He came closer, still admiring the drawing, and I used the opportunity to stare at him, amazed at how every time I saw him he was even more beautiful than before.
“Such a lovely drawing, Riley. You’re talented, lass.”
“Thanks,” I said, pleased by the compliment. “I drew it when I was fourteen. My mom entered it into a contest and I won first place.” I can still remember how proud both my parents had been, displaying the drawing
and the blue ribbon on the fridge for all to see.
“My mother enjoyed painting with water-colors,” he said, pride in his voice. “She would spend hours at the easel.”
“Do you, or— did you have any hobbies?”
“Of course. I enjoyed hunting…fishing…fencing…archery.”
I smiled. “You sound like a man’s man.”
He laughed under his breath, his wide grin making my heart skip. “A man’s man, hmm? I will have you know that I also enjoy poetry.”
Now that surprised me. I would have never pegged him as a poet. “Really?”
“Yes, and I also enjoyed reading novels…when time allowed.”
“When you weren’t hunting, fishing, fencing, or shooting your bow.” I couldn’t keep the sarcasm from my voice.
“Exactly.” A smile teased the corners of his mouth. “What about you? What other hobbies do you enjoy?”
“I used to dance. My mom enrolled me in my first class when I was five.”
“And yet you don’t dance any longer?”
“No. It was strange because I woke up one day and I was over it.” My loss of interest in dance had only been part of the reason I quit, but mostly because I’d fallen in with Ashley and the wrong crowd. Our little group considered anything that didn’t have to do with partying completely lame. Everything I had been passionate about had gone by the wayside.
“Life is too short to live with regret,” he said softly.
I lived with regret every day of my life, and I doubted that would change anytime soon. “Do you have any regrets?” I asked, anxious to turn the tables on him.
He shook his head. “No.”
I lifted a brow. “Oh come on…everyone has regrets.”
His shoulders lifted in a shrug. “Honestly, I had a good life, and all the hardships I en-dured only served to make me stronger.”
I wish I could say the same, but I didn’t feel stronger from the hardships I had en-dured. Instead, I felt broken.
“Can I ask you something personal?”
“Of course. You can ask me anything,” he said, sitting down on the edge of my bed.
“Did it hurt to die?” I blurted, not wanting to dredge up bad feelings for him, but I was curious as to what my mom had gone through.
“Yes, there was pain, but it passed soon enough.”
It wasn’t the answer I wanted, and I instantly regretted having asked it. “I’m sorry.”
He ran a hand through his silky hair, and I have to admit that I ached to touch the strands for myself—to feel the texture
against my fingers. I wondered if he couldn’t read my thoughts because he continued to stare at me, his gaze searching my face.
My mouth went dry. I recognized the heat in his stare. It was the same heat I felt rushing through my veins whenever I looked at him.
He suddenly glanced at the clock, as though there was someplace else he had to be. “Seriously, it is late and you need your rest.”
“I’m not tired.” I didn’t want him to leave already. “Will you stay with me for awhile?”
“I’ll stay for a bit—at least until you fall asleep.”
“You’ll come tomorrow?” Oh my God, I was sounding borderline desperate, kind of like a needy girlfriend.
When I glanced at him, his gaze had shifted downward, making me aware that all I was wearing was a royal blue cami and boy cut undies.
As I watched him watch me, I wondered what it would feel like to kiss him.
“Yes, I’ll see you later today,” he said softly, resting a hand on my leg.
I wished there wasn’t a comforter and sheets between us.
“Goodnight,” I said, trying to get my racing heart to slow down.
“Goodnight.” Ian’s voice was silky smooth, and his hand didn’t move from my leg as he bent and kissed my forehead. “Now go to sleep, Riley.”
Chapter 12
“Riley, you’ve got company!” my dad called from downstairs.
“Company?” I set the book aside, checked my reflection in the mirror and wondered if I should change from my T-shirt and sweats into something nicer.
