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“Saint! I want you to meet Lena.” Bailey tugs on my hand and I turn to face who she’s gesturing to at the table.
“Hi,” I say, falling to the chair beside her. “Nice to meet you.”
Lena studies me closely, her eyes roaming up and down my body. I stop breathing. She has tattoos covering her skin, including a full neck tattoo that curves around her jawline, a little like Nate’s. She has a nose piercing and a lip piercing, and she’s dressed a little differently from how the rest of the girls are. With loose dark jeans, Nike sneakers, a white tee and a dark hoodie. I almost ask her if that’s what she’s dressed as, but then my mouth closes. I don’t care.
“Damn. So, who is this? A new Swan?” Lena licks her lips and it’s the first look I get at her tongue piercing.
Before I can say anything, I hear the loud rumble of cars pull up the driveway. “Boys are home…” Tillie says, rubbing her belly. She’s dressed as a pregnant woman, she said, since she isn’t in an actual outfit. Car doors slam closed.
My heart pounds in my chest.
Footsteps clap against the steps that lead up to the patio, and my breathing shallows.
I hear the distinct voices before they round the corner. Quickly, I divert my eyes away from them and bring my wine glass to my lips. My heart is beating painfully fast, causing sweat to bead on the nape of my neck. We haven’t seen each other at all since last night and now I feel flustered and uncomfortable. I keep my eyes locked on the tent to the side of us, so I don’t have to lose my soul when our gazes lock.
“Jesus Christ, Bran!” Tillie gasps, bursting up from her chair urgently. Instantly I know something is wrong, so I cave and turn to face him.
His skin is paler than normal, his eyes dark around the edges. His hand comes to the back of Lena’s neck before she looks up at him and they fist punch each other.
“Bran, you didn’t tell me you had a new girl in the group.”
Brantley ignores me, keeping his eyes on Lena and laughs. He laughed. He didn’t get mad, or correct her. He laughed. Something unfamiliar sets up shop inside of me and I don’t like it. I feel the bubbling poison of rejection hot against my skin. Maybe I gave him what he wanted and he’ll go back to ignoring me again. Isn’t that what I wanted anyway? It was. So why does it hurt so bad? We always think we know what we want until we’re met with what we don’t get.
“Whoopty” by CJ is playing loudly from the tent when he finally locks eyes with me. Air is snatched from my lungs and replaced with fire, as it spreads through my veins with every breath. Suddenly I can’t hear anything, and everyone around me disappears into the back of my mind. I chew on my bottom lip and bring my glass to my lips. That’s when I see it.
The wet patch over his front shoulder, the opposite side of his tattoo.
My mouth closes but my head involuntarily tilts. The distinct smell of liquid metal wafts up my nose. Before I can stop myself, I’m standing from my chair.
His eyes instantly drop down my body, the smile gone. Poof. Vanished and replaced with a snarl. I ignore him until I’m toe to toe with him. With these heels on, I’m still nowhere near as tall as him. Now I’m up to his chest, instead of his abs. I press my palm over the wet patch, but he snatches my wrist and pulls me in closer.
“What the fuck are you wearing, Dea?”
Oh, that’s what the snarl was for.
“Why are you bleeding?” I ask, finally bringing my eyes up to his. Everyone who is around us silences. “Take your shirt off.” I grip at the bottom of the hem, but he doesn’t budge.
“Tillie, I will kill you.”
I tear off his shirt and toss it onto the ground. My hand flies to my mouth, and it just so happens to be the one that was covering his chest, so the slap of blood on the tip of my tongue hits hard. “Brantley!” I’m about to tell Tillie to help me find a first aid kit when someone stops me in my place.
Hector is standing behind me, his hands in his pockets. There’s a woman beside him dressed in a tight red dress with soft brown hair.
My mouth closes. It’s too much.
I turn back to face Brantley. “Get inside so I can clean it up.”
Lena stands from her chair. “I’ll go grab my bag.” She brushes past Brantley and punches him in the abs. “Fucker. Could have told me that she was with you.”
