Dare Me: The Pierce Boys of Georgia, Book One

by Brittany Tarkington

  “Nobody knows us here. And you stick out like a sore thumb,” I said.

  “Coming from you, I’ll take that as a compliment.” Caroline was smirking at me now. “It’s fine. Besides, I’m here for one reason. We can leave after I talk to him.”

  “Of course, there’s a guy involved,” I muttered, but she didn’t hear me. She was already walking through the entrance with Maci in tow.

  “You okay?” Emily caught my elbow. Her face morphed into concern. She tried to make everyone happy, she just didn’t realize not everyone was destined to be friends. And I was okay with that.

  “I’m fine.”

  My hand shot to my stomach as my nerves built. While I hated going to parties, a heads up would’ve been nice, so I could’ve at least dressed decent.

  “Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” She squeezed my arm. “We can leave whenever you want, okay?”

  I nodded.

  Emily, the golden girl, was dressed in a short dress with strappy sandals. Caroline and Maci were almost identical in their miniskirts, perfectly straightened blonde hair, and winged eyeliner.

  Dropping my eyes over my ripped jeans and chucks, I just shrugged to myself. There was nothing I could do about it at this point, so I jogged to catch up with Emily.

  The inside was everything I imagined it would be. A two-story foyer, elaborate furniture in every corner, and art hanging strategically on the wall.

  And with every teenager within a fifty-mile radius packed into the home, it somehow only managed to make this castle look like a small apartment.

  Caroline and Maci had ditched us, of course, and Emily looked like she wanted to do the same. She was standing a few feet away, teetering between the crowd and me, where I was trying to stay near to the door.

  “Come on,” she said, reaching for my hand.

  “I’ll catch up with you. I need to find the restroom,” I said.

  “No way. I’m not leaving you alone.”

  “Do you really think someone’s going to bother me?” I asked. Her eyes slid down me, taking it all in from my RBF to my ripped jeans.

  Smiling, “Come find me when you’re done.”

  “Will do.”

  It didn’t take a lot of convincing on my part. She was stepping backwards the entire conversation, and the moment I swore I’d be fine, she was off. The crowd swallowed her. No doubt she was running after Caroline. As much as that grated my nerves, I wouldn’t be the asshole friend who stood in the way of what Emily wanted.

  The truth was I didn’t need to find the restroom, I just wanted as much space between that trio and me as humanly possible. As much as Emily tried to force it, we were no foursome. Caroline was a bitch, Maci was a brainless follower, and Emily was a peacemaker. It only made it harder on her when I was around. So, I only hung out with her when we were alone. Until nights like this happened.

  I let out a low growl as I kicked off the front door. Taking inventory of my surroundings before picking a destination. The staircase snaked against the wall, leading to a dark hallway, but every other direction was filled with kids.

  If nothing else, I could see how the other half lived. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve lived comfortably my whole life, but things have been going downhill since dad died last year. My heart quenched when I thought of him. Held in a squeezing fist, bleeding until nothing was left. That’s how I’d felt since he left me alone with mom. Living with her was absolute hell.

  I started up the stairs. I could find a quiet corner and read on my phone until Emily came looking for me. When I got to the landing, I flipped on the light switch closest to me.

  “Whoa.”

  An open floor plan was in front of me. To my left, a den with a huge sectional, and on my right, a library. A dark hallway was beyond the great room. It was dark aside from a few doors that light spilled through the cracks.

  No one was around. Perfect.

  The best room I’d ever walk into, besides this library, is an empty one. I’m not attacked by the primal need to fit in. No competition. No small talk. Just me alone with my thoughts. The way I prefer it.

  I dragged my finger along the first shelf, mentally taking in the titles.

  Boring.

  Boring.

  More boring.

  Oh!

  I stopped along the back wall. The classics. They looked like first editions. Knowing I shouldn’t touch them, but wanting to anyway, was an internal battle where I knew I wouldn’t win.

  I peeked over my shoulder, scanning the room. I was still alone, and free to commit the ultimate sin — going into strangers’ houses and touching first editions. I pulled Wuthering Heights out, smiling.

  I was a slow reader. In fact, I had to adjust my font on my kindle. My teachers shoved audio books in my direction when we had assignments. With my dyslexia, sometimes reading didn’t come easy for me, but it was a struggle I’d gladly fight against the rest of my life. Escaping reality, if only for a moment, and all thanks to a few beautiful people who dared to share the most private thoughts of their mind with the world.

  There was a leather chair closest to me. I hugged the book to my chest and slid over before dropping to the seat. My excitement was cut short when a scream ripped through the air.

  “GET OFF ME!”

  I sprang up, wiping my head in the direction of the hallway. The same two lights were on, and it was quiet. Eerily so.

  I padded down the hall, sticking my ear to each door.

  “STOP! HELP ME!” A sobbing girl screamed. I jerked in that direction. Across the hall, there was a room without light, the door began shaking.

  I jiggled the door handle, but someone was pressed against it.

  Fuck!

  I took a step back, looking around my surroundings, hoping someone would show up. No such luck.

