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Chapter 1
Harper
Turtling into my body, I tried to make myself invisible on the old, worn couch surrounded by Villa Boys. Being unseen was better than being broken, and that's what my stepbrother, Noah, chose to do—break me.
Glancing up through my lashes, I watched him pace the old trailer's floor. His fist clenched at his side and his nostrils flared; I winced every time his massive boots hit the wooden floor, shaking the trailer. When Noah was in a rage, he usually took his anger out on me. My chest rose and fell with deep, rapid breaths as I tried to control the fear wrapping tightly around my lungs. Noah was unpredictable when angry.
His mortal enemies took something that belonged to him. Even though it was only a dime bag of weed, they were the ones who took it. They would have been furious if anyone took it, but those rich assholes dug a little deeper for Noah and his pack of mutts. I wasn't part of Noah's gang of thugs. I had no involvement in the incident, but I would pay for it.
"Those stupid fucking Valley Boys stole the weed out of my locker." Parker, Noah's second in command, groaned. Parker handled all drug sales within the high school since Noah was too old to get onto the campus grounds. "If I find out which asshole did it, I will break his face open."
The Valley Boys didn't need to steal the weed; they did it to set a fire on the south side of the tracks in the Villas.
The war between the Valley and the Villas went far beyond my eighteen years of life. I'd heard stories about how it started, and it was always different depending on who you asked. Not that it mattered. There would never be peace between the two.
Noah's dark eyes flicked from Parker to me. Squeezing my eyes shut, I said a silent prayer as fear constricted my lungs so tightly it was hard to breathe.
Shit!
Easing my eyes open, I avoided eye contact.
Do not incite the beast.
Noah was a beast, but it wasn't only his size that gave him the nickname; his bad temper and unpredictability were a deadly combination.
Tall, thick, and tatted, Noah wore his long dark hair slicked back into a greasy man bun, and his beard was thick and bushy. A few years older, several inches taller, and about one hundred and fifty pounds heavier than me, I knew I didn't stand a chance against him; at this point, I was trying to survive.
"Harper will go get it," he fumed, never taking his dark eyes off me. I cringed as my name left his lips. It meant I would have to do something I didn't want to. "Right, Harper?"
I wanted to argue, to tell him no, but I knew what would happen if I did.
Blowing out a heavy sigh, I caved. "I'm not sure who has it," I whispered, my pulse racing and pounding in my ears.
Noah was fast.
Before I had time to wince, he had me by my shirt. His fingers tangled into the thin material, lifting me off the couch. "Noah, please." My fingers curled around his wrist to steady myself. It was pointless to fight. He enjoyed it, and I usually ended up in more pain if I struggled.
"I don't give a fuck." His fist tightened as he pressed his face into my cheek. The heat from his breath burned against my skin as the smell of stale beer and weed hit my nose, making my stomach roll. "Get it back, or I'll make you regret breathing." His black combat boots pounded across the floor as he dragged me through the rundown trailer. Throwing the front door open, he shoved me out before tossing me down the broken front steps. A sadistic grin spread across his face as I lay in the dirt, trying to catch my breath for several long seconds before he disappeared inside and slammed the door behind him.
Closing my eyes tightly, I fought back the tears. I wanted to run away, disappear and never come back. I was eighteen, and no one could stop me, but where would I go? I had no car. No one would hire me in this shitty town because of my association with Noah and Levi, my stepfather. I had no money and no family to fall back on. My drug-addicted mom disappeared years ago. I was stuck, so I did the only thing I could. I pulled myself off the ground, brushed myself off, and devised a plan as I took the long walk from the Villas to the Valley.
I wasn't great at being bad, and I never seemed to get better at it, but I continued trying every time Noah forced me to do something I didn't want to do.
"Okay, Harper," I muttered, giving myself a pep talk. "You can do this. You just have to figure out who has the weed."
Rumors around the school were that Lincoln Elliott stole it from Parker's locker. Lincoln didn't bother to hide it because he wanted Parker to know. Thanks to Lincoln, I had a fresh bruise on my shoulder where it hit the porch when I was thrown off it. It wasn't like Lincoln couldn't afford to buy it. The Elliott family was one of the wealthiest in the Valley. Lincoln had two luxury cars, a sports car, and a motorcycle, but he still needed to piss off the Southside by stealing a bag of weed he could have bought.
"Okay." I slipped through the large security gate that protected the Valley homes from the trash of the Southside. "Where would the weed be?" Thinking, I nervously chewed on my bottom lip as my gaze darted around the entrance to the dark community. Even though it was a weekday, I knew the Valley Boys partied most nights at the Chandlers' house.
I would start there.
The likelihood of getting the weed back was slim, and I would take a beating for it, but I would try anyway.
Sucking in a deep breath, I walked the winding roads leading through the gorgeous mansions. If caught wandering the streets of the Valley, I'd be arrested and charged with loitering. No one would question what a Southside Villa girl was doing in the Valley because girls like me didn't belong on this side of the gates. Those gates were meant to keep out trash like me.
Trying to hide in the shadows, I walked the long asphalt path, trying to figure out where I was going. I wasn't sure which was the Chandlers' house.I'd never been in the Valley before.
The houses were spread wide apart, with tons of acres between each piece of property, but I lucked out after a short walk when I found a driveway with a massive rod-iron gate that read "Chandler" over the entrance; even better, the gate was open.
