When Abby asks if we are going somewhere, it’s not optional. While I’m in charge of planning our social calendars for the entire sorority, I still have to answer to Abby. She’s a dictator stuck inside the body of a beauty queen. Not that I mind going to the annual Halloween party. Delta Sigma Phi throws legendary parties everyone on campus wants to attend.
I’ve attended dozens of parties in Manhattan, most of which were planned by my mother, but nothing compares to some of the weekends I have spent with my sisters on campus.
“I wouldn’t miss it,” I say.
“Me, too,” Shannon adds.
“We’re doing Thirsty Thursday this week,” Jordan says. “How about a cosmo party this time?”
I hate cosmopolitans. The drinks burn my stomach and give me massive heartburn. My mother loves them. I practically grew up with the stench of them burned into my nostrils.
“Sounds like fun,” I lie. “Count me in.”
“I never turn down a cosmo,” Shannon says. “I could use one right now.” She laughs. “I think we all can.”
I know Shannon well enough to see through the façade she puts on for Abby and most of the girls in our sorority. She works almost every day of the week. Another party, especially one mid-week, will only throw off her schedule even more. I bet she’s wondering how she can rearrange her life to make it on Thursday.
Abby creates an awkward tension every year during the pledging process. She’s super stuck-up, a product of her spoiled upbringing, and never seems to come down to earth where the normal people live. There’s an air around her that makes it impossible to get to know her. It’s also what keeps people away. She has a permanent scowl most of the time and rarely looks happy.
Jordan, her sidekick, is cool and relaxed when she’s not around Abby. But they’re best friends and have been since their freshman year.
“I love your top,” Jordan says to me, pointing at my shirt. “Where did you get it?”
I glance down at the black tunic with gold stitching up the arms. “Saks, I think. My mom bought it for me at the beginning of the semester.”
“I love Saks,” Abby beams with approval.
Shannon can’t afford socks from Saks Fifth Avenue, so she keeps her mouth shut. Whenever money comes up in conversation, Shannon gets eerily silent. I don’t blame her. Abby judges everyone by how they look and what they can afford. She makes it known that she tolerates Shannon’s presence among our group and never lets her forget the fact she can’t afford to live in the chapter house with us. Abby is the worst kind of rich bitch. She’s a monster.
Shannon nudges me on the arm, knocking the fork from my hand. “Look who’s coming over here.”
I peel my eyes from hers and catch Killian strutting over to our table with Jamie O’Connor at his side. All of the girls glance in their direction, practically drooling over them.
Jamie slides a chair next to Shannon and kisses her on the cheek. He’s adorable—shaggy brown hair, muscles everywhere, and the cutest smirk. Both Jamie and Killian are not the typical stupid jocks. They’re both genius smart, good enough to play pro hockey, and ridiculously hot.
Jamie straddles the chair with his long legs pushing it closer to the table. But Killian just stands at the edge, burning a hole through me with his gaze. His emerald irises are intense, his jaw rigid, and everything about his demeanor sets my body on fire. He has me on edge as he does every time he’s near.
Killian holds up his hand, beckoning me with his index finger. At first, I wonder if he’s motioning to someone else, but I know his gesture is meant for me. He hasn’t peeled his eyes from mine since the second he approached our table.
Who does he think he is?
“Now,” he growls. “I don’t have all day.”
I almost laugh at his rudeness. He’s such a dick.
So, why am I so unbelievably attracted to him and how does he get me to ignore every sensible thing running through my head?
Without a fight, I walk over to him. He devours me with one look. The sexual tension between us burns like a lit match, like an uncontainable spark neither of us can control.
“I’ll be right back,” I say to Shannon, who’s staring at me like I’m insane, and then I follow Killian out of the cafeteria and outside of the SAC.
He waits until we’re down the street a little before he speaks. “What do you want?”
I laugh at the absurdity of his question. “Are you kidding me? I want my car back. What else would I want from you?”
We enter an alleyway behind the business school, now free from onlookers. He steers me toward the brick wall of the building, leading me with his hand on my shoulder. “Can’t help you, princess.”
“Then why would you ask a dumb question? Until Saturday night, I wanted nothing from you.”
What a lie. I’ve had a crush on Killian since freshman orientation when he loaned me his pen. He probably doesn’t even remember me, but I never forgot him. And now, I like having this little bit of power over him.
He smirks, and it’s incredibly sexy the way the corner of his mouth turns up, a dimple in his right cheek creasing his tanned skin.
“I’m not going to tell anyone,” I add.
His smirk widens. “Bullshit. You want something. Otherwise, you’d have talked by now.”
“Well, I told my dad the car was stolen, and his lawyer forced me go down to the police station with him to make a report.”
His jaw clenches.
“Don’t worry, I didn’t tell them anything. My dad didn’t even care about the car. He has tons of them.”
“Must be nice.” He shoves his hands into his jeans pockets and shakes his head. “You had me mistaken for someone else.” He says this as if he can hypnotize me into believing a lie.
“I know what I saw,” I counter.
“You don’t know shit. I was at The Sixth Floor on Saturday night with my team. Anyone can tell you that.” He leans in so close I can feel his breath on my lips, feel the anger and fear radiating from him. “No one will ever believe you.”