Deciding against changing, I headed down the stairs, and was surprised to see Megan and another girl, who I hadn’t met before, standing in the entryway.
“Ah, here she is,” my dad said, looking elated that I had company. He had come home early for a change, but had gone straight to his study. Now he lingered, much to my annoyance.
“Hey Megan,” I said, giving my dad a look that said to please go away. “What’s up?”
Megan’s curly red hair was up off her shoulders, and she had on a lot of eye makeup. She wore a cute low-cut shirt, tight
jeans, and five-inch heels. I wondered what the special occasion was, and hoped she wasn’t going to ask me to go out. I wanted to wait and see if Ian finally showed.
I glanced at the other girl. Her long, platinum blonde hair was straight and had lots of layers. She had an oval face with a broad nose and nice, full lips. Taller than me, she was curvaceous, but not quite as busty as Megan. “Hey, I’m Cassandra,” she said, her voice surprisingly husky.
“I’m Riley.”
Cassandra nodded, and I felt a certain amount of hostility coming from her, which confused me.
“Cassandra and I thought we’d drop by to see how you were doing. I didn’t get a chance to talk to you that much the other night.”
Her gaze shifted to my dad for a brief second. “I wanted to check and see if you had a good time.”
She’d been so hammered, I had to wonder just how much of the night she remembered. I glanced at my dad, and lifted my brows, hoping he’d get the hint that he was embarrassing me in front of my new friends.
Apparently he got the hint, because he walked toward his study. “Well, it was nice meeting you, ladies,” he said, keeping the door open.
“You too, Mr. Williams,” Megan said.
“So do you like Johan?” Cassandra asked abruptly, an obvious edge to her voice.
Beside her, Megan stood up straighter and avoided eye contact with me.
Now I understood why they’d dropped by. It wasn’t to befriend me, but to pump me for information.
I shrugged. “Johan’s a nice guy and all, but I don’t really know him.”
“But do you want to know him?” Cassandra asked, crossing her arms over her chest and cocking her hip.
I crossed my arms over my chest. “I’m not looking for a boyfriend, if that’s what you’re asking.”
Cassandra glanced at Megan and smiled.
Megan’s cheeks had flushed, and she looked ready to bolt. I remembered girls like her at my old high-school, and I admit I was disappointed with Megan. I’d honestly thought she would become a good friend, but maybe I was wrong. I’d been wrong about so-called friends before…
“But why were you holdin’ his hand then?” Cassandra asked, and it was all I could do not to walk to the front door, open it, and tell them to leave.
Instead, I lifted my chin. “I lost my bal-ance, that’s all, end of story.”
“But he walked you home.” Cassandra’s voice sounded snarky and accusing.
“Yes, he did,” I replied, ready to snap.
“But like I said, nothing happened.”
Megan turned to her friend. “See, I told you it was nothing.”
Cassandra seemed to accept my explanation—but even then, I had the feeling she’d be keeping an eye on me.
“Why weren’t you at the party?” I asked Cassandra.
“A wise decision,” my father said from his study.
“Excuse me a sec,” I said, walking over to the study door. I shut it loudly, and both Cassandra and Megan laughed. Thankfully, it seemed to break up the tension.
Shane came down the stairs just then, and I noticed Megan straighten and fluff her hair.
“Hey guys,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “What are you up to?”
Cassandra immediately perked up.
“We’re headed to the glen.”
“What’s the glen?” Shane asked, checking her out. God, guys were so obvious.
“A place a couple miles up the road where we hang out and don’t have to worry about anyone ruining our fun,” Cassandra said, keeping her voice low.
“Do you want to come?” Megan asked, suddenly glancing at me.
Cassandra didn’t look like she wanted me to come…but she did seem to want Shane there, because she grinned at him like an idiot.
Megan lifted a brow. “So, do you want to come with us, Riley?”
