Claimed by the Fallen: A Fallen Angel Reverse Harem Novel (The Fallen Harem Book 1)

by Samantha Britt

  My parents share a look. “Are you sure, honey?” Mom asks. She looks at my dad, again. “Do you want to go home?”

  “No,” I tell her. I pick up my tea and take a sip. “I promise, I’m fine. I think you were right. It was probably something I ate.” I don’t reveal I’ve only eaten wheat cereal and a turkey sandwich today.

  The waitress appears and distracts everyone. I use the reprieve to continue and breathe through the lingering pain. Gradually, the stinging lessens.

  Joey and Dad order their drinks. Then, we all place our dinner order.

  “So, Joey,” Dad begins after we’ve all passed our menus to the waitress, “Veronica tells us you are going to school out of state.” I’m thankful the conversation has moved away from the odd pain in my chest.

  Joey swallows a sip of soda. “Yes, Sir. I’ll be at Syracuse.”

  “New York?” Dad acts like I hadn’t already told him that. “That’s quite the distance.”

  Joey nods.

  “Do you have family up there?”

  “I have an aunt and uncle in New York City. They’ll be there if I need anything.”

  “Yes, but I’m sure your parents and friends will miss you.”

  I glare at my dad. What is he trying to do? Does he want Joey to feel bad?

  Annie chimes in, “Don’t worry, Joey. Ronnie and I have already planned to take a road trip up there when you move in to the dorms. We’ll have two extra weeks before our classes start at Texas State.”

  The weight of my parents’ stares lands on me.

  “Is that so?” Mom asks. She sounds calm, but I know the signs she’s about to give me an earful. Her cheek always twitches when she’s upset.

  I shrug. “Well… yeah. We’ve talked about it. We want to see where Joey will be living, and you know how much I hate flying.” I give my mom a pointed look, silently asking she not lecture me in front of my friends.

  “Don’t worry Mrs. Messenger,” Annie speaks up. “My parents will probably be coming with us. At least, my mom will. You know how overprotective she can be.” My friend bats her eyes at my mom, using her charm to appease my parents. Annie’s always been good at getting me out of hot water.

  Mom nods, and her cheek stops twitching. “Well, that’s good to hear.”

  “It sure is,” my dad states. He lifts his beer in the air. “Now, let’s get back to celebrating what we’re all here for. Ronnie, sweetheart, I love you. I know you might be eighteen, but you’ll always be my little girl. Happy Birthday.”

  My mom and friends repeat the celebratory words.

  I’m both touched and embarrassed by my dad’s short, emotional speech. “Thanks, Dad.” I pick up my tea and tap my glass against his. Mom lifts her water and joins in.

  “To Ronnie,” Annie nearly shouts, “the best friend anyone could have.”

  “Here, here.” Joey says. He and Annie bang their glasses against mine, causing some of the liquid to slosh over the sides. I laugh, shaking my head, and drying off my hand with the linen napkin on the table.

  “Thanks, you guys.” I look around the table with a smile, happy to be surrounded by my four favorite people. “I’m glad you’re all here.”

  “We wouldn’t miss it.” Joey bumps my shoulder with his. I grin back at him.

  A server arrives balancing a large tray full of food. He unfolds a metal stand and lowers the tray. Our food is delivered. We begin to eat while speaking with one another in-between bites.

  As I sit there, listening to my parents and friends joke about silly antics I pulled during my childhood, I can’t help but take a moment to realize how lucky I am. Not everyone is blessed with such a support system. Especially, not adopted kids.

  Other than knowing my birth parents gave me up for adoption the day after I was born, they are a mystery. Most of the time, it is easy to forget I was adopted. Mom and Dad took me in when I was only two weeks old, and I’ve never experienced life without people who love me. At least, not that I can remember.

  But at times like this, when I am surrounded by such love and affection, I know my situation is not something I should take for granted.

  I’m one of the lucky ones, and I remind myself to never forget it.

  As I eat, I realize the pain in my chest has dulled to a steady throb. It’s feels like a beacon, calling out to some lost soul on the open ocean. I ignore the unusual thought and go back to enjoying my birthday dinner with my friends and family, unaware of how accurate my description actually is.