“Are you willing to take that chance?”
I press my hand to his chest to push him back enough to create some much-needed distance. Being this close to Killian is doing things to my body I don’t want to happen.
“Everyone has a price,” he growls. “What’s yours?”
“You.” I can barely get the words out without feeling like a fool. “I want you.”
He laughs. “Why?”
“I don’t mean sexually,” I correct.
His eyes narrow in confusion. “You make no sense.”
“I want to know why you stole my car.”
He removes his hands from his pockets and steps back. “No, not gonna happen. I keep my life private for a reason. All you rich girls are the same. You think you can hold this over my head and force me to do whatever you want. Well, I hate to break it to you, but you will never get me, princess.”
Killian turns away from me, and I grab hold of his thick, muscular arm. Just feeling his skin sends chill down my spine causing the tiny hairs on my arms to stand at attention.
“I want to come with you next time. Take me with you.”
“Take you where?”
“When you steal someone else’s car.”
He laughs so hard it shakes through me. “No way. Are you fucking crazy? My life isn’t a game.”
“Please,” I plead, my eyes searching his.
“Is your life that boring you need to hang out with the guy from the wrong side of the tracks just to get your rocks off?”
“Yes,” I whisper.
From my mother to my sorority sisters, my life is planned down to the minute. Growing up with money and entitlement doesn’t equal experience and fun. I want to live for once, and I can tell that Killian can give me the rush I desire.
“One time.” He runs a hand through his dark hair, pushing it out of his eyes. “You can come with me to a race. That’s all you get, and then we’re done.”<
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“When?” My body is practically on fire from excitement.
“Saturday. Have you heard of Tony Luke’s?”
“The cheesesteak place?”
He nods.
“Yeah, what about it?”
“Meet me there on Saturday around nine, and keep your mouth shut. This stays between us.”
I hold out my hand as if this is a businesses deal. He stares at it for a second before he shakes my hand, creating a wave of heat that shoots down my arm.
“Until then, keep your distance,” he says, releasing my hand. “If your sorority sisters ask why I needed to talk to you, tell them we’re working on a project together.”
As of this morning, Killian is in my macroeconomics class. He strolled into class late, apparently because he switched classes before the drop period, and now he sits a few rows behind me with Jamie in the back of the auditorium. The project he’s making up doesn’t exist, and I doubt anyone will believe me. But it’s worth a shot because a few white lies get me closer to Killian.
Chapter Seven
Killian
Now that I’m on the final stretch before graduation, I don’t have any room for error. Jade is a complication I wasn’t expecting. A headache I don’t need.
Even though graduating with honors is not something I need to play in the NHL, I still want a backup plan in case it doesn’t work out. I’m the only person in my family to attend college, let alone graduate. None of my crewmembers were even close to getting high enough grades to come along with me for the ride. Not like any of them were interested. School wasn’t for Rome and the guys. They had their lives planned out before we graduated from high school.
Instead of partying with my teammates at the Delta Sigma Phi house, I have to go out and make some cash, so the bank won’t foreclose on my mother’s house. She’s clinically depressed to the point she can’t get off the couch most days. After my father died when I was twelve, we lived off welfare. They still do. Our food stamps were barely enough to survive. And now that I’m older, she only gets money from Social Security for my younger brother, Finn.
When I received my acceptance letter to Strick U, I vowed to turn my life around. I promised myself I would use my degree to take care of my family. But four years is a long time. I have mouths to feed, the mortgage is due, and tuition to pay. That’s why I was so open to working with Chase and the rest of the guys. I never had to steal a single car until last weekend. Everything was perfect until that night.
After Jamie hooked me on hockey, I dreamed of playing for the Philadelphia Flyers, a dream that will hopefully come true by the end of the school year. I need it to work out. Because I’m afraid the alternative is a life of crime. Hockey has been my life for so long that I’ve never thought of what I might want to be other than a professional hockey player. With my grades and skills, I could easily work for a tech company. Jameson has even offered me a position at his company. But I want the NHL contract and the fame that comes with it.
Last night, I stopped by the house to check on Finn. He begged me to stay and play Mage Wars with him, and before I knew it, an hour had turned into seven. So, I crashed in my old bedroom for the night.
On my way down the stairs, I pass my mom on the couch. She’s been dead to the world all day, medicated to the point where she has no clue I’m here. Unfortunately, this is the norm. My only hope is that one day I will make enough money to send her to a decent treatment program for her depression. With help, she could turn her life around. For Finn’s sake, I hope she can.
Finn is fourteen now and in his freshman year of high school. After dinner, he left to stay the night at his friend’s house. Thank God. I hate it when he has to see our mother like this. He’s the parent when he’s home with her just as I was when I was his age.
Some days, my mom is functional enough to microwave us dinner or clean the house. Other days, like this one, she’s a complete zombie, doped up on her meds.
Once I’m outside, I fumble with the key ring in my pocket and click the key fob. The lights of my Mustang Shelby GT350 illuminate in the darkness, the deep impact blue paint concealing the car.
