried to make him see the truth about Posie, but he’s still clinging to those memories they shared. The loyalty he has for his childhood best friend is blinding him. I can only hope that one day he’ll see the truth just as I have.
Dark eyes cutting to the front door, his chin nods in that direction. “If you were capable of silencing those thoughts of yours, we wouldn’t be dealing with her, now would we?”
She’s here. Finally.
As always, you can hear Zadie before you can see her. She’s a flourish of bright color and sparkly bracelets. A neon sign that reads look at me could be above her head and I would still be drawn to her more subdued roommate that follows behind her like a quiet shadow.
Posie didn’t put the same level of effort into her outfit that Zadie did, but still, she has a way of capturing the attention of the people she passes as they walk farther into the house. It’s always been that way, and she’s always been naively unaware of the stares. Instead of the cropped black-long-sleeved top and jeans she wears, she could be wearing a burlap sack and people’s heads would still turn. It’s never been about the clothes she wears or the way she styles her long straight hair. Posie has a presence. One even I couldn’t resist.
I know the truth now.
She’s a siren whose song pulls people in. Once they’re close enough, she wraps her arms around them, and while they’re blinded by her pretty lies, she drowns them. They won’t know it’s happened until it’s too late.
Her entrance reminds me of her first day at Hemlock Hill. Just like they were then, people are curious about the new girl. She’s like a drop of blood in a piranha tank. Fresh meat for them to pick clean. Little do they know they won’t get the chance to get a real taste. I plan to devour her whole. Bit by bit, I’ll take pieces of her until there’s nothing left but bones.
If they still want her when I’m done, they’re more than welcome to enjoy my leftovers. Like vultures on a carcass, they can have whatever remains of her.
“She showed up.” Rome follows my lead when I push away from the counter and stalk forward a couple feet. “You were right.”
“Of course, she did. There was no version of this plan where she didn’t.” Knowing your enemy is always key in war, and there’s no one who knows her better than I do. She’s fighting with two hands tied behind her back because when I stand before her, I look like the boy she fell in love with at fifteen, but I’m a stranger.
Hell, there are days I hardly recognize myself in the mirror.
About ready to burst with impatience, my foot lifts off the ground to move forward, but before I can finish the step, Rome’s hand lands on my shoulder.
“Raff, you’re positive this is what you want to do? What you need to do?” My glare has him holding his hands up in surrender. “Hey. Don’t look at me like that. You know I’m with you to the end, and I’ll do whatever you ask me to do. I just want to make sure this is the path you want to go down. Some things just can’t be undone, brother.”
“There are a lot of things I regret, Rome.” I regret ever trusting her with my secrets, and I regret that I didn’t see her betrayal coming sooner. If I had, I could have cut the wires on the bomb she detonated on my family. Loving her blinded me and stopped me from saving the ones who needed me most. “This won’t be on the fucking list.”
This is how I heal from the wounds she inflicted. This is how I get even.
