Lost Girl: Aston Creek High (Book 2)

by Sheridan Anne

  Throwing the cup away, I grab the whole bottle of vodka and make my way outside. This house is pretty small so there’s nowhere to go unless I want to be felt up on the dancefloor and I don’t exactly feel like letting loose right now. Tonight is about drinking as much as I can and forgetting that my world is never going to be a happy place.

  As I make my way out back, I pass Robbie McDowell and suddenly, my luck is starting to turn around. “Hey,” I demand, not giving a shit if this has to happen in front of every eye at the party. Robbie turns at my hollering and raises a brow. “Got a smoke?”

  He nods and within seconds, he’s handing over the goods while I dig into my bra and pull out some cash. “Always a pleasure,” he tells me.

  I roll my eyes and keep walking when I pass a guy trying to light up a cigarette. I pinch the lighter from between his fingers and keep walking. He calls out and after looking back over my shoulder and shooting him a sharp glare, he backs down, holding his hands up in defeat. “It’s all yours, babe.”

  I clench my jaw at his casual use of the term ‘babe.’ I’ve always hated when people use that word. Slade would call me that every now and then and despite how I loathe it, I kind of liked the way it sounded on his lips, but from anyone else, it sounds like more of a sexist term to belittle a woman despite knowing it’s just a slip of the tongue, like when guys call friends ‘man’ and ‘bro.’

  I keep going, not wanting to get into it with this guy. It’s not worth it and really, he didn’t do anything wrong. How could he know my personal preference for the word? Besides, getting in his face now would be like adding salt to the wound. I’ve already stolen his lighter, I don’t want to be much more of a bitch.

  I find an area that isn’t saturated with sweaty bodies drop down into the grass. I lean my back up against the brick wall of the house and prop my knees up. I seriously doubt this party is going to be any good so as long as I have my joint and my vodka, I should be alright.

  As I uncap the bottle and bring it to my lips, a body falls down beside me. “Shitty week?” Nessa questions, taking in my vices that I hold tightly between my fingers.

  “Uh-huh.”

  She nods across the yard to Slade and I glance up, realizing I have the perfect view of him and I instantly hate it, despite how damn nice he is to look at.

  “Geez,” she says, raising her brows. “Whatever you did must have been bad. I’ve never seen him like this.”

  “Serious? Why does everyone keep assuming I did something?”

  “Well, didn’t you?”

  “I mean…yeah, but it’s not what everyone is assuming.”

  “Really? Because we’re all assuming that you dropped your pants for Damian. At least, that’s the latest rumor.”

  “For fuck’s sake,” I groan under my breath, bringing the vodka to my lips and taking another hit. I look over at her, hating the sting that comes as I tear my gaze away from my…ex. “How’s your whole turning over a new leaf bullshit going? Because right now, I’d suggest it’s not actually going so well.”

  Nessa beams at me. “I’ll have you know that I’m doing quite well, thank you very much,” she says proudly. “Just yesterday I made things right with Kirsten Smithers.”

  “The girl with the short, pixie hair?” she nods and I dare ask the question. “What did you do to piss her off?”

  “Well,” she says with a slight smirk, clearly fond of her achievement. “We had senior camp a few months ago and I sort of put bleach in her shampoo and then her hair was all fucked-up and kept snapping. She had no choice but to cut most of it off.”

  “Are you shitting me? That’s fucking brutal.”

  “I know,” she cringes. “She was a bitch and talking shit so I took matters into my own hands. In hindsight, I probably should have thought that one through but either way, I apologized and am taking her to the salon to get her hair extensions tomorrow. It’s going to cost me a bomb but that’s the price I pay for being a bitch.”

  “I’d hate to think what else you’ve done.”

  She cringes. “It’s a long list, but I’m making my way through it.”

  “It’s one thing being a bitch to hide your insecurities and keep the monsters away, but being a bitch just to be petty isn’t right. I’m glad you’re trying to better yourself. You’re proving me wrong about the girl I thought you were when I first started here, and let me tell you, that’s not an easy thing to do.”

