I can’t help myself. “If you think you can manage,” I comment to her as she passes our table. She stops, her body rigid, and stares at me with a scowl, “we need to order.” My tone is condescending because I am a first class dick. I see her nostrils flare as she takes a deep breath before she closes the distance between us.
“Do you need menus?” Evie asks tightly as she jerks the pad from her pocket.
“Do you need an attitude adjustment?” I fire back.
“Are you giving me crap?” she snaps.
“It’s a fair question, considering the show you just put on.” Total dick.
“I’d like three eggs, bacon, and toast,” Preston butts in. “Coffee, too.”
Evie tears her eyes from our stare-off and writes down his order. “And for Mr. Personality?” I want to laugh because the girl’s got balls. I also want to spank that round little ass of hers I’d already noticed, because no one has the nerve to speak to me like that. She’s stupid, but I’ve got to give her props. Her little display is amusing, to say the least, and irritating. Too bad for her I’m going to enjoy fucking with her.
“The same,” I don’t even bother to look at her, because why? I know there’s a tempest raging in her green eyes behind the black framed glasses, ready to unleash on me, and damn, if that doesn’t make me want to bend her over.
“I’ll get your coffee,” she mumbles as she marches away, those Converse playing the same tune as she goes.
Preston’s strumming his fingers on the Formica tabletop, a lazy smile on his privileged face. “Why did you have to be an ass?”
I lean forward and rest a forearm on the table and take another slow sip of coffee. “Because I am,” and give him my typical Do-I-give-two-shits? look. I add a little more sugar and cream to the cup. “You know her?”
“Evelyn Monroe. Goes to the early college school. She, her dad, and her brother moved here about six months ago. The brother goes to the public school, eighth grade. The father is a lawyer, DA’s office,” Preston rattles off the information like Google, because this guy seems to know things regular people should have no reason to. Good friend to have.
“Is that right,” I stir the coffee seemingly disinterested, but wondering why the hell he knows so much about her.
“That’s right. And she’s hot as hell. I’d bet she’d be a nice lay,” his gaze slides to the counter where Evie’s pouring his coffee, his tone indifferent and amused. It’s like that for the rich, they’re so used to getting what they want, therefore nothing has meaning. I, on the other hand, take nothing for granted.
My hand tightens around the cup as the desire to smash his face in hits me in the gut out of nowhere. What the fuck? Pushing the feeling aside, I tap the spoon lightly on the rim and set it on the saucer. “Did you tap that already?”
“Not yet,” his smile widens as he nods at the approaching hurricane in red Converse. “But I will.”
The fuck you will.
She’s a foot from the table and Preston watched her every step, my temper escalating for some unknown reason as I watched him watch her. The decision to destroy this girl was made the first moment I laid eyes on her, but I’d have to be in a coma not to agree with Preston. That attitude and that mouth could be a helluva of a combination. “Do you need more cream and sugar?” she asks.
“Just stick your finger in it,” the piss poor come on slips from his mouth. I want to roll my eyes as I curl my fist to stop from plowing it down his throat.
Chill, Lucas, she’s just another entitled broad with a nice rack. Just another piece of ass. One that’s going to be mine to fuck with.
I can see her body start to relax as a real smile lifts the corners of her mouth, the first one since she’s walked through the doors. “Gross, Preston, is that really how you pick up girls?”
Wait. What?
My reaction is involuntary and immediate as my eyes move from him to her. How fucking friendly are they? She knows his name, for fucks sake.
“If you two are finished being pathetic…,” I tap a finger on the table, two seconds away from throwing Preston out of the restaurant.
I hear Amanda snicker as she rounds the corner of the counter and comes our way.
“Jesus, Lucas, why don’t you try being human for once, you might just like it,” Preston laughs.
Because I’m not, that’s why, asshole.
That’s when the shit hits the fan. And me.
Evie lunges forward, sending the hot cup of coffee all over me. Everything in that moment moves as if in slow motion. Evie’s body jerking, Preston’s eyes going wide, and Amanda staring right at me with an evil grin as she keeps walking.