  Kicking off the wall, I slammed my foot into the door. It crashed open; this time no one was holding it close. I slapped around the wall, desperately reaching for a light switch. Finally, the light snapped on.

  A girl, probably a freshman, was in the middle of the room, hugging her middle. Tears streamed down her face. Her eyes wide as saucers took me in, bouncing between the douche bag in front of her and me.

  He faced me. Average height, not totally unfortunate looking, but that sadistic smirk spreading across his average face was enough to make any girl run in the opposite direction.

  “You really shouldn’t have done that.” That was him. Threatening me. And honestly even his voice shook me to my core. Dangerous and unhinged.

  I looked at the young girl. “Get out of here,” I said.

  She was torn. Fear radiated off of her. She started to run, but he caught her wrist and I saw fucking red.

  Clinching the only thing I had my hands on, I took a step closer to him. He cocked his head to his, but before he could question me, I swung that beautiful, first edition copy of Wuthering Heights right into his nose. His head jerked back with a crack.

  “RUN!” I told her, and this time she didn’t hesitate. She flew past me, and I was on her flank.

  I should tell someone. He’ll just do this to another girl, but this time he may succeed, if he hadn’t already. That thought sent a tremor through my body.

  She was rounding the landing, about to make it to the stairs, sobs still wracking her small body. When we got to safety, I’d hug her, but for now we needed to get the fuck out of here.

  She was on the stairs now. And I almost made it.

  When you’re attacked unexpectedly, it’s a different type of pain. Red hot, searing pain mixed with confusion. Why is this happening? What’s happening? Where am I hurt? All beautifully packaged with my fight or flight reflex that was about to kick this guy’s ass.

  It flashed through my mind at the speed of light before my brain registered someone had ripped me to the ground from my hair. Kicking and screaming, I fought against him, but it was no use.

  “You regret it now, hu
h?”

  I stilled and looked up at him. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me upset. That’s what the sadistic prick wanted.

  With my lips pressed into a thin, trembling line, I shook my head.

  “Better me than her.”

  I didn’t quite believe it, but I would tell myself that. She was young, pure. I knew how the world worked. I was used to the ugly pieces that fit together in the puzzle of my life.

  “You dumb bitch.”

  He reached for my jeans, yanking at the button. I snapped my eyes shut. A tear streaked down my cheek, falling to the floor. I cursed, wishing I could turn off my emotions for five minutes.

  His weight shifted, before releasing me entirely. When I heard a thump, my eyes flew open. He was crumpled on the floor at my side. Scrambling to my feet, I fought for my breath, sucking in all the air around me.

  A pair of black combat boots were next to his unconscious body. My eyes slid up. First to the dark jeans, then the black fitted tee and stopped on a face.

  Not just any face. God was in a good mood the day he sculpted this one. Strong jawline, sharp cheekbones, dark eyes, all underneath a mop of dark brown hair.

  I’m staring. I’m in shock.

  Say something.

  “Thank you,” I muttered.

  He didn’t look content with my apology. He looked away. His jaw ticked, almost like my very existence annoyed him.

  “That was fucking stupid.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You. Going after that guy. By yourself,” He let out a long breath. “Fucking stupid.”

  “What was I supposed to do? Let him…hurt her?” I folded my arms across my chest. I didn’t trust myself to not hit a second guy in one night.

  “Get someone. You could’ve came downstairs and told one of the guys what was going on, we would’ve been up in a minute to beat that fucker.”

  My eyebrows pinched in together. “I’m supposed to let some guy save her?” I snorted. “Guys look after guys, right? I don’t know any of you, how am I supposed to know what kind of place I’m at?”

  He was still tense, glaring at me. “Then why are you walking around alone?”

  Yeah, good question.

  “Getting the hell away. I hate parties.” Without a second glance, I dropped my head and walked away from him. “I’m leaving. You won’t have to worry about what I do here anymore.”

  “Did you come alone?” He asked.

  “I came with friends.” I kept walking, rounding the steps, taking the first one slowly.

  “You owe me a book.”

  I froze.

  Slowly turning to face him, I sucked in a sharp breath. With his fist shoved in his pocket, his mouth pressed into a thin line. He was intimidating from any angle but especially this one, one step above me glowering down at me like a predator who tracked down his prey. His eyes pinned me in place, holding me there against my will.

  I swallowed around the lump in my throat, waiting for him to say something. Deciding the embarrassment wasn’t worth it, I turned and took the stairs two at a time.

  As I searched for Emily in the level below, I was very aware that a pair of eyes were burning a hole into the top of my head.

  This was his house. I destroyed a book that cost more than my first year of college would. And I had a distinct feeling I’d just pissed off the wrong person.

  I cracked my eyes open, waiting.

  No sounds greeted me. The party was finally fucking over. Rhett, my oldest brother, threw these a lot. Our parents had basically given up on him.

  My brother, Ryder, the damn middle child he could get away with murder because our parents were never looking after him.

  And that just left me, their youngest and the last hope in their line of boys suitable to carry on the Pierce name. The legacy. The company. And all the other bullshit that comes with being wealthy in a small city.

  The only flaw in that little plan? They were never home. To say that they don’t know who I’ve become would be the understatement of the year.