· · · · ·
The glen ended up being a large meadow surrounded by giant oaks and towering fir trees. It was the perfect hiding place from
adults, and now it was filled with about twenty-five teenagers.
In the center of the glen a large fire blazed in a massive stone pit. A few of the guys had set their stereos on the roofs of their cars, the music blasting, but not loud enough that we couldn’t hear each other talk.
It reminded me of a place back home called Frenchman’s Bar on the river, where we’d go every weekend to hang out with friends.
We’d park our cars, sit on the river bank, and there had been lots of drinking and partying.
I remembered thinking life was so perfect.
How little I knew that within months my world would be turned upside down.
“Johan’s here,” Megan said, nudging me and bringing me back to the present.
Johan stepped out of a sports car dressed in a black and gray pullover sweater and dark washed jeans. He grinned and I had a feeling he knew exactly what that smile did to girls, myself included.
Ironically, I saw Ian’s face flash in my mind at that moment. Although I had only just met him, what I was beginning to feel for him was more than friendship. I recalled the way he had looked at me last night—how his eyes looked darker, more intense, his gaze sliding down my body.
“Hey,” Johan said, white teeth flashing, pulling me out of my thoughts.
“Hey,” I replied, aware of others watching us. Apparently our spontaneous hand holding at Milo’s party had caused speculation. I felt stupid about reaching for his hand the other night, and wondered if I should say something to Johan about it. Or maybe it would be better to just make it very clear that I wasn’t interested in a boyfriend.
“I was wondering if you were going to make it, Johan,” Cassandra said from behind me.
Johan barely glanced in her direction, which made me curious what the story was
with them. A one-sided attraction perhaps––or maybe they had been together.
Whatever the case, the last thing I needed was drama.
“You guys want to play Truth or Dare?” a tall, slightly chunky guy with messed up teeth asked. I recognized him from registration. He had stood behind me in line, and he’d been friendly enough, but I hated the way he’d stared at my boobs rather than make eye contact. Now he barely glanced at me, and even gave off a vibe that he didn’t like me very much, which I found strange since we hadn’t said two words to each other.
· · · · ·
Twelve of us ended up playing Truth or Dare. We sat cross-legged in a circle close to the fire, including Shane, who holding onto a half-empty pint of whiskey, looked more than a little buzzed already. If I had to
hazard a guess given his bloodshot eyes, I’d say he was blazed too, and I was worried how the night would unfold if he kept it up. After Milo’s party, everyone probably thought I was a buzzkill and it was time to redeem myself if I was going to fit in.
The tall guy with bad teeth and attitude to match was Tom, and he had spent the past few minutes breaking up twigs, placing them in his fist, and holding them out to each player. Everyone in the circle drew a stick, and as luck would have it, I picked a shorter one. I breathed a sigh of relief when Shane pulled a long one.
Richie lifted the smallest stick and everyone laughed—a few people making cracks about it matching his dick size, which drew even more laughter.
“Truth or Dare, Richie?” Tom asked, crossing his arms over his chest and using his fingers to push out his biceps.
Richie narrowed his eyes. “Uh, let’s go with truth.”
“There was a breakin at the castle the other day. Were you responsible?”
My stomach clenched. I glanced at Shane.
Our gazes met and held for a split second before he quickly looked away.
“No, it wasn’t me.”
A couple people in the crowd teasingly called him a liar, but he lifted his hands, palms out, toothy smile in place. “God’s truth, I wasn’t responsible. I have an alibi.
Ask your mum, Tom,” he said in a husky voice. “She’ll vouch for me.”
Laughter erupted all around.
“Feck’n wanker,” Tom said, shaking his head.
“Tom’s dad is the police chief in town,”
Megan said under her breath.
I nodded, hoping his attitude toward me didn’t have anything to do with his dad’s suspicion or something like that.
“I didn’t hear about any breakin,” Megan said, and I sat up straighter, all ears.
“I heard my father talking to his partner about it on the phone.” Tom cleared his throat. “Nothing was stolen, so that’s why my dad figured it might be kids.”
