My goal to get over whatever weird thing was happening between me and Dutch is tested at lunch.
“You want me to come to your party?” I gawk, staring at the invitation.
“People actually give out paper invitations these days?” Serena asks.
We’re seated around our usual tree on the Redwood Prep lawn. The guy in front of me is a football jock with a nice smile, dark skin and bright hazel eyes.
“It’s a retro party.” He nods at the typewriter script on the page. “It should be fun.”
“Uh… I’m not really the party type,” I admit.
“Anyone who hangs with The Kings is the party type.” He winks. “Besides, I think you’re cool and I’d like to see you there.”
“Oh.”
With another camera-ready smile, he walks off.
I blink in confusion. “What just happened?”
“You got flirted with, for one. Second, you got your first official invite to a Babe Gordon party.” Serena actually sounds excited. Which is rare for her since she views everything with a pessimistic lens.
“Okay, but why?”
“Probably because Dutch dissed you this morning.” She points at the leftovers that I packed this morning. I stole some finger food from the dance so I could save money on my meal card.
“You gonna eat that?” she asks.
“No…” Before I can finish, Serena snatches my plate from me and inhales it.
I laugh. “Slow down.”
“Sorry.” She sets the dish down and licks her lips. “Why do you think Jinx has so much power? Our school runs on secrets and scandal. Ever since that tension-filled moment in the hallway, people have been whispering that you and Dutch broke up. You’re free game now.”
“We were never together,” I grumble.
“Doesn’t matter. In their minds, you were with the god of Redwood Prep. And since he was close enough with you to let you play in their band yesterday, people are assuming you’re the one who rejected him.”
“Do people have nothing better to do than gossip?”
“Rich people? No.” She shakes her head.
I slide the invitation toward her. “You want it?”
“Only if you come with me.” She pouts. “I have a pair of vintage pilot pants that I got at a thrift store and I haven’t found a place to wear it yet.”
I look over her dark eyeliner and black lips. “You’d really go to a party? Voluntarily.”
“You think I can’t?”
“No, I mean…” I frown. “I don’t mean to offend.”
“You didn’t.” She laughs. “I go for free food and drinks. Duh.”
I laugh.
Serena grins at me. “Have you ever been to a rich people party?”
“Not really.” Breeze was always hopping from one rager to another, but I doubt our neighborhood parties are anything like a Redwood Prep bash.
“I’ve been to a few. I always take plastic containers and empty water bottles. If I organize well, I can have bomb lunches for an entire week.”
“Serena…”
“Hm?” She licks her fingers.
I want to ask her why she never has food for lunch, but I decide not to go there. We’re friends who hang out, but we haven’t gone that deep yet.
“Nothing.”
She grabs my hand. “You’ll come with me, right?”
“Just to get some food and go?”
“Absolutely. Did you think I’d actually spend time there?” She sticks out her tongue as if it’s a disgusting thought. “I’ve been with these snobs for four years. They only get more obnoxious when they’re drunk.”
I think about it. I have the night off anyway and I was planning to spend it with Breeze. But I know my best friend would kill me if I didn’t take an opportunity like this.
“Okay.”
“Yay!”
“Just in and out, right?” I clarify.
“Just in and out.”
I regret it the moment Serena slows her beat-up motorcycle in front of a mansion. Lights are on in every window. Music’s blasting. People are spilling out of the front lawn holding red cups.
They’re all dressed beautifully in retro hairstyles and dresses. The guys are in oversized tuxedo jackets. The girls are wearing boa feathers and long gloves.
“I’m starting to regret not putting more into my costume.” I look down at the silver dress that Dutch bought me. I’m wearing it because I have literally nothing better in my closet. I paired it with a fake ostrich feather coat that I borrowed from Viola’s closet. I’m also wearing a headband across my forehead.
“Oh, no one will notice.” Serena waves me off. “We’re not here to stay anyway.”
“That’s easy for you to say,” I mumble. “You look incredible.”
She’s wearing a fluttery pirate shirt with her vintage pants. Her hair’s in a bob and long pearl necklaces fall to her chest.
“Thanks.” She fluffs her hair. “Now let’s go.”
She drags me into the house.
It’s surprisingly chill given the volume of the music. Most of the students are either dancing, standing around talking or drinking in the kitchen.
We walk deeper in. My eyes jump from the vaulted ceilings to the expensive paintings to the lit up pool through the glass balcony. The only thing more dazzling than the decor are the costumes. I have to give it to the rich kids, they know how to dress for a themed party.
“You ready?” Serena grins and holds up her giant purse. Inside are empty food containers.
I start to nod but freeze when I spot Christa and her dance minions in the kitchen. We haven’t crossed paths since she crowded me in the hallway. She’s been out of school ‘recovering’ from her split lip.
