It is only after he’s straightened up and moved back that I realize that my hand is empty and his is not.
That… asshole.
“Give it back,” I order.
Staring at me, he puts the bottle to his mouth and takes a long gulp. As if to taunt me.
When he’s done drinking my whiskey, his red lips glisten and his face sparkles like the moon that hangs low in the sky. “See you around, Fae.”
And just like that he turns around and leaves.
I should be relieved.
I should be, I know.
This is what I wanted. I wanted him to leave me alone.
But I don’t feel relief. Not at all.
I feel anger.
I feel so much fury right now. So much heat in my body that I can’t contain it.
I can’t contain this massive outrage, this massive wrath at what he said just now, the words that he used.
See you around, Fae.
The same words he said to me the night he smashed my heart to pieces. When he turned around and never looked back as I stood there, crying.
Before I know it, I’ve taken off after him.
I’ve started to charge at him like a crazy, wounded animal. I probably sound like one too, grunting and groaning, and in the back of my mind, I know I shouldn’t be acting this way.
You’re not a violent person, Callie. You don’t do this.
But I guess I’m violent for him.
I’m a bad girl for Reed Roman Jackson.
He’s at the back door, just about to enter the bar, and I’m about to crash into him until I don’t.
Until he spins around at the last second, intercepts me and spins me around too, pinning me to the brick wall. And then I’m right back where I started, pressed against a wall, staring up at him.
Only this time things are worse because he’s closer.
Much, much closer.
And he’s touching me.
Oh God, he’s touching me.
He has his hand on my stomach and he’s using it to keep me in my spot. He’s using it to trap me.
He’s actually holding me hostage right now and oh my God, I lose it.
I completely lose it.
“Take your hand off me,” I tell him, my legs jiggling. And when he doesn’t comply immediately, I start to struggle. “Take your hand off me. Take your hand off me right now!”
Thankfully, he does.
He raises them in the air, my whiskey bottle clutched in one, and says, “If I wanted to touch you like that, I would’ve done it by now. So you can stop losing your shit any time now.” He takes a sip of my whiskey again. “And while you’re at it, stop attacking innocent people, yeah? Not sure if they covered it at St. Mary’s but it’s not exactly how responsible citizens conduct themselves in society.”
“Oh, you think you’re innocent?” I snap.
His liquor-laced lips twitch. “Well, between you and me, only one of us has been arrested. And only one of us is going to a reform school. So you tell me.”
I fist my hands at his dig. I fist my hands and clench my teeth.
God, I hate him.
I hate him. I hate him. I hate him.
I hate the fact that he’s bringing it up.
That I was arrested.
That he had me arrested.
But I’m not giving up so easily. “Aw, are you jealous, Reed? Don’t worry. It’ll happen to you too. It’s only a matter of time, trust me.”
He loves it, my answer.
I can see that.
He loves that I’m not giving up, that I’m fighting back.
The lines around his pretty lips loosen up. “Thank you for your vote of confidence, Fae. I really appreciate it. But until that day comes, I’d like to keep believing that I’m as fresh as a fucking daisy. Which is more than some people can say.”
How bad can prison be really?
If I kill him, I mean.
If I charge at him once again and claw his eyes out.
His pretty wolf eyes.
“Give me back the whiskey,” I demand again.
“I don’t think so.”
“It’s mine. You stole it.”
“You stole my car.” He takes another swallow of it. “I think I’m allowed this.”
“I will —”
“Since when do you drink whiskey, anyway?” he asks over me.
“Oh, I don’t know. I met this asshole about two years ago, who recently came back into my life like the plague. Maybe since then.”
His eyes narrow at my cursing and my heart starts thudding in my chest.
Thudding and booming and pounding.
Because of his obvious displeasure at my cursing.
Because he still thinks that he has the right. To feel any displeasure in the first place.
“Glad to see I still affect you like this.”
“What are you even doing here by the way? What about your stupid soccer practice? Shouldn’t you be utilizing every single second being the best soccer player ever? Winning is everything, isn’t it? That’s what you said.”
He did.
And that’s why he betrayed me. So he could win against Ledger.
Something flashes through his face at that, something inscrutable. “Why don’t you let me worry about soccer?”
“You know —”
“And you’ve become quite the expert now though, haven’t you?” he almost rasps and my heart pounds, pounds, pounds in my chest. “Cursing and drinking, breaking curfew to go to a bar.”
“If you thought you were going to find a good girl, then I’m afraid you’re going to be disappointed.”
“Tell me something, because I’m extremely curious to know. Where did you learn that?”
“Learn what?”
“How to pick a lock.”
“What?”
“Do they teach you that at St. Mary’s? ‘Breaking and Entering 101,’ or is it called ‘How to Pick a Lock in Ten Easy Ways.’” A lopsided smirk greets me as he takes another sip of my whiskey and continues, “That was some really impressive work last night, Fae.”