I bought Adrian two years ago, right after a big score. One of the buyers we used to work with gave everyone in my crew a deal, and when I saw Adrian in the back of a truck, I knew I had to have her. She spoke to me.
I run my hands along the steering wheel as Adrian roars to life, purring as she warms up. I’ve never loved a woman, not unless you count Adrian. She’s the love of my life.
The streets of South Philly are crowded with the Flyers playing at home tonight and the Wells Fargo Center letting out. I hope one day to get the chance to play hockey there. A few minutes later, I park out front of Tony Luke’s, a popular cheesesteak shop, where I meet my crew before races. A long, open window spans most of the space where people wait in line to have their orders taken.
Sifting through the crowd, I shuffle to the tables where I find my crew.
This shit is dangerous.
Why did I tell Jade to meet me here? Why am I even allowing her to ride in the front seat next to me?
She had no idea what she was asking of me. I wanted to warn her, but she seemed to have had her mind made up. A girl like Jade is too pure for this lifestyle. A spoiled brat would never understand why I do this. She sees my real life as a fantasy when the reality is harsh and brutal.
Cops are familiar with the usual spots on weekends, forcing us to stagger the dates, times, and locations. We race in different parts of Philly and the surrounding suburbs each week. Sometimes we drive to New Jersey or New York if the money is right.
“Kade’s here.” Chase slides off the bench. “You guys ready?” He glances down at Roman and Nate and waits for a nod of approval from Roman.
Once we’re at the curb near my car, Chase reaches into his jacket and then stuffs a thick envelope of cash into the pocket of my navy Strickland Senators hoodie.
“We got an advance on the next job.”
I pat the front of my hoodie feeling the thick bulge against my stomach and nod.
“We have some serious action a few weeks from now,” Roman says, coming up on my left side.
“How much are we talking?”
“A hundred k split between us,” Roman says. “The buyer was so happy he wants us to work for him on a permanent basis.”
This isn’t my end game. But a small part of me feels guilty for wanting to leave my friends, my crew, to pursue a different life. I might be like them, but I want so much more than a life of crime.
I’ll never get sick of the adrenaline rush from winning a race. That feeling will never get old. There’s no high better. Not even sex.
I search for Jade in the sea of people around us. Where the fuck is she? She wanted to come, and yet she’s not even on time, and I wait for no one.
“I’m in,” I tell them. “Set it up.”
“We’ll see you over at the spot,” Chase says.
Roman and Nate follow behind him to their cars as I slip into the driver’s seat mentally preparing myself for another wild night. I pray we don’t get caught because, lately, my luck seems to be running out.
Chapter Eight
Jade
When I reach Tony Luke’s, Killian is revving the engine of his Mustang, drawing attention. Everyone on the street is looking in his direction. I wave my hands above my head and yell his name. He doesn’t even look my way as he pulls out of the parking space, his wheels screeching as he drives away.
At least two-dozen people are outside, now headed in his direction. Should I follow? I have no idea where I am. Three years of school in Philly hasn’t made me any kind of expert on the city. If not for the Uber driver, I doubt I would have found this place.
I follow the group to a street corner where people are huddled together. Some pass cigarettes and joints among themselves while others are pounding cans of beer and screaming like maniacs. I’m in shock the police haven’t broken this up yet and sort of
nervous about how much trouble we will be in if we get caught.
I listen to the voices in the crowd talking about the different crews. Since I have zero experience with street racing, I had no idea that people formed crews to race with for money. The spectators are here to take side bets. According to the whispers, Killian and his crew are the best in the city.
My skin buzzes with electricity, a small part of me excited by the thrill of Killian doing something illegal. I figured he was into some serious shit when he stole my car, but now I’m even more curious about him. One night might not be enough to extract all of his secrets. I told Killian I want to know him, and I meant every word.
Once the cars line up, the drivers rev their engines at the imaginary starting line, smoke burning off their tires as they spin. Watching as the cars take off, tires screeching and smoke filling the air in their wake, a rush of adrenaline shoots through me. I can see why Killian finds this so exciting. The thrill of not knowing who will win and if the cops might drive by unannounced brings a smile to my face. Giddy, nervous anticipation rocks me to the core, the energy surrounding me somewhat contagious.
After the blue Mustang crosses over the finish line with several cars on its tail, the race ends with a girl holding up a flag to wave each car through. A man stands off to the side with a stopwatch in hand calling out the numbers to the twenty-something boy next to him, who jots them down on a clipboard. Considering they could get into a ton of trouble for this, they seem at ease and way too relaxed until the sound of police sirens sound off from a distance.
Panicked, I look to someone, anyone, for help. I have no idea what to do.
Someone yells, “Run!”
And so I do. I take off down the street, my sneakers slapping the pavement as I dart through the crowd. By the time the group rounds a corner, I don’t even bother to pay attention to the street signs, getting completely lost in the chaos.
Unable to see in front of me, I allow the sea of screaming people to carry me further away from the sound of sirens. Eventually breaking free from them, I run as fast as my feet will allow, out of breath and unsure of the direction I’m going.
Kissing Killian: Face-Off Legacy #5 Page 4