If she sees me tonight, I know she’ll make trouble. Her minions have been snarling at me every time we pass in the hallway.
I have a feeling they’ve been holding off on their retribution because of Dutch. Since he told off that jock in the cafeteria, people have been keeping their distance. But now that everyone thinks I dumped him, I’m free game.
“What’s wrong?” Serena asks.
“I think I’m going to wait outside,” I tell her.
“Outside? Why?” she yells to be heard over the music.
I jut my chin in the cheerleaders’ direction.
“Oh.” She bobs her head in understanding. “I’ll come find you.”
While I’m weaving through the dancers in the living room to get as far away from Christa as possible, I feel a hand on my arm.
It’s Babe.
“Hey, you look great,” he says in my ear.
“Thanks.” My first instinct is to brush his hands off me, but I stop myself. I’m squarely in the ‘try something new’ mindset tonight. It’s step two of my plan to burn whatever stupid bridge I thought I’d built with Dutch.
“You look good too,” I add, leaning in close.
He really does. His hair’s combed out into a big afro and he’s wearing shiny disco clothes.
“Thanks.” He does a little turn and shows of his sparkly jacket.
I smile because his grin is infectious. He really is cute.
“Wanna dance?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know. I don’t really…”
But he’s already leading me to the dance floor. “Come on. You know you wanna dance.”
What the hell. We only live once, right?
I follow him without protest, glad that he takes me into the middle of the crowd so it doesn’t feel like everyone is watching me.
The music has a funky beat and the singer croons about ‘good loving’. It’s not what I usually listen to, but I appreciate music in all its forms.
Bobbing my head, I let my body move to the beat.
“That’s it, girl.” Babe encourages me when I start to feel a little stupid.
He does a Micheal Jackson move, complete with a leg kick.
I laugh and we come together again. Babe places his hand on my hips and it doesn’t feel uncomfortable.
I sway my body from side to side and he dances right against me, matching me rhythm for rhythm. When the beat gets faster, I move my fingers, mimicking the notes as if a piano’s in front of me.
Wow.
This is actually fun.
I turn around to tell him that when Babe’s face stiffens. He drops his hands from around my hips as if I’m poison.
Stunned, I look in the direction he’s staring in and see Dutch glaring at us. He’s got a cup of beer in his hand, but he’s not drinking from it. In fact, he looks a few seconds away from splashing it in our faces.
My fingers curl tighter around Babe’s hands. I raise my chin in defiance. “Don’t worry about him.”
“Sorry, sweetheart. You’re not worth getting mixed up with The Kings.”
Well damn him.
I refuse to stop enjoying myself even when Babe slinks away to go grind against some other brunette. My reason for coming to this party was to take a whole bunch of food back home to Viola but now? My mission has changed. I’m going to have a great time on this dance floor and I’m not going to leave until I’m good and ready.
I give Dutch my back and keep dancing. Whether I look crazy or not dancing by myself, I don’t care. Music is in my blood and I might not be the greatest dancer in the world, but I understand rhythm and I understand a brush off when I see one. I hope Dutch does too.
I hear his heavy footsteps padding toward me even above the music. My body coils with tension as I imagine him glaring a hole in my back.
Everyone in the crowd backs away, watching and whispering. I stop dancing as exuberantly because I’m pretty sure I look like an idiot at this point.
Dutch bends over and whispers in my ear, “Come with me.”
Heat spreads up my neck and face. I probably look redder than a tomato right now.
We’re close. Way too close. My senses are overwhelmed by him. The subtle spice in his cologne, the heat of his body, the sound of his gravelly voice—it all goes straight to my chest.
The music from the speakers shifts to a souls song and I feel the tension in Dutch’s body tighten.
He grabs my arm. “That’s not a request, Brahms.’
“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m busy. So screw off.”
Gasps go up from the crowd.
I glance up and see Dutch clenching his jaw. He nods once and marches back to where he was standing. His brothers are there, both of them watching with conflicted expressions.
Dutch shoves his cup at Zane. When he turns around and faces me, his expression is thunderous. I shiver in fear. He looks pissed.
My alarm bells start ringing and I back up a step.
Dutch goes straight for me.
My heart bucks when I read his intentions.
“Don’t you dare, Dutch.”
But I might as well have saved my breath. The big oaf catches me by the arms and bends at the knees. I’m up and over his shoulder in less than a blink. The party goes completely silent except for the singer crooning from the speakers.
I squirm, trying to right myself. After being turned over his shoulder so many times, you’d think I’d have found a way to straighten up by now.
At least I’m not wearing a Redwood Prep skirt and flashing my butt cheeks at everyone tonight.
As we’re passing the kitchen, Serena stumbles out holding two plates full of wings. Her eyes bug and she looks torn between wanting to save me and wanting to go nowhere near this mess.