  Four

  The concert venue is crowded and hot. The sun set over an hour ago, but the body heat around me refuses to let the temperature drop to a bearable level. I rub my fingers against the condensation on my glass and dab the moisture on the back of my neck. I’d given up having my hair half-down within the first fifteen minutes of being here. Thank god I always wear an extra hairband on my wrist. My thick, black hair would feel suffocating in this environment.

  I stand to the left of the bar centered in the middle of the space, waiting for Annie to stop flirting with the guy sitting on a barstool. I lean away from a stumbling couple and barely avoid being spilled on.

  I sigh and sip my drink. Sometimes, it isn’t fun having such a pretty best friend. We rarely go anywhere where Annie doesn’t attract at least one guy’s attention. I wish Joey was here, but he is off somewhere talking to one of his soccer teammates. He ran into the guy almost as soon as we entered. After quickly saying he’d be back in a minute, Joey disappeared into the crowd.

  I’m on my own for the time being.

  I scan my surroundings to pass the time. A DJ is playing popular radio songs on the stage while a crew walks behind him, plugging in amplifiers and arranging instruments. It’s a quarter to nine and almost time for the band to come on. I hope the crowd around me will move toward the stage once Young and Heart begins to play. I’ll be more than happy to stand in the back and enjoy the music without their sweaty bodies bumping against me.

  Without warning, a fresh pain twists within my chest.

  I hiss and place my hand against my sternum, confused as to what is causing the uncomfortable feeling. It feels like the pain that happened at dinner, only less pronounced. I consider the pain level might be the same and I am just getting used to it.

  I’m pondering the odds of Annie allowing me to bail on the concert when I look up. On their own accord, my eyes veer to the staircase on the right side of the stage, leading to the second-floor balcony.

  There, leaning against the rusty railing, is a blond guy.

  Not your typical blond, I tell myself. His hair is platinum blond. I think it might be fake, but something tells me the rare color is natural. My lips part. I’m stunned by the sight of him.

  The stranger wears dark blue jeans and a tight, white V-neck. He smokes a cigarette. Though I find the habit disgusting, I can’t deny it makes him look good. It’s obvious the guy is aiming for a bad-boy look. And he’s killing it.

  The stinging pain fades to the background as I keep staring, unable, or unwilling, to look away. He’s watching the DJ on the stage with a bored expression. I feel like he reminds me of someone, but I can’t place who. Before I can think about it anymore, Annie pops up beside me.

  “Sorry about that, Ronnie,” she rushes to say.

  Begrudgingly, I tear my eyes from the enthralling stranger and look at my friend. “Are you really sorry?” I ask with raised eyebrows.

  She blushes. “Hey, can you blame me? He’s super cute.” She glances over her shoulder. I follow her gaze and see the guy at the bar looking back at us.

  Well, not really “us”. He’s only got eyes for Annie.

  “Joey’s not back yet?” Annie spins around. She stands on her tip-toes to try and find our friend in the mass of people. I grab onto her elbow to make sure she doesn’t fall, but she barely wobbles.

  I’m about to tell her she looks like a meerkat surveying the Savannah when she cries out, “There he is. I see him!” She drops on her heels and gr
abs my hand.

  Annie leads us through the crowd, and I cringe whenever I feel unexpected moisture touch my skin. I’m going to need to take five showers before I will feel clean again. Looking above the crowd, I see Joey is facing us. He is smiling and talking with two guys. One, I recognize as his teammate. The other has his back to me and is partially hidden by the people around him.

  Annie hollers, “Hey, Joey. You planning to ditch us for the whole concert, or what?”

  Hearing his name, Joey looks up. His smile widens, and he waves us over. I stumble as Annie pulls me.

  “No, sorry,” Joey responds once we draw closer. “I was hoping you’d come looking for me. I didn’t want to move and lose this spot for the concert.”

  His two friends turn to see who Joey is talking to, and I nearly fall on my face when I recognize Preston McKenna. What is Joey doing talking to him? They aren’t friends.

  Preston smiles, and my knees weaken. “Hey, Veronica. Hi, Annie.”