I hoped the case had been dropped. The last thing I needed was the police showing up at my door.
“Megan, you’re next,” Richie said. “Truth or Dare?”
“Truth.”
“Word has it you kissed Cassandra at Russell’s party last weekend. Is it true?”
I could see her face turn red in the fire-light and knew the rumor was true. Megan glanced at Cassandra who didn’t look at all embarrassed. In fact, she flashed Johan a smug grin.
“Yes, I did,” Megan admitted. “But I was really wasted.”
The boys in the group hooted and hollered, and Milo high-fived the boy next to him. I never could understand why guys liked the idea of two girls kissing. I once saw a picture of two guys making out and it didn’t excite me in the least.
“And I’m next,” Tom said, puffing out his chest.
“Bring it on, Megan,” he said with a cocky smile.
“Sure,” she said, sitting up straighter.
“Truth or Dare.”
“Dare.”
The crowd roared their approval.
Megan’s eyes squinted as she looked into the darkness. “You must walk to the dueling tree…with your pants around your ankles.”
A few snickered, but Tom stood up, un-buckled his pants, and dropped them to his ankles to reveal a pair of snug, white boxer briefs. I was surprised he was so cocky given the size––or lack of––his package. A few of
the other girls must have been thinking the same thing because they burst into giggles, and a few of the guys exchanged mocking grins.
Meanwhile, Tom started off toward the tree at a slow pace. The group watched, most laughing as he stumbled and fell on his face a few times.
I became nervous. It was my turn next and already my palms started to sweat.
Unfortunately it would be Tom doling out my punishment, and given his attitude toward me, I had a feeling he wasn’t going to play nice.
By the time Tom made it back to the group, his face was flushed and sweaty. He pulled up his pants, zipped and buttoned them, before swiping his drink from his friend’s hand and taking a large gulp, his throat convuls
ing with each swallow.
“Truth or Dare, Riley,” he asked, wiping his lips with the back of his hand.
“Dare,” I said, and the crowd responded with a few ‘oh and ah’s’. Clearly they had expected me to pick a truth question instead.
Assuming I’d be making out with Megan in the next minute or so, I fished for a breath strip in my jean’s pocket.
Tom stared at me for a long, uncomfortable minute, which made me even more nervous. His gaze shifted to Cassandra for a second, and then he cleared his throat, drawing out my agony. “You’re going to spend an hour in the mausoleum…alone.”
The crowd went silent, except for a few people who looked excited and even a little shocked.
The mausoleum. Why had he chosen that particular dare for me? I wondered. And what had that look he’d shared with Cassandra been about? Had Megan told Cassandra about my interest in ghosts? I glanced at Megan and her sheepish expression said it all.
Damn, I had bad judgment when it came to new friends.
Megan opened her mouth as though to say something, but I looked away.
Apprehension rushed up my spine. “The mausoleum?” I said, just to confirm I’d heard him right.
“Did I stutter?” Tom said, one corner of his mouth lifted in a sneer.
What a dick.
“No fucking way,” Shane said, shaking his head. “That’s just wrong.”
“Maybe you should go in her place then?”
Tom dared.
“No problem,” Shane replied, looking ready to rip Tom’s head off. If he was a year or two older, I wouldn’t have been so worried, but Tom was a lot bigger than Shane.
“It’s my dare and I’ll do it,” I said, loud enough so everyone could hear me.
“That’s not fair.” Megan glanced at Milo, as though she expected him to help change
Tom’s mind. “He should pick something else—something less terrifying.”
“Come on, Tom,” Johan remarked. “She just moved here. We don’t want to scare her off first thing.”
I appreciated them all coming to my aid and all, but I didn’t want or need anyone’s help.
“It’s fine,” I said, standing and steeling myself for what was to come. “I’ll do it.”
“Are you sure?” Tom asked.
The Deepest Cut Page 7