Last night.
Right.
I forgot about that. I forgot that I did see him last night. It wasn’t my imagination then.
But hold on a second.
“You saw me pick the lock?”
“Yeah, I saw you run through the woods too. Behind your school. I saw you get on an empty bus and then I saw you trying to threaten who you thought was an intruder.”
Oh my God.
Oh my God.
He was there the whole time.
“Oh my God! Were you stalking me?” I squeak, outraged and violated and so freaking angry right now.
I’m not sure if it’s my question that makes his cheekbones jut out in answering anger but his next words are brimming with fury. “I wasn’t going to say anything but fuck it. What were you thinking?”
“What?”
“What the fuck were you thinking, Fae? You know how dangerous it is, don’t you? Sneaking out like that.”
“I —”
Again, he doesn’t let me speak. “And then to threaten someone. Fucking dare someone who you think means to do you harm. When you’re all alone. When you’ve got no back-up plan. What were you going to do? If he’d actually taken you up on your stupid little offer. Fucking ballet him to death?”
I take a step toward him, stabbing my finger. “Hey, I know how to punch, okay? You know that. I’ve got four brothers and —”
“Yeah, and I’m guessing they don’t know about your nightly excursions, do they?”
“Keep my brothers out of it.”
As soon as I blurt that out, I know I’ve made a mistake.
I know I’ve fallen into one of his invisible traps.
I know.
But the words are out there and he’s heard them, and now his eyes are glowing.
His pretty wolf eyes
are glowing with satisfaction and my racing heart both sinks and soars in my body at the same time.
“Are you asking me to keep a secret, Fae?” he asks, his voice low.
The next breath that I take comes out broken.
It comes out like a hiccup.
Like my breaths are all tangled up in him, in this villain who somehow has come back into my life like he never left.
“Don’t you dare, Reed.”
His eyes drop to my bright green ballet flats. “You know my price, don’t you?”
Tingles rush up and down my legs and I curse them. I curse my limbs for getting excited.
For getting restless as if they’re still sixteen and stupid.
“Again, you’re insane. Because I’m never doing that. Never ever. I’ll die before I dance for you.”
The slant of his jaw becomes more pronounced, more angular, as he stares at me with a look that I don’t understand.
But still makes me shiver.
“You’re not sneaking out again,” he commands.
“Excuse me?”
“You want me to keep it a secret, you’re going to stay put. In your dorm room. Where you should be right now. But I’m going to let this slide.” He gulps my whiskey again. “You promise me that and I’ll take your secret to the grave.”
I look at him, standing here in his dark clothes.
That leather jacket that I hate but that makes him look so beautiful, so tempting.
Such a heartbreaker.
A villain I should stay away from.
But I don’t.
I walk toward him.
And I don’t stop until I’m so close to him that I have to crane my neck to look into his treacherous eyes. “You think that I’m going to get scared like I did two years ago, don’t you? You think I’m going to do your bidding. So I’m here to tell you something: I’m not. I’m not the same girl anymore. I’m not naïve or innocent or stupid. You know why? Because when I was almost sixteen, I met a villain in the woods. He was beautiful and gorgeous and like an idiot, I fell in love with him. I believed every word he said to me. I believed every touch and every smile and every look. Until I realized that everything out of his mouth was a lie and his hands were dirty. So I escaped. I got out of his evil clutches. Unscathed. And I can do it again. So you should really rethink your strategy about blackmailing me. Because I’m not afraid of cigar-smoking villains from a bad fifties movie, or even assholes like you.”
With that, I make a move to leave.
But I don’t get to go too far.
He grabs my arm and stops me. His fingers dig into my bare flesh, setting my entire body on fire, and I can’t help but struggle against him again. But he tightens his grip as he sweeps his eyes all over my face. “You still dance like a fairy.”
“Reed —”
“And you look like one too,” he continues, his wolf eyes dropping to my lips. “A pretty blonde fairy with dark lipstick lips.”
Lipstick lips.
I wear lipstick now.
I forgot about that too.
I forgot that I’m wearing one right now and now that he’s staring at them, my lips, with so much intensity and focus, I can’t think of anything else.
I can’t help but say, “Heartbreak Juju.”
His eyes lift. “What?”
“The lipstick. That’s what it’s called.”
It’s dark blue with very subtle shades of green.
When I found it at a store a year ago, I knew I had to have it.
I knew it was for me.
For the brokenhearted girl that I am now.
Something flashes in his eyes, something heavy and grave, and before he can say anything, I continue, “It’s my favorite lipstick. It suits me. Don’t you think?”
I’m not sure what I expected him to say to that.
But he does say something and he says it with that same heavy look in his pretty eyes that gets my heart racing. “It does.”
The first time I saw Calliope Juliet Thorne was when she was six and I was nine.