  Annie wedges us between Joey and Preston, placing me next to the latter. “Hey, Preston. What’s up, Scott,” she addresses Joey’s teammate.

  Succumbing to my shyness, I can only lift my hand and give the guys a small wave.

  Neither seems put off by my silent greeting. Scott returns Annie’s greeting, and Preston swivels to look down at me.

  “Joey told me it’s your birthday today,” he gives a best boy next door smile. “Happy birthday!”

  I’m going to kill Joey.

  I try my best to hide my embarrassment and smile back. “Thanks. That’s really nice of you.”

  “No problem,” Preston replies. He doesn’t release me from his stare. Instead, I watch as his eyes begin to move down my body, taking note of my outfit.

  A rush of modesty courses through me, but I don’t fidget. I tell myself Preston is just surprised to see me so dressed up. He’s used to seeing me in rolled-up skinny jeans and loose t-shirts. The glint in his eye has nothing to do with him being attracted to me.

  Nope. Definitely not.

  The lights around the stage begin to fade. The crowd roars, excited by the sign the concert is about to start.

  Preston clears his throat and shakes his head, making his brown hair sway. “I better go find Tina,” he shouts above the noise, then he reaches out a hand towards Joey and Scott. “See you guys around.”

  The guys take turns shaking his hand. Annie waggles her fingers at him before giving me a sly look. I don’t need to wonder if she saw Preston’s perusal. I look away from my friend, focusing all of my attention on the stage.

  The muscles in my chest ripple. At first, I cringe, expecting pain to follow the unusual sensation. I’m surprised when that doesn’t happen. Instead, the tension is almost gentle—sort of like the feeling right before your body erupts into goosebumps.

  As if my eyes are magnets and his body is a piece of metal, I’m pulled toward the staircase beside the stage. The blond guy is still there. Only, this time, he is blatantly staring at me.

  All of my nerve endings fire. Warmth floods my limbs as I return the man’s stare.

  He adjusts his stance, leaning forward, as if he’s trying to get a better look at me. I raise an eyebrow, and I’m surprised when he mimics the action. Then, his lips curl into a grin. He looks pleased about something, but I refuse to think it’s me.

  A man bumps into my back. I squeal as ice-cold beer slides down my shirt. The spell is broken.

  Annie turns after hearing the sound. She shouts, “Hey!” to the guy who spilled on me, but he’s already pushing his way through the crowd, trying to get closer to the stage.

  “What an ass-hat,” Annie yells towards the retreating figure. That’s how I know she’s truly mad on my behalf. Annie rarely cusses.

  Joey grimaces when he realizes what’s happened. “Do you want my overshirt, Ronnie?” he asks, already pulling off the thin, checkered button-up.

  “No, that’s okay. It will dry.” I hold up a hand. I reach around my back and tug the wet fabric from my skin. “But I think I’m going to run to the bathroom to try and speed up the process.”

  “Want me to go with you?”

  “No,” I tell Annie, glancing at the people around us. Some of them saw my unfortunate accident, but they’d since returned their focus to the impending concert. “I’ll be fine. Stay here and help Joey keep our spot. I’ll be right back.” I retreat towards the back of the venue before she has the chance to object.

  Annoyed and embarrassed, I tuck my chin and keep my eyes on the ground as I weave against the traffic. I bend my arms and pull them tightly against my body, doing my best to avoid colliding with anyone else or their alcoholic drinks.

  I sigh when I reach the very back of the venue. There are less people here. I can actually walk without needing to sidestep anyone.

  I identify the “Restrooms” sign hanging over two black doors directly across from me. I’m about to walk that way when I hear someone say, “Hello”.

  I turn towards the sound, and I stumble back a couple of steps when I identify the man from the staircase. I blink and shake my head, thinking I’m imaging the sight before me.

  I’m not.

  The stranger from the staircase is watching me. His hair flops to the side as he tilts his head. The blond color is much brighter up close. How in the world did he get here so fast?

  I stare at the man, realizing distance did his looks a disservice. I’d only seen people look so attractive in movies. And even then, I feel like it was all a trick of makeup and lighting. The same could not be said about the man in front of me. Even in the dark lighting, I know he is attractive.