“OH MY GOD. I’m so sorry!” Evie stammers as she yanks the towel from the waist band of her apron and proceeds to smash it repeatedly on the spilled coffee on my crotch.
“Holy shit, dude,” Preston barks out a laugh. “Are you okay?”
“Do you always do things that make you apologize,” I growl with my lap on fire.
“I didn’t do it,” wipe, wipe, wipe, “I mean, I did, but, someone bumped into me,” rub, rub, rub.
That shit she’s doing, rubbing the hell out of me with her face practically laying on my lap, is probably not the best idea. At least not in the middle of the diner.
“Look, Storm, if you want to give me a hand job, why don’t you just say so? I’m sure we can work something out.” Because her little hand has been working my dick non-stop.
She jerks straight up and her jaw drops, her complexion turning a sweet shade of oh-shit. “There is something seriously wrong with you,” she practically snarls at me.
I look down and lift the towel. “Nope, everything seems to be working just fine, despite the scalding.” My growing hard-on is noticeable through my khaki shorts. Because her hand working my dick, with or without hot coffee, what else is going to happen?
Her gaze lands on my lap. And, damn if I don’t feel her eyes through the burning and thrumming on my shaft. “If you’d like to take a closer look, I’d be happy to oblige.” She’s just turned this whole fucking with her thing into overdrive.
She slowly drags her eyes to meet mine and there’s no sign of embarrassment in their icy stare. If looks could cut, she’d have gutted me from groin to face. “My bad. Maybe next time it’ll be a knife.” Her little mouth curls into a sly grin before she turns and walks away.
Touché, Storm. Too bad for you, shit’s about to get real.
Covered in coffee and me now the focus of attention, I watch as the hurricane moves off shore, probably to gain momentum to prepare for her next landfall. Bring it, baby.
“What the hell did you call her?” Preston’s still laughing, the shithead.
Throwing the towel Evie left on my lap on the table, “Damn chick is like a fucking hurricane.”
“She roasted you,” he’s enjoying himself entirely too much.
“That was her second mistake,” I reply as I watch Evie move through the restaurant like she owns the place, with an attitude bigger than her mouth.
Wrong, sweetheart.
“Oh, yeah? What was the first?”
I follow her with my eyes, looking forward to the moment I can go in for the kill. “Wrong place, wrong time.”
Because no one, no fucking body, makes me look bad.
Because little Evie doesn’t know the hell that’s about to rain down on her.
Because Evie was definitely at the wrong place at the wrong time.
This is my town. I own the streets, the beaches, the sidewalks, and the alleys. I own the lies and the secrets and hidden agendas. I own the favors and alley deals. I. Own. Every. Fucking. Thing.
Little Evie might be a storm, but I’m the demon that is going to ruin her.
CHAPTER 2
Apparently the universe decided today was going to be shit all over Evie day. Life has had a lot of that, I should be used to it by now. Being late for work was the highlight, thanks to Jax. It only went downhill fast from there, espec
ially after the spilled coffee debacle. And the alley last night.
I couldn’t really blame Jax, he’s had a tough time. When our mother lost her battle with cancer five years ago and died, me and dad took it hard, but Jackson was lost.
Me, I’m a little angry, a bit bitter, and sometimes I scream so loud inside, it leaves raw, bloody gashes on my soul.
When Jax finally started to get settled and coming into his own, we moved here, and this place sucks, he had to start all over again. I’m getting ready to be out on my own when I leave for college in a few months. Being a tween is hard enough, getting thrown into an ocean of spoiled, over indulgent, pubescent brats makes it even worse. I felt sorry for my little brother. However, I’m not entirely sure if Jax wasn’t playing me today, the little shit. I’ve had to be mother, sister, and friend to him for years, and he knows what buttons to push to get what he wants. I wasn’t having it today, but that still didn’t stop him from dragging his feet and making me late. That got me a warning. Spilling coffee all over some rude, entitled asshole, that asshole, made sure the rest of the day turned to crap.
