THE BASS POUNDS HEAVILY,coursing through the floorboards and into the beige wall I’m leaning against. The cup in my hand is mostly drained, my breath reeking of cheap vodka and Sprite.
Cassie is before me, dancing in the small living room, smushed between Kimberly and some other woman I’m unfamiliar with as they laugh and fumble over one another. Occasionally, she’ll look in my direction and smile brightly, urging me to go to her.
But I’m waiting—Susie and Landon should be here any moment. They took a late flight, and I want to greet them out front.
Some shitty pop song is blasting so loudly that I can’t hear the couple next to me who are shouting in each other’s ears. The party is small, maybe twenty-five people, but that’s all the youth that Port Orford has to offer. It was like this a few days after Christmas, too, when I got absolutely hammered and had Cassie drive me home.
I could have fucked her that night, but I couldn’t go through with it. I think I had whiskey dick, and for some reason, her flirting just wasn’t doing it for me.
I watch her dance, keeping my phone in my left hand so I can feel it vibrate when Susie and Landon pull up. But I’m not fully registering the beautiful girl in front of me, not truly. Because my mind is stuck somewhere else.
I’m back in the west tower, watching that man pound into Atlas harshly. I’m watching as he backs into the darkness and disappears, and then as I bathe Atlas, continuing to lay him down to sleep.
The idea that I made up half of what I saw—the demonic face, the incredible shriek, its disappearance into thin air—is hard to wrap my head around.
But Atlas wasn’t necessarily wrong; monstersdon’texist.
It was the middle of the night, and I didn’t sleep. Or maybe I did; maybe I briefly passed out after putting a post-orgasm Atlas to bed, and there’s a very angry boyfriend out there somewhere who left Chastain Castle that night after being interrupted by some attendee.
I’m sure the boyfriend wouldn’t have fought me to stay, not when I’m positive that Atlas would get into trouble for having company after dark. He probably booked it upon my getting found out, and I passed out later that night and made up my own story.
I do hate the idea of Atlas fucking another guy. I would rather it be a human man, forhissake, but I hate the potential of his having a lover. So, I wouldn’t put it past my brain to twist thestory to calm my sleep-deprived brain and answer the questions I so desperately want answered in the process.
Such as: What is wrong with Atlas Chastain?
Even as I knowIcan’t have him physically, I don’t want anyone else to have him either. And I don’t care how fucked up that is.
Which, of course, just makes me feel stupid for what I said in my bedroom earlier today. Claiming I could make him come harder than his boyfriend? What would I have done if he had asked me to prove it? I can’t very well risk my job for a one-night stand.
If I didn’t work for Abraham Chastain, I would seduce Atlas with everything in me. I would take him from that long-haired brute and fuck him just how he likes it—but better.
But rules are rules, and I can’t break my father’s heart like that. I can’t risk our income, especially not for casual sex.
My phone buzzes: a text. It’s Susie saying they’ve arrived in their rental, so I signal to Cassie that I’ll be back and slip out of the front door.
I walk halfway down the concrete path and watch as my two friends exit their temporary, small grey Honda.
I spot Susie first, her long ginger hair pulled up in a claw clip on the top of her head. She’s in a pair of blue jeans and an oversized retro windbreaker that has a million different patterns and colors scattered around. Her FIFA sneakers barely touch the ground with how quickly she’s running, throwing herself into my arms.
“Julie!” she screeches, wrapping her legs around my waist.
I laugh, holding her up with my arms. “Hey, Susie. I missed you, too.”
“Ugh, I thought I’d never see you again,” she complains into my neck, her valley girl accent thick with every word she speaks.
“You’re being dramatic as shit,” I tell her, and she slides down to land on the concrete.
“At leastpretendyou’ve been dying to see me!”
“Can I get some of this reuniting love, too?” Landon asks, appearing a few feet behind Susie.
A large smile breaks out over my features at the sight of him.
His brown hair is gelled back just slightly so it’s not falling onto his forehead or covering his green eyes. A few freckles are still littering his nose, though I know the rest are hiding until summer returns. It looks like he’s been hitting the gym more; he might be bigger than me now.
“Come here,” I tell him, and a moment later, I have my arms around him.
“Aww,” Susie coos, the corners of her brown eyes crinkling.