  “Um…thank you, I think.”

  I roll my eyes and hand her the bottle. “Here,” I tell her. “Drink up. Rule number one of being my friend is drinking half the bottle so I don’t do the whole thing by myself.”

  “I can get on board with that,” she tells me, pulling the bottle from my fingers and drinking it like water. As she brings the bottle back down, she leans back against the brick wall and smiles. “Ahh, that hit the spot.”

  “How’s your skanking going?” I ask, looking down at the joint. “Become a dirty slut yet?”

  “No,” she groans. “Everyone’s still afraid to touch me. They all sort of still see me as Slade’s even though they know he’s well…sort of with you, I guess.”

  “That sucks.”

  “Yeah,” she scoffs. “You’re telling me. How am I supposed to whore around when these guys would rather wet their dicks with clingy bitches? I mean, aren’t they supposed to be down for no-strings-attached chicks like me?”

  “You’d think,” I laugh, looking back at Slade to see Damian now perched beside him, desperately trying to gain his attention and continuously glaring at me when Slade ignores his attempts.

  I groan and bring the joint to my lips before lighting it up which is the exact same moment that Slade glances over here.

  Fuck me.

  He’s never actually said that he doesn’t approve of me smoking, but from the way he turns up his nose and scowls every time it’s mentioned, his views on the topic are made crystal clear. Just as expected, he shakes his head as though I’m the most despicable woman he’s ever laid eyes on, and for this millionth time in the last eight days, it kills me.

  The only time he’s ever looked at me like that was on that very first day when he made me feel so freaking small. He knows what he’s doing. He knows the effect he has on me. He’s doing this to make me hurt. This is my punishment; one I don’t deserve.

  I let out a sigh. This is going to be a long fucking night.

  Nessa and I sit for an hour, talking shit and drinking. The bottle is nearly gone but I’m in far too much of a mood to be enjoying it. I don’t doubt that I’ll be wobbling around the second I get to my feet, but for now, it’s helping me to forget the imposing man sitting across the yard who keeps my heart captured.

  If he doesn’t want me then surely it’s fair to let me go, right? Why won’t he let me go and put me out of my misery?

  I find myself getting to my feet, keeping my eyes narrowed on Slade. My legs feel like jelly beneath me. “Sky, where the hell are you going?” Nessa calls from below, having to raise her voice over the noise.

  I put her out of my mind. I have one job and one job only.

  I start crossing the yard, knocking into people and sending their drinks toppling down to the grass. They turn their pissed off glares my way and have a few words to say about it. I keep walking, not sparing them a single thought.

  By the time I reach him, his dark, intense eyes are already on mine and they give me pause. I don’t think I’ve ever seen them look so dark. Hell, if I didn’t know better, I’d be running in the opposite direction.

  Slade stands and looms over me, making the partiers stop and gawk while pulling out their phones, ready for a showdown. It’s no secret that something is going on between us and the rest of the school has been desperate to find out the details.

  “What do you want?” he demands, his voice low and terrifying, that tone he saves only for the enemy, one that seems so much worse than my first day at school.

  “So, you’re just going to continue
hating me for this bullshit?” I demand, waving my hands around and getting burned as my fingers brush over his heated skin. “What did you expect me to do? She was the one who stood to lose everything, not you. Have you thought about anyone else but yourself?”

  He bares down toward me and my jelly legs give out. I start falling and his vice-like grip circles my arm and hoist me back to my feet. “You think you can just come in here and air all my dirty fucking laundry?” he demands, looking at me as though he truly hates me, but it’s no secret that there’s a deep hurt beneath the surface and I hate that I’m the one who put it there. I want nothing more than to take away his pain but I don’t think that’s possible. He’s too far gone.

  Slade pushes me away and I stagger as I try to catch myself. “Go home, Skylah. You’re fucking wasted.”

  I pause, staring up at him with hurt.

  How can he be so cruel?

  Have I been wasting my time, falling for someone too closed off to feel anything real? Is he too cruel to fall in love?

