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Immediately, I get up and lock the door. I hate the fact that Raymond can enter and exit every room whenever the fuck he wants.
And I hate the fact that I’m trapped here, presumed dead by the rest of the world.
And I hate the fact that Ellie—my Ellie—will be going to a party, dressed in a bathing suit, in front of a bunch of other guys who don’t deserve to see even an inch of her perfect skin.
At least she has Zane, Beckett, Landon, and Dominic to watch over her while I’m unable to.
A glacial, sardonic smile tugs up my lips as the sharpest edge of my anger dulls.
I have a feeling blood will be spilled at Grove Academy long before the night is over.
5
ELLIE
“I’m not sure this is a good idea!” I call out, twisting and turning in front of the bathroom mirror, my stomach in knots and my hands slick with sweat.
“Let me see!” Piper pleads. “Come out!”
I frown at my reflection as I study the dark green bikini Piper allowed me to borrow for the party tonight. The top clings to my generous breasts and is secured around my neck with a tie—a precarious tie that I fear will come loose at the slightest provocation. The bottoms leave very little to the imagination, showing more ass cheek than I thought possible.
Quickly, I grab the long-sleeved, black cover-up that Jane offered me and throw it over my head. I can almost pretend that I’m wearing undergarments and a dress, not a scanty bathing suit and cover-up.
Almost.
But it’s not like I even plan to strip down while I’m at the party. Not only will the guys freak out, but I worry someone will notice the scars disfiguring my inner wrists.
That’s one conversation I’m not ready to have. With anyone.
“Ellie!” Piper bangs her fist against the door yet again and releases a pitiful growl. Zane would lose his shit if he ever heard her make that particular noise. I can already hear his mocking taunts and her quick-witted retorts.
“I’m coming! I’m coming! Don’t go blowing down my door,” I tease, trying to push down my mounting self-consciousness.
I can’t believe I’m actually doing this. Going to a pool party…in a bikini.
My guys are going to freak, even though I’m mostly covered by my slip.
And I’m going to freak because four of the sexiest men alive are going to be in nothing but swim trunks. Shirtless.
Oh, hell.
I did not think this through.
Why do I have the feeling I’m going to be slashing out eyes before the night is over?
The burst of possessiveness surprises me, as does the sudden wave of jealousy that practically plows me over.
I don’t want anyone to see my guys shirtless.
I don’t want anyone to ogle their perfect bodies.
I don’t want anyone to think about touching them, kissing them, owning them.
Heat engulfs my cheeks when I realize how far down the rabbit hole I’ve fallen. I’m not in Wonderland. Nope, I somehow landed smack-dab in the middle of hell.
Sometimes, it’s hard for me to wrap my head around the fact that the guys like me. That they chose me. I’m a chaotic mess of bumbling energy, and they’re the epitome of sexiness and grace. My social skills could best be described as “opossum level.” I hiss and claw and make an utter fool of myself nine times out of ten. And don’t even get me started on the number of smutty romance novels I read…
Reality can be a bitch, and I prefer to lose myself in the magic of words and literature. Only Ryker shares my love of books—albeit, reluctantly. I’m still surprised he was willing to read my latest romance book, a smutty why-choose novel about a woman who falls in love with four monsters.
