by James Tate
"I'm throwing a party," she announced. "Tonight. My place. I've invited a bunch of the old Shadow Prep crew, too. It's about time you expanded your social horizons, you know, outside of Danvers Mansion."
I gave her a knowing smile, but shook my head. "As much as I'd love to come to one of your parties, it seems like a really dumb idea considering... my situation."
Her smile slipped slightly, but then she raised her brows. "Didn't your dad basically say that you've had this stalker for years?"
I frowned in confusion. "Yeah, so?"
She shrugged. "Well... what needs to change? You went to parties before you knew, and nothing happened. You shouldn't have to live in fear, MK. You're tougher than that."
Bree was trying to manipulate me and doing a pretty crappy job of it. "There were no creepy dolls left before."
"How do you know?" she challenged. And damn, she had a point. My father hadn't found it necessary to tell me about my stalker or even report it to the police. So how the hell would I know if any other dolls had been left? They had. I knew they had. The one on my mother's grave had been too similar for this to be all a big coincidence.
Even so, a party still felt like a bad idea, one of those too-stupid-to-live decisions that movie heroines made.
I glanced around the parking lot while considering how to decline Bree's invitation, then realized something. Steele wasn't waiting for me.
A moment later, I realized why.
A familiar midnight-black Corvette Stingray zipped into the parking lot and screeched to a halt beside Bree and I.
"Get in, Princess," Archer barked, not even bothering to get out of the car.
I bent down to peer through the open window and found Kody grinning at me from the passenger seat. Of Archer's two-seater car.
"Doesn't look like there's any space," I replied.
Archer tilted his sunglasses down, looking up at me with those ice-blue eyes of his. "Never stopped you before."
Bree laughed, even if she didn't get the joke. "Okay, there's an inside joke going on there. So, I'll see you tonight, MK. Dress sexy; Leon will be there."
I groaned, shaking my head. The fact that my ex-boyfriend was going to be there was not a selling point for me. Then again, Bree never had understood why I'd broken up with that two-pump-chump in the first place.
"What's tonight?" Archer asked before I could make my excuses to Bree.
She beamed at him. "A party at my place," she announced. "You guys can come, too, if you want."
My head whipped around, and I glared death at her. Her eyes widened like she’d just realized what she'd said, but the damage was done.
"We love parties!" Kody yelled from the passenger seat with a whoop. "Count us in."
Bree gave me an apologetic grimace, then hurried over to her car and left me to deal with two of the three pains in my ass.
"Get in, Princess Danvers," Archer repeated. "Steele got held up working on the Cobra."
I could only imagine that was one of his project cars. Given that I had no desire to walk the whole way home and Bree had just left, I rounded the hood of the car and popped Kody's door open.
"Shift over," I told him, but he just laughed and hauled me onto his lap.
It was safe to say sitting on Kody's lap in a two-seater Corvette was vastly different from sitting on Archer’s in the G-Wagen. For one thing, the G-Wagen had considerably more space inside. For another, Archer hadn't wanted me in his lap. Kody definitely did.
"If I have to slap your hands away from my tits or cunt one more time, Kodiak Jones…" I scolded him with only lukewarm heat after removing his hand from my inner thigh for maybe the fourth time.
He snickered with laughter under me, and Archer shot us both a dark look from the side of his sunglasses.
It didn't take us long to get home, though, and I practically jumped out of the car when it stopped. Not because I hated sitting in such tight confines with Kody underneath me... but because I liked it a little too much.
"Princess Danvers," Archer called out after me as I ran up the front steps to the house. "Who's Leon?"
"Why do you care, sunshine?" I replied, but then, because I didn't care to keep it a secret, I added, "He's my ex. But don't stress yourselves; I'm not looking to reconcile with any guy who declares the female orgasm a myth perpetuated by feminazis."
That really had been the last nail in our relationship coffin a few months before Riot Night. It didn't help that I'd also overheard him bragging to his stupid friends about everything he'd do with my trust fund once he married me. Yeah, never happening, bud.
When neither of the guys seemed to have anything more to say, I carried on into the house and went straight up to my room.