  And based on the self-satisfied smirk on his lips, he knows it too.

  “Hello,” he repeats.

  Stop staring, you idiot.

  “H-hello,” I try to choke out. I clear my throat and try again, “Hello.” My voice isn’t entirely steady, but it’s better than my first attempt.

  His smirk grows. “I’m Adrian,” he says without preamble.

  Adrian. My mind repeats the name.

  Again, I have the feeling that I know this guy. But that’s impossible. I would remember meeting someone who looks like that.

  He continues to stare at me, and I realize he’s waiting for me to respond. “I’m Veronica.” I throw my hand out. He eyes the offer, still smirking.

  I’m about to retract my arm when he grips my palm, tight. Adrian shakes my hand one time before releasing me. My skin tingles as my arm falls back to my side.

  “You have unique eyes,” he states, staring at my irises.

  I’m taken aback by the abrupt comment and his intense stare. The guy is seriously hot, but I’m beginning to wonder if he has any social skills.

  “Uh… yeah. They’re definitely different.” I consider how he is able to see my eye color in the dark venue. My pupils should be dilated, hiding the majority of the colored irises.

  I try, but fail, to determine the color of his eyes. Not only is the venue dark, but he also stands at least six inches taller than me. And I’m not brave enough to close the distance between us. In fact, I should walk away. He’s a stranger, and I don’t owe him a conversation. But my feet seem glued to the sticky floor.

  Adrian’s watching me like I’m a curiosity. I squirm, imagining that this is what it feels like to be a zoo animal. I turn my neck towards the beer sign against the wall, needing to break eye contact to maintain what little composure I have left.

  “Where are you from?” he asks.

  Not wanting to be rude, I reluctantly let my gaze travel back to him. I tilt my head to the side, curious as to what he is trying to achieve by talking to me. “I’m from Valley Lake.”

  “Really?” He tucks his hands into his pockets and mimics my head-tilt. “That’s a small town.”

  “Yep… it is.” I feel awkward standing with my hands by my side. I cross them over my chest.

  “Do you come to the city often?”

  “Not really. This is my first ti
me to this venue.” I realize I’m offering too much information, but I can’t stop.

  “What brings you out?”

  “It’s my birthday,” I blurt without thinking. I manage to not cringe away from my thoughtless admission. This guy doesn’t know me. He couldn’t care less about my birthday.

  Adrian’s eyes illuminate. He looks like he just solved an unknown mystery. He observes me with renewed interest, scanning me from head to toe. I try to ignore the rush of heat flowing through my body.

  “Let me guess,” his eyes finally land on mine. “You’re eighteen.”

  I’m surprised at first. Then, I consider the fact I probably look young compared to other concert patrons.

  “Good guess.” I’m proud of my cool, levelheaded response.

  His mouth widens, and I’m stunned silent by his bright smile. How can he possibly look even more handsome?

  “It wasn’t too hard,” he reveals, tipping his head down. “I saw the black X on your hand. I had a thirty-three percent shot of getting it right.”

  I look at the mark the bouncer had made with his thick, black sharpie. Only people under the age of twenty-one received the mark, and since the venue was only eighteen and up, I understood where Adrian got his odds from.

  “Still, kudos.” Again, I’m proud that I am able to speak with Adrian. I would’ve expected myself to stutter and make a fool of myself. “How old are you?”

  Adrian laughs. Instantly, I regret the question. He probably thinks it’s hilarious that I should even ask. As if I’d ever have a chance with someone like him. I’m barely an adult.

  I can feel my cheeks heat, and I pray he isn’t able to detect my blush like he’d detected my eye color. I stare over his shoulder to avoid his humiliating amusement.

  Still chuckling, Adrian answers, “I’m older than I look.” Again, he’s probably finding it beyond funny that I should even think to be on the same level as him. But that’s not even what I meant. I’m just being friendly.

  Besides, he’s the one who talked to me first.

  With a renewed sense of indignation, I meet his gaze. I prepare myself to say goodbye and escape to the restroom when I’m interrupted by a familiar voice.