Lucas King. The new bane of my existence. I’d heard about him, he’s some kind of a king around here, a legend, and everything I’d heard couldn’t prepare me for the guy in the flesh. He looks like the illegitimate love child spawn between all the Kardashian women and Satan, beautiful and evil as hell. I’ve heard so many whispers about him, most of them by girls who insist he’s got a penis made of gold, and he knows how to use it. With his attitude, I bet he believes it. I wanted to barf. Some people say he’s a drug dealer, others say he’s a thief, others whisper he killed someone and disposed of the body out in the swamps, then let the alligators take care of the evidence. But one thing they all agree on is he’s the one guy you go to if you need something, no matter what it is. He can get it, for a price. His I-give-zero-fucks attitude only corroborates that assessment, that and the way he acts like he rules everyone and everything. The fact he’s got a perfectly proportioned beautiful face is a major bonus for the arrogant asshole, an unfair advantage to his obviously over inflated ego. Nobody should have everything; it should be illegal in some cosmic way. And within two minutes, I became his enemy. His expression dripped disdain and intolerance, and I have no doubt if he could rid himself of my presence for the rest of his life, he’d be a happy man. I have a strange feeling I would too because I’m certain he could make my life a living hell.
Jesus, why’d Amanda do that?
She pushed me on purpose, the hateful little tramp. She was one of the flock of females who seemed to worship his dick, gushing to the other waitresses about the amazing sex they’d had. One of the girls said it was no big deal, he and his friends have dipped their sausages into half the town, the other half are lined up waiting for their turn. The sad part is I wasn’t on either side then, and I’m even further removed now. With Amanda’s little stunt, Lucas King has thrust me into the nether region of all beings inferior to him, banning me to eternal damnation in his world. Not that I want to have sex with him. All I want is to go back to being unknown. I only want to do my time here, graduate, and get on with my life.
I just want to start living.
Lucas King’s cold and angry baby blue eyes held promises of torment and vengeance aimed straight for me. I remember how I thought, as I stared into them, they are the color of a clear sky on a beautiful day. In the seconds our eyes were locked, battle lines had been drawn. He told me he was coming after me, and he wasn’t going to play fair. He’d told me without so much as a word he had all the power. He didn’t have to say anything; his reputation spoke for itself. His sinister smile said he wanted blood and he wouldn’t stop until he had it. I’d insulted him, and I had to pay, and, God help me, I know in my heart I can’t afford the price.
I hated that warmth had seeped through me as his stare threatened to rip me to shreds.
He is gorgeous, I hated I wanted him to see me, to notice me, to acknowledge me. But not like that.
I throw my backpack in the corner when I walk into our Cape Cod style house on the west end of the island. In the off season, South Harbor Island is million dollar quaint, elite obnoxious, and high society pretentious. During tourist season, it’s ten times that and worse. The overabundance of shallowness and selfishness is draped around everyone’s neck like an Tiffany necklace fighting for attention. People only care about how expensive your car is, how big your house is, and how many servants you have. They live for petty gossip and someone else’s embarrassment. That means they’re one step closer to the top because they climb over the poor, decrepit souls beneath them to get there.
I hate it here.
I don’t fit in, and I don’t want to.
I drag myself into the kitchen, get a bottle of water out of the refrigerator, fall into a stool at the breakfast bar, and drop my face into my palms. “I am so screwed,” I moan.
“Hey Vee!” Jackson yells from the family room. “Wanna play Dead By Daylight?”