Closing the door behind me, I chucked my bag down on the floor and cringed at all the sparkly pink.
"I need to paint this fucking room," I murmured to myself. I’d thought I could handle it. It was just a bit of pink glitter, right? Who cared?
I did. It made me physically nauseated.
I made a mental note to talk to Steele about a trip to the hardware store over the weekend, then started to get ready for Bree's party.
Some time later, I headed back downstairs to get some dinner before we left. Bree's parties were typically heavy on the alcohol and light on the food—not a great combination under the best of circumstances, and these were far from that.
"Damn, MK." Kody let out a low whistle as I wandered over to where they sat in the den. The huge flat-screen was on, and Archer was playing some sort of first-person shooter. Steaming pizza boxes sat on the table unopened, like they'd just arrived.
Fridays were our cook's day off, so I was quietly glad they'd taken the initiative to order in.
"Damn, good? Or damn, bad?" I squinted at him but flopped down onto the couch beside Archer. It was the only free space, seeing as Kody and Steele were fully kicked back in the matching recliner chairs.
Kody's grin was sly, and his mischievous green-eyed gaze ran all over me before he replied. "Both. You're going to cause trouble tonight, I can tell."
I smirked back at him, quietly pleased by his reaction. My dusky-rose hair was pin straight, falling around my bare shoulders like a silken cape, and my mascara was heavy. My black dress wasn't anything too fancy, but it fitted my curves to perfection and had a fun fringe around the short hem, which tickled my thighs as I walked.
"A girl can hope," I replied, biting the inside of my cheek when I heard the clear flirtation in my tone. Apparently I needed to have a stern word with myself because last I’d seen, Kody had a girlfriend. Or at least a girl he felt comfortable kissing in public.
Archer paused his game, turning his head to take in my party appearance, then tightened his jaw. "This is a bad idea," he muttered.
I tucked my feet up on the couch and reached for a slice of pizza. "You don't have to come, sunshine. You can stay here and glower at yourself in the mirror while lifting weights or some shit."
Archer just glared at me, then continued playing his game, leaving a bloody trail of bodies on the screen as he picked enemies off with practiced ease. His temper had been getting steadily shorter by the day—with every protein shake he drank—and I was starting to feel more than a bit guilty. But it was only a few weeks until his UFC debut now, so the damage was already done.
Fuck it. He still deserved it.
"This is going to be all kinds of fun tonight," Steele commented, then drained the rest of his drink and stood up. "I'll grab you a drink, Hellcat. Then we can take bets on which one of these dickheads will piss you off enough to get slapped first tonight."
Kody snorted a laugh. "No bet, bro. We all know Arch is coming home with MK's palm print on him somewhere."
Now was it just me, or did that have a dangerously sexual hint to it?
A girl could dream.
28
Some things never changed. The sun rising each day. The rotation of the earth. Gravity. And of course, Bree's ability to throw one hell of
a party.
"How does she even know this many people?" Steele muttered as we parked down the street and walked the rest of the way.
I snickered. "Bree's a social butterfly. You just haven't seen this side of her... yet."
She really was, too. When we’d been at Shadow Prep, it had always been her dragging me out to parties and daring me into pushing boundaries. With the exception of Riot Night, of course. That one had been all me, desperate to see that mysterious up-and-coming MMA fighter.
Glancing over at him now, I could hardly reconcile the two versions of Archer.
This one seemed determined to rule my life like he had some kind of ownership over my actions and choices. Deluded prick. He'd already tried to give me a lecture on the drive over about being "responsible" and "safe" while we were at Bree's.
Such a downer.
"Madison Kate, for the love of god, don't get drunk tonight," he ordered me as I opened Bree's front door, and I gave him an eye roll.
"Okay, Dad," I scoffed, then immediately ditched all three of them.
It wasn't as reckless as it sounded. I'd spotted Bree across the room chatting to some girls we used to go to school with, and I knew perfectly well at least one of them followed me like a bad smell.