  Slade shakes his head when I don’t make a move. “I’m out,” he says, aimed at Damian while his eyes remain tightly locked on mine.

  He strides past me, his long arm nearly bowling me over as he passes and I’m left staring at Damian, begging myself not to cry. He walks towards me, keeping a distance. “Slade’s right. You should go. You’ve had too much to drink. Go and sleep it off.” My tears start to fall and Damian sighs. “Just go. I’ll come and check on you tomorrow.”

  With that, he walks away, leaving me standing here, an absolute mess.

  Chapter 14

  My feet drag, one step after another as the tears stream down my face.

  I really fucked it up. It’s over. He’s too mad, too hurt to find forgiveness and peace within and it’s going to eat him alive.

  He’ll never be able to let this go. I’m always going to be that girl who he thought was special but at the first chance, betrayed his trust.

  He’s hurting so bad, but deep down I feel that it’s not me he’s pissed at. Lucien is the enemy here. His mom is the one who kept the secret and his morals are telling him how damn wrong it would be to take it out on her. Lucien isn’t here to get the brunt of his anger and that only leaves me, the piece of the puzzle that ties it all together.

  Hurting me is his way of releasing the anger he has for this whole bullshit situation. All I know is that he’s left this wide open, gaping hole in my chest that does nothing but ache.

  Headlights appear behind me and when they don’t fly past like the rest of the cars have, I groan and I look back. It’s too dark to make out the car and with the headlights shining right on my ass, I’m practically blinded by it, but there’s no doubt who it is.

  Fucking Damian.

  I narrow my eyes and flip him the bird knowing this is his way of dealing with being caught in the middle. He wants to hate me for Slade’s sake but doesn’t have enough evidence to know why he should, so he’s stuck. He’s keeping loyal to me by following me home and making sure I get there safely while also remaining loyal to Slade and not actually offering me the ride.

  I don’t need his help. I’m a big fucking girl and I’ve managed so far on my own.

  I start walking backward and hold my hands out wide. “Fuck off, Damian,” I yell into the night, knowing that prick doesn’t drive anywhere without his window down. “I don’t need your help. Why don’t you go and run off to your boss, keep being his little bitch? Why don’t you suck his dick for him too? I know you’d like that, it’s pretty big, you know? Oh, wait. Of course, you already know.”

  His only response is to turn his high beams on me which has my hand flying up in front of my face, trying to protect myself from blindness. I flip him off again, making sure to hold it there a few seconds longer than necessary, just to make sure he gets my point.

  “FUCK YOU,” I yell, remembering that Damian can sometimes be a little slow so naturally, he’ll probably need that extra little push to help him really understand the message I’m trying to get across.

  I turn back around and keep walking. All I want to do is get home and pretend tonight never happened. Wait, scrap that. I’m going to pretend this whole week didn’t happen. Who knows, maybe I’ll wake up tomorrow in Slade’s arms and realize it was all just some bullshit nightmare.

  My feet continue dragging and I curse myself for drinking so much. I should have left the vodka on the table where it belonged. Soda would have gone down a lot smoother and also wouldn’t have had me stumbling around the fucking streets like an idiot.

  I reach for the joint that I only managed to get halfway through during the party and place it between my lips as I pat down all my pockets, searching for that damn lighter. I find it tucked into the inside of my underwear and chuckle to myself and I attempt to get it out.

  There’s a slight breeze blowing through the night so actually lighting this thing proves a little harder than my alcohol fuzzed mind can handle.

  Within seconds of getting it lit, I inhale deeply and let out my breath, sighing as the hit is exactly what I need.

  Damian finally gets the hint and I take another hit as his car starts speeding up behind me and fish tales around. I’m about to watch his stupid ass disappear into the distance when the car comes to a screeching stop, forcing its front tires up over the sidewalk.

  Panic shoots through me.

  This isn’t Damian’s Mustang.

  I take a step back as my eyes scan over the black SUV. The windows are blacked out but my gut is telling me what I don’t want to know.