I wave her away, knowing better than anyone that she shouldn’t get into Dutch’s path right now. His sick, twisted mind might try to get revenge on her and I don’t want my friends in the crosshairs of this war.
Dutch carts me up to the second floor, kicks a bedroom door open and barges in.
The two people currently occupied on the bed squeal and try to cover themselves up.
“Get. Out.”
Two naked blurs streak past us, carrying their clothes and shoes with them.
Dutch kicks the door shut with his boot and throws me unceremoniously on the bed.
I squeal like he tossed me into a tub full of live octopi. Ew. I know exactly what was going on in this bed a second ago and I don’t want any of it touching my skin.
Fuming, I pop to my feet. “Who the hell do you think you are?”
“Don’t you remember, Brahms? As long as you’re at Redwood Prep, you belong to me.”
“I belong to no one.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Cadey.” His amber eyes are glowing. “You. Belong. To. Me.”
“Sorry to burst your sadistic little bubble, Dutch, but I’m not your property. You don’t get to just,” my voice climbs as my temper explodes, “boss me around.”
“That’s exactly what I can and will do,” he says stiffly.
“What the hell do you want from me?” I surge toward him. “You’ve been icing me out all day and then you get pissed off when you see me dancing with someone else? Choose a freaking side and stick to it!”
His brow tenses. Dutch is usually so good at holding in his emotions, but I can see it all bubbling right under the surface tonight. He’s not just angry. He’s seething with it. A rage so dark and turbulent it can’t be controlled. It’s like a part of him is coming unhinged.
I should be scared. He’s big enough and strong enough, to break me in half. But I realize something when I see his emotions laid bare.
He’s fallible.
Vulnerable.
Human.
He’s fighting with me, yeah, but he’s really fighting with himself. The scars are all over him from the vein bulging out of his neck to the flare of his nostrils.
He’s not the cocky god of Redwood Prep.
He’s like me, torn up and conflicted and broken as hell.
I smile and it seems to set off a flame in him. His stormy gaze locks on me. “You think this is funny?”
“I think you’re pathetic,” I spit.
His lips press together, flattening into thin lines.
“You act like you own all of Redwood Prep, but you’re so afraid of me. So afraid to tell me what I did to you. Why do you hate me so much?”
He turns away, his jaw flexing.
“Do you really think you’re impressive for tormenting someone like me? You run around making my life hell and for what? What could a poor girl like me possibly have that the big bad wolf of Redwood Prep has to take from her?”
He grabs me by the shoulders and drags me close to him. I can feel his heartbeat banging against his chest.
“You know what I want,” he grinds out.
My eyes fall on his lips. There’s something more behind his obsession with kicking me out of Redwood Prep. I can feel it.
“Why do you need me gone?” I whisper intently.
Instead of answering, Dutch stares me down. His eyes are tormented. It’s like I’m watching him being torn in two.
I press up on my tiptoes, my lips an inch away from his. “Tell me, Dutch.”
He growls low in his throat.
The heat between us isn’t unfamiliar to me, but it’s different tonight. The temperatures are rising, slow, steady, like the notes before the climax of a song.
My breathing deepens when Dutch steps closer to me, penetrating my personal space. “Stop testing me, Cadey.”
I’m so caught up in him that it takes me a second to realize I’ve got my hands under his shirt. He captures my wrist, his jaw flexing.
I’ve felt this surge of desire before—in the dressing room when he kissed me and when we had that moment in the coffee room. Both times, I was able to pull myself back, but I don’t know if I can now.
Dutch looks like a bad decision in the making. His shirt is black and so are his pants. He’s darkness in motion, imposing and yet incredibly magnetic. When he watches me, it feels like I’m naked. Like there’s nothing I could hide from his eyes.
This connection, in all its pulsing brokenness and sharp edges, is what I want. Just like the music that filled me when I was downstairs, I may not have experienced it before, but it’s familiar to me. To my body. To my soul.
I crave it.
More of it.
My skin comes alive as I feel Dutch’s strong fingers sliding beneath my coat and slipping it down my arms. Fake feathers tickle and caress my skin before pooling into a puddle at my ankles.
Still watching me, Dutch presses a hand against the small of my back. Silk meets hot flesh and a surge of air hits the back of my lungs. He draws me close in a rough motion, smashing me into his sculpted body.
“Why are you wearing this dress?” It’s not a question so much as it is a berating.
I don’t have time to think about an answer when his lips drift on top of mine. The heat inside me swells, throbbing with its own pulse and sending signals of desire through my body.
I slide my hands around his waist and push into his back, nudging him closer to me. Close enough that I can feel everything.
It’s new and thrilling. I’ve never let any boy as close I let Dutch get to me. We’re breathing each other in, drowning in each other. There’s not enough oxygen to stay alive.