"You made it!" Bree squealed, throwing her arms around my neck and damn near knocking me on my ass with the strength of her alcohol breath. "I'm so happy you made it," she cooed, oblivious to the fumes rolling off her. "Your stupid guard dog can suck it. He can't keep us apart forever."
I laughed at her drunkenness, but shot a dark look over my shoulder at the guard dog I had no doubt she was talking about. He just stared back at me, impassive as he sipped a bottle of water.
Ugh. Straitlaced prick. Of course he wasn't drinking tonight. Wouldn't want to risk some innocent booze showing up on any random drug screening between now and his big fight.
The girls Bree had been talking to greeted me and made small talk. But their smiles were forced and I could tell they were uncomfortable. As soon as I could, I made some weak excuse and walked away. On my way through the kitchen, I snagged a still sealed premix-vodka drink, then made my way out to the pool area.
It was cold out—way too cold for the skimpy dress and heels I wore, but I preferred the freezing temperature to the whispers and side-eyes I was getting inside. Why the fuck Bree had thought this was a good idea for me, I had no idea.
I'd just hang out long enough to piss Archer off and be done with it.
"Kate," a familiar voice called out from the house, and I spun around with a smile for Dallas. "I was starting to think you were avoiding me, gorgeous."
He was teasing, I could tell. He knew full well I was avoiding him, but he didn't know why.
"Never," I lied, twisting the top off my bottle, then taking a sip. It was some sugary, watermelon-flavored crap, but it'd do. "You here officially?" I nodded to his white bandanna, tied loosely around his tattooed neck. It was printed all over with the black symbol of the Shadow Grove Wraiths, and it was the first time I'd seen him wearing it since I was fourteen, the night we'd argued about him joining the gang in the first place.
He gave a half shrug. "Sort of. Couple of the boys heard about a party in rich-ville, so I figured I should come along and keep an eye on things."
I nodded my understanding, knowing he really meant he'd come to make sure his friends didn't destroy Bree's parents’ house. If he could help it.
"You coming back in?" he asked me, pointing back to the party humming inside. I was the only one dumb enough to be out in the cold near the pool, so far. Once people got a bit more liquor in their bloodstreams, the frosty air wouldn't bother them so much.
I shook my head. "Nah, just hanging here for a bit. I have exactly zero desire to reconnect with my old Shadow Prep friends. You know, some of them actually go to SGU and I never noticed?"
Dallas laughed. "Real observant, Katie. I guess your attention has been a bit dominated by your new friends."
He followed me as I wandered over to one of the lounge chairs beside the pool and sat down. Dallas perched on the next one over, pulled a packet of cigarettes from his pocket, and lit one up.
"Hardly my friends," I muttered, but couldn't deny that Archer, Kody, and Steele had taken up a serious amount of real estate in my brain. I held my hand out, and he passed me his cigarette. I took a drag, my pink lipstick leaving a smear on the paper, then handed it back. "But yeah." I blew out the smoke with a long exhale. "There's... so much shit going on."
We sat there in silence for a while, passing the same cigarette back and forth. I didn't smoke and wouldn't have one of my own, but I wasn't adverse to a few puffs on Dallas's. Like I said, some things never changed.
"Want to talk about it?" he asked me eventually, and I shook my head.
"Nah. Ignorance is bliss, babe." I winked at him, teasing, and he grinned.
He stabbed the butt out in a potted plant behind us, then stood up and held his hand out to me. "Come on, lets find something better to drink than whatever that crap is." He nudged my full bottle with his toe, and I laughed. I'd barely taken one sip out of it, but I felt strangely dizzy.
Oh shit.
"Dallas? Was there weed in that cig?"
His grin was lazy. "Of course there was. You know I've been cutting my tobacco with weed for fucking years, Katie."
I ran a hand through my hair, laughing lightly. I did know that. I'd also forgotten. Whoops.
"It's just a light buzz," he said with a shrug, "nothing too serious."
"True," I agreed, leaning into his tall frame as he slung an arm over my shoulders. We rejoined the party, but lingered near the edge until a couple of vaguely familiar guys came over to us. They both wore the Wraiths bandannas; one had it tucked in his back pocket and the other had it tied around his wrist.