  Lucien Valentine.

  He’s finally come for me.

  I take another step and then another.

  My mind is telling me to run but my body isn’t responding. I should be halfway down the street by now, running back to the party where I can hide amongst the bodies. Hell, I should be getting to Blake to let him now Lucien is here. I should be running to Daniella to warn her, and hell, I should be getting my ass home to Shay and Ben to make sure that Lucien can’t hurt them either.

  But Slade…

  I need Slade.

  The door opens and my breath catches as the fear cripples me. Why the hell can’t I run? I see his black shiny shoes first as he slides down from the driver’s seat. His expensive gray suit comes next followed by the face that haunts my dreams.

  I swallow hard, hoping that can somehow help me to suck in a decent breath.

  My whole childhood flashes before my eyes. Be seen and not heard. Maybe that’s why I’m not running. I’ve spent thirteen years feeling trapped, being their perfect poster daughter who obeys every last rule and when stepping out of line, I’ve suffered the consequences, and now it’s time to face the music because running away wasn’t just stepping over the line, I jumped across that bastard and made a mockery of it as I went.

  Lucien steps away from the car and I instinctively take a step back. “I’ve been looking for you,” he rumbles, eyes dark and haunting. No hello, no asking how I’ve been, no checking up on school or my real family, just straight down to the shit storm that is my life.

  He takes another step and I take one back, turning this into some sort of sick dance. “Where’s your brother?”

  “You’ll never see him again.”

  Lucien laughs and the sound sends chills down my spine. It’s the same sound I heard as he pushed me down on my bed, the same sound that came as he tore my underwear off me, it’s the same damn sound that I heard as he forced his way inside my body.

  Images flash through my head from that night and it’s almost enough to send me spiraling. I want to crumble, but I can’t. Crumbling means he wins and I’ll be damned if I ever let that happen again.

  Why did I have to be so stupid as to drink half a fucking bottle of vodka? I dropped the ball again. I should have been ready. Hell, I went to the fucking cops only a week ago. How stupid could I have been?

  Realizing this is a fight or flight situation, I drop the joint to the ground and crush
it beneath my foot, freeing my hands in case I need to fight for my freedom.

  He takes another step, but this time I don’t move. I will not succumb to his intimidation. I’m stronger now.

  Braver. Survivor. Warrior.

  “Where’s your brother, girl?” he demands, his voice sailing far throughout the night.

  “He’s out living his life, far away from you and your psycho wife. He’ll never go back, not in a million fucking years. He hates you, he despises you. You’re nothing but trash with money bags.”

  Lucien’s hand snaps out hard and fast, slapping across my skin with a sharp sting and making my head rebound and spin. I stumble on my feet, still pissed off that I drank so much. If I was clear-headed, I would have seen that coming and could have avoided it but my stupidity won out again.

  “Don’t fucking touch me,” I scream, throwing my hands out and forcing myself forward. I slam them into his chest, holding back bile at the thought of touching this man. He’s rocked back, shocked that I had it in me to fight back. “We will never go back. We’re finally free of your bullshit.”

  Lucien’s hand flies out, latching onto my wrist with a grip tight enough to crush my bones. “You’ll fucking go wherever I say you’ll go,” he spits, pulling hard and dragging me back toward his SUV. “I. Own. You.”

  I pull back, desperate to save myself, knowing what kind of fate I’ll endure if I was taken back to that hell. I scream out, desperate to save myself.

  I claw at his hand, knowing damn well that I’m cutting deep grooves into his skin, but he doesn’t relent, treating me like misbehaved property.

  A large body is shoved between us and my wrist is yanked out of his grasp with a hard tug. My body goes flying back and I drop to the ground with a hard thud. I look up, finding a breathless Slade rearing back with a tight fist. He lets his anger free and his punch flies toward Lucien, knocking him back into the side of the SUV. “If you ever fucking touch her again, I will end you.”

  Lucien scrambles to catch himself as he spits blood onto the sidewalk. His eyes are wild, still trying to figure out what the fuck just happened.