The song from downstairs crawls beneath the slit in the door, filling the room with a sensual rhythm. I lap at his mouth, wanting to taste more of him.
This kiss is different than the one we had in the changing room.
That time, I wasn’t myself—my real self.
And Dutch was gentle with her. The other me.
Tonight, he’s not. He’s pushing up my dress and rubbing his hands all over me. Then he’s squeezing me. Hard. I moan and he growls at me before dragging the sleeves of my dress down my shoulder and sliding his tongue across my chest.
I dig my fingers into his shoulders. Hot, desperate sensations whip through me, too fast for me to contain. Too much for me to handle.
His name falls out of my lips and he surges up, smashing my head into the wall with the force of his kiss. Maybe I see stars. Or maybe I hear fireworks. I don’t know. I just kiss him deeper and he sucks at my bottom lip, making my knees buckle.
Without warning, Dutch picks me up and drops me on top of the vanity mirror. His lips don’t leave mine for a second.
I’m already too far gone to stop this. I slipped off the edge of the cliff long ago. Now, I can only fall, waiting for the inevitable, painful crash to the bottom.
Only it’s not painful. The fingers that land on me leave prickles of pleasure everywhere they touch. His caress is hot and patient as he palms my inner thighs.
My heart is hammering against my ribs. I push my legs further apart. I’ve never slept with anyone before. Never went past second base. But if Dutch stops touching me, I think I might die.
“Dutch,” I moan.
His eyes suddenly burst open and he looks down at my face as if searching for something. When he doesn’t find it, the beast that never strays too far rises from the depths, right before my eyes. His icy expression returns and he pulls his hands back just as they were about to…
“Damn.” He curses. “I’ve had enough of you in my head.” He backs away from me, his shoulders tense. “I’ve had enough of you in my school. I’ve had enough of you at Redwood, Brahms.”
I quickly close my legs, ashamed at the need that’s burning in me even now, beneath his fiery disdain. Beating out those flames with a quick stomp, I jump off the dresser and glare at him.
“Bastard.” I adjust the straps of my dress and stalk across the room. Humiliated tears are burning in my eyes and I don’t want him to see.
“Stop.”
I don’t want to, but my legs freeze on command.
Dutch stomps in front of me. His eyes are still dark with desire and one look at his pants tells me fighting is the last thing he wants to do right now.
I don’t know if I’m glad he stopped us or if I should have barreled on and got it out of the way. I only know he drives me crazy and I want him out of my head just as much as he wants me out of his.
Dutch whips a check from his back pocket. It’s got a crazy number of zeroes on it and my eyes bug.
“What the hell is this?”
“It’s yours,” he says darkly. “Not only that. I talked to a friend of my dad’s. Once you leave Redwood, you can enroll at a new school.”
“Is this what I think it is?” I scoff. “Are you trying to pay me off, right now?”
Dutch scowls at a point just above my head. “I know your situation, Cadey. I talked to your sister—”
I grit my teeth. “You talked to my sister?”
A dangerous feeling builds in the middle of my chest—warning me that I’m on the verge of committing murder.
“You need this money. I know you do. Your pride isn’t worth proving a point to me.” He lets out a breath, his chiseled jaw clenching and unclenching.
“I hate you.”
His eyes burn. “Is that why you were whimpering my name three seconds ago?”
A crazed laugh pours past my lips as it all starts to kick into place. “So that was the plan, right? Lure me up here to take my dress off for you? Have some fun with me before you pay me off?”
He turns around and gives me his back. “Everyone has a price. People like you always have a price.”
His words set off my anger.
“Because I’m poor, you think I’m desperate enough to let you screw me and then accept your money?” I arch both eyebrows. “Who the hell do you think you are?”
“Cadey.”
“Don’t freaking call me Cadey!”
“I don’t know what kind of fantasy you’ve built in your head about me, but I’m not some freaking Prince Charming.”
“No, you’re the villain.”
And I’m an idiot.
The biggest one on the planet.
Silence falls as we glare at each other.
My chest swells and contracts.
His eyes dip there and he forcibly glances away.
“Even if I screwed you tonight, it wouldn’t have meant anything,” Dutch says as if he needs to clarify to himself more than me. He turns around to face me. “I’m trying to end this before it gets worse. Believe it or not, this is mercy.”
I want to take off my heels and bludgeon his head with it. Show him what this mercy feels like.
Stalking up to him, I hiss, “You can take your money and shove it. I’m not leaving Redwood Prep. Ever.”
His eyes narrow on me.
I wrench the door open and stalk out, leaving my shredded heart and my stupidity behind.
Jinx: Trade a secret for a secret. Want to tell me what happened between you and Dutch at the party tonight? Inquiring minds want to know. Be careful with your silence, Cadence. If you don’t get ahead of the story, the story will crush you.