"Madison Kate." The smaller of the two leered at me. "The scapegoat herself. Ho-ly shit. D, man, you've been keeping secrets. Boss won't like that." He ran his tongue over the front of his teeth, and I cringed when I saw a gold tooth.
"Benjamin," I greeted the punk-ass kid, "nice to see you made something of yourself."
His smile dropped, and his glare turned menacing. "It's Viper, you mouthy bitch."
I wanted to make fun of him for playing at this tough gangster bullshit. But I wasn't dumb enough to think things hadn't changed in the four years since I'd seen this kid. Back then, he really had been just some scrawny brat playing tough... but you didn't survive long in the Wraiths or the Reapers if you couldn't walk the walk.
"Well, this was fun," I muttered with extreme sarcasm. "That's my cue to leave. Peace out." Ducking out from under Dallas's heavy arm, I jumped out of the frying pan and into the fire.
A strong hand gripped my upper arm as I ducked into the hallway, yanking me into the formal dining room. The sliding double doors slammed shut behind us with a sharp bang, and I stifled my reaction. Fuck this prick for trying to scare me.
"What the hell are you thinking, Madison Kate?" Archer demanded, his voice a low, dangerous growl as he crowded my space. Instinctively, I backed up a couple of steps until my thighs hit the edge of the long, polished oak dining table. "Are you drunk? I specifically told you not to get drunk! Do I just talk for the sake of hearing my own voice?"
I shrugged and set my hands on the table behind me, affecting a supremely casual kind of stance. "Probably. I can't imagine you actually think I listen to your bullshit."
That vein in his temple pulsed, and I smiled. One of these days I'd possibly make his head explode out of sheer irritation.
"Madison Kate," he snapped, like my name was a curse word, "you're just standing around getting drunk with known gang members. Are you actually as airheaded as your father seems to think you are?"
I arched a brow and tilted my chin up defiantly. "I'm not drunk, Archer."
His eyes narrowed so hard I wondered if he could still see me. And just to get a stronger reaction out of him, I elaborated.
"I am, how
ever, a little bit stoned."
Boom. There it went. Little bits of Archer's beautiful head splattered all around the room, painting it red and leaving nothing but a bloody stump where his neck used to be.
Metaphorically speaking, of course. That was what happened inside my imagination, and it was oh so satisfying. In reality, his eye just started to twitch.
"Princess," he breathed out. It wasn't a nice sound, though. It was more like the kind of noise a dragon might make when it'd just spotted a virgin damsel ripe for barbecuing and eating.
I grinned, all teeth. "Yes, sunshine?"
The nickname made me smile even wider because Archer D'Ath was the antithesis of sunshine in every possible way.
He was so close to me now. When had that happened? The rough fabric of his jeans brushed my bare legs, and he towered over me in a classic Archer-intimidation tactic. When was he going to learn that he didn't scare me? Not like that, anyway.
His cold blue eyes were locked with mine, and I tilted my chin back further, refusing to break first.
"Fuck," he cursed, then slammed his mouth against mine.
There was zero hesitation on my part as I kissed him back with equal intensity and hunger. Anger. Hate.
His huge hand tangled in my hair, pulling it as he tried to control our kiss, but I wasn't having a bar of that shit. Bracing my hands against his chest, I shoved him back a couple of steps, breaking our lips apart.
Archer looked dumbstruck. Confused as hell and mad.
Not that I gave him long to stand there and weigh the pros and cons of what was undoubtedly a terrible idea on both our parts. I launched myself at him, our lips meeting once more in a bruising clash of breath as I hoisted myself up his body, my legs wrapping around his waist as I took what I wanted from him.
A surge of satisfaction flared within me, gloating at having the upper hand, but it was short-lived. He spun us around and crushed me to the door, grinding his hard length against my core in a way that made me cry out in agonizing need.
No words passed between us as our teeth clashed and our tongues fought. His rough beard scratched my face like sandpaper, but fuck it. That was what concealer was made for, wasn't it? That and covering hickies.