How appropriate, I roll my eyes and utter a silent groan. No, I don’t want to play Dead By Daylight, I now have enough troubles in my own life, I don’t need to further the morbidity in my pastimes. “No!” A pang of guilt instantly spears my chest when Jax doesn’t reply. Now I feel like a shit sister. I’m not the kind who doesn’t have time for her younger sibling. I always make time for him, I went out of my way to do things with him, even before we moved here, sacrificing hanging out with my friends to go places with him. I was the mother he didn’t have. I’m not going to start being a bitch now, although sometimes that’s all I want. To be selfish and self-absorbed like every other normal teenager. “Dude, video games will turn your brain to mush. Let’s go to the beach,” I yell back to him, even though all I want is to hide in my room until I absolutely have to face the world again.
“Only if you promise to take me to baseball practice on Saturday!” I can hear the click, click, click of the gaming remote as his hands work it.
Hold up a minute…
“What did you say?” I swivel in my seat to face him, as if he could see me through the wall separating us.
“Baseball practice. I tried out today and made the team,” he sounds distracted, giving me half his attention, the other half…I guess killing fake monsters, who knows.
I jump from the stool, feeling a little better about life with my little brother’s good news. Walking up behind him seated on the couch, I give him a light slap on the back of the head. “Dude!”
He jerks his head forward. “Hey! Cut it out, you’re going to make me die.”
I ignore his ridiculous statement. There are more important things. Like baseball. He found an interest, a team interest with people. The ugly part of me tries to make an appearance, gnawing at the back of my mind, the part that says now I’ll have more responsibilities taking Jax back and forth to games and practices, and even less time for myself. I ignore it because this is important and I’m happy he’s finally coming into his own. There’ll be time for me and what I want to do eventually. “You made the baseball team? Way cool! How come you didn’t tell me you were trying out?”
“Not a big deal, Vee…”
“It is so a big deal, Jax. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t know. I got talked into it today during lunch. Some of the guys were trying out and asked me to go too.”
What? “What do you mean guys?” He is totally surprising the hell out of me.
Some Freddie Kruger looking dude comes out of nowhere on the television screen and yanks up the kid who’s running across the scary ass field. Then impales him on a huge hook hanging from a tree. Sweet Jesus, is this what the younger generation is playing now? GROSS.
“Aw, man,” Jax slams his head against the back of the couch and drops his hands onto his lap. Craning his head to look back at me, “You made me die.”
I roll my eyes. “Shut that off and talk to me. Tell me what happened.” I’m so excited for my brother. He made friends I had
n’t even known about. He put himself out there, and he slayed it, I’m so proud of him. His life is in a good place while mine is falling apart. Work is going to suck because I want to stab Amanda in the eye with a spoon. I made a fool out of myself in front of the one local guy, a very popular local guy, Preston Hollowell, the only guy who’s given me any kind of attention. And I succeeded in insulting and starting a war with the one person in this whole town you do not want to piss off. Yeah, my life sucks right about now.
“Nothing to tell,” he leans forward, grabs the remote and turns off the gaming device and television. “We talked at lunch and we all decided to try out.” He stands and stretches, and I notice how much my baby brother has grown up since we moved here. He’s taller and not as lanky. In that instant I feel like a mother. A wave of sorrow and joy crash together with how proud I am of the young man standing before me, as sadness clutches my heart at the exit of the boy he’s leaving behind. Jax narrows his eyes at me. He caught me studying him. “You’re weirding me out, Vee. What’s wrong with you?”
I turn so he can’t see all the emotional baggage I came into the house with. This is a great day for Jax, I’m not about to rain on it with my pity party. “Nothing. Come on, let’s get out of here,” I wave it off before I blurt out my entire pathetic and crappy day.
As we make our way toward the front of the house, I stop at the coat closet, not that we need coats anymore now that we live at the beach, and grab the soccer ball.
“Sweet,” Jax drags out the word. “The girls’ soccer team is practicing tonight. Can we stop and pick up one of the guys on the way out?”
I jerk my head to look at him. “What the hell?”
He cocks his head to the side and gives me a grin. “Vee, they can’t see me playing with my…sister. Lame. Hey, I’ve got a great idea. Why don’t you get yourself a cool boyfriend, then we can, like, double date or something?”
The Making Of A King: The King Duet, Book 1 Page 2