  Antisocial.

  Asshole.

  Quitter of sports.

  Add the possibility of being a common criminal to the list after the things I’ve done with Rhett, and you have every parent’s worst nightmare. Me.

  You can’t blame me though if I’m being honest, blame the two people who created me and decided they could travel the world and put their social calendar above parenting.

  My room was bright, rays of sunshine flickering through the blinds of my windows. My black out curtains were shoved to the side, allowing in more light than I ever thought possible.

  Sighing, I ran a hand down my face and pushed them from my mind.

  The flat screen hanging on my wall across from me was on but muted. Everything looked the same. I’d had nights where the idiots my brother invited had come into my room, but after I installed a second lock, it had put a stop to that. I still checked just to be on the safe side. Because there’s nothing worse than waking up to a naked chick from your high school in your bed. While they all fawn over me, I found them childish.

  Kicking back my black comforter, I walked to my door and unlocked both locks.

  I swung my bedroom door open, doing a quick surveillance and hoping to hell there were no stragglers left behind from last night.

  Completely empty. Not a sound. I slammed my door shut again. Walking back to my bed, a book half hanging off my nightstand caught my attention.

  I locked myself in my room when Rhett pulled this shit, but something had made me come out last night.

  When any decent guy hears ‘get off me’ screamed over and over, they see what the fuck is up. I’m no saint, but a dude isn’t going to take advantage of a girl in front of me.

  That’s when I saw her. She wasn’t dressed like every other chick at this party. She wasn't looking for attention, but the moment she hit that guy with a book, she found it.

  So tiny and fierce, acting like she could take a guy twice her size.

  My jaw ticked. I squeezed the book in my hand and threw myself back on the bed again. A smudge of blood lined the corner, but blood wasn’t anything I’m not used to.

  But she was different. I studied her on that step, I saw her. Saw through her.

  She’d tried to be the hero and got herself in over her head. Reckless and broken. Just as I was. The difference between her and I? I knew I could hold my own. She threw herself into harm’s way, and for a reason I can’t understand, it made my blood boil.

  I never gave anyone a second glance. People’s feelings and wellbeing didn’t particularly matter to me. And for the life of me, I couldn’t place why I got so pissed at her for doing the exact damn thing I would’ve done.

  It had to be the party. I hate when Rhett throws them. I was just pissed because I had to leave my room.

  A knock pulled me from glaring at the book in my hands. I snapped it shut, opened my drawer, and shoved it in.

  “Yeah?” I pulled myself up, propping my back against my headboard.

  “Can I come in?” That was Rhett.

  He only came over when my parents weren’t home. Just to spite them. They haven’t been on good terms in at least five years. Since he graduated high school. He didn’t go to college or choose the path they wanted him to. After he started driving nice cars and flaunting cash in their face, they adopted a ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ relationship with him. I respected the hell out of him for it though.

  “Yeah.”

  He swung the door open, is huge frame taking up the space of the entire door. I’d been told we favored, but I didn’t look like a six-foot four ‘roid giant. The dark hair, dark eyes, and strong jawline, yes. Other than that, no. That’s where our similarities ended.

  “You up for a run?”

  I knew what that meant.

  His mouth hooked into a sinister smirk. Folding his arms across his chest, he looked intimidating
as fuck, but I’d never admit that out loud. His head couldn’t afford to grow any bigger, I feared it would burst and leave what little brain matter was left in there all over my clean room.

  I clipped my head in a nod.

  “Let me change.”

  “We leave in five,” he said, but he was already out of my door.

  I walked over to my closet, pulling out all black, my heart was hammering in my chest. This was the perfect fucking distraction. I couldn’t sit in my bed all day, staring at that damn black book and wondering where that girl had come from.

  Mom never makes breakfast. Not that I’m complaining because I prefer solitude in the morning. Coffee and soft music while safely tucked away in my bedroom, isolated until I have to throw myself into the school day.

  So, I know there’s a calculated reason as I sit across from her today. She’s chipping away at the design on her favorite coffee cup, avoiding my eyes.

  Every light is on, illuminating every white surface in this kitchen.

  Fucking mornings.

  I screw my eyes shut and blink before leaning back in my chair.

  “What is it?”

  A nervous laugh escapes her puckered lips. “Can’t your mom make you breakfast without a motive?”

  “No,” I deadpanned.

  I could be rude, especially in the morning. I was a teenage girl. It was my God-given right to be an asshole. She never got an attitude from me, so she was long overdue when it came to eye rolling, sighing, and smarting off.

  Her eyes slid up to mine. A frown tugged her mouth down, and a tiny part of me felt guilt. But that never lasted long. The truth is we were never the family to eat together. She never cared about my life. When dad died, she fell apart harder than ever, and I’ve been on my own since that day.

  I didn’t mind, I guess. Dad and I were closer when I was younger, more than I’ve ever been with my mom. I don’t blame her; she just didn’t inherit the maternal gene she should’ve got from grandma. In my eighteen short years on this planet, I’d realized people can only love you to the best of their ability, and that’s not always the way you need to be loved. It’s not her fault, but it sucks it all turned out like this.