Until then I’d only heard rumors.
I knew that people called her the Thorne Princess.
The little sister of the four Thorne brothers.
People said that she could melt the snow with her sweet smiles. She could melt people with her shining blue eyes. Especially her brothers.
Whose hearts she held in the palms of her hands.
When she danced, people watched. When she spun, people stopped moving. They said no one danced like her.
The first time I saw her, that’s what she was doing.
Dancing on the playground, by the rusted swing set.
I don’t remember a lot about that day but I do remember watching her. No one had to tell me who she was. I already knew.
Because I couldn’t stop. Watching her, I mean.
I couldn’t look anywhere else when she leapt and jumped and spun on her toes.
And then I remember walking toward her.
I don’t know what made me do that but one second I was standing still and the next, I’d started moving.
It was as if she was gravity.
A blue-eyed, blonde-haired force of nature.
And good thing too because somewhere in her spinning and leaping, she lost her balance. But I got there just in time to catch her.
I grabbed her arm, and this part I distinctly remember.
I distinctly remember leaving muddy fingerprints on her skin, on her dress.
I remember dirtying her up because I guess before I saw her, I was playing ball or something and my hands were all messed up. I remember wanting to snatch them away, to keep her all clean, and yet all I did was hold her harder.
And when she stared up at me with her big blue eyes and said ‘thank you’ in a voice that reminded me of the cotton candy that my sister liked, there was no chance that I was letting her go.
But I had to.
Because her brothers descended on me.
By then I was familiar with them. With Ledger Thorne specifically.
We went to different schools but I’d heard about him. I’d heard about his older brothers too, soccer legends all and so he had to be one as well.
I fucking hated them for it.
I fucking hated them for their glory, their talent.
For the fact that I’d always seen them together around town, with their oldest brother Conrad leading the charge. Watching out for his siblings.
I fucking hated that they had each other when my sister and I had no one, not even decent parents.
And strangely in that moment, I hated them for leaving their sister alone and unattended.
For not watching over her, for almost letting her fall so that I had to swoop in and save her.
But whatever.
They were all there now and they’d pushed me away so they could take care of her and they could all go fuck themselves.
I didn’t even know why I’d saved her in the first place.
Why I cared enough to save her.
Their sister was their responsibility, not mine.
Angry at myself, I walked away and I kept walking even when I heard her say in that sweet, cotton candy voice, But he saved me…
Again, whatever.
I don’t think she remembers that day. A random kid from the playground saving her from falling.
Why would she?
I don’t even know why I remember it, let alone why I’m thinking about it right now.
Maybe because I just saw her after two years at that shitty bar.
Maybe because I’d forgotten how small she is.
How short and fragile.
How easy to pick up and carry away.
Most of all I think I’d forgotten how she looked when she danced. How enchanting, hypnotizing.
Enthralling.
Like a true fairy.
They didn’t lie, did they? All those
people who talked about her when she was little.
No one dances like her.
And she does hold her brothers’ hearts in her hands.
Because I used that two years ago. The fact that they all love her to death and will do anything for her.
I didn’t set out to do that though.
Just to be clear.
I didn’t set out to play with her heart and then break it.
I can be cruel and heartless, but using her wasn’t my plan.
In fact, I stayed away from her.
I stayed away even when she showed up at my party in the woods two years ago, looking all innocent and lost. As if stepping out of a dream. I even followed the pact, the stupid fucking pact, that I’d made with her brother later.
We’d decided that we wouldn’t bring each other’s sisters into our rivalry and I agreed.
I agreed even when she made it really hard to stay away from her. I agreed even when she dangled herself in front of me at every turn, looking like a perfect opportunity.
Looking like a shiny trophy.
But.
The thing to understand is that I needed to win that day. I needed to be the reigning champion of Bardstown High.
I needed that title.
I hadn’t won the previous year. That jackass, Ledger, won by one measly goal and stole the title from me. Just like he stole the captainship.
The captainship that belonged to me.
But Conrad Thorne, our coach and Ledger’s brother, didn’t like my playing style. He thought I was reckless and selfish and didn’t think about the team.
Well, I fucking carried that team. Who cared if I thought about them or not?
So yeah, I needed that win.
I needed it because I knew it would upset my father. It would upset him greatly, and let’s just say it’s my life’s mission to upset my old man.
I’m a generous son that way.
I’d decided that I would serve that win to my father on a silver platter and that’s what I did.
Again, just to make it clear, I waited until the last moment. To use her, I mean.
I waited until I had no other choice. I waited until Ledger had the ball and he was about to score. And there was no other way to steal the ball — and in turn the win — except using his sister against him.
Besides, as I told her that night, I did her a favor.
Yeah, I remember what I told her that night. Even though I was massively drunk, I remember.
A Gorgeous Villain Page 17
