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Chapter 1 Molly
Iwinced as I moved the makeup brush over my cheek, smoothing foundation over the tender, purplish mark on my face. The bruise looked darker in the light of day, where the shadows of night couldn’t hide the ugliness of the truth. With a sigh, I finished applying blush, lip gloss, and a light dusting of powder, followed by a bronzer. By the time I finished, the bruise had been covered. No one would know.
My phone buzzed as I shoved all my makeup back into the zippered bag I kept on the counter in my bathroom. I smiled when I saw Embry’s name flash over the screen. Swiping across the screen, I answered her call.
“Hey, Em.”
“Get your ass over here, babe. The sun is high, and I need color on my pasty skin.”
Snorting, I shook my head. “I’m ready. Just need to grab a towel and sunscreen, and I’ll head over.”
“I’ve got iced sweet tea. Just bring your sexy ass, and we’ll be all set.”
“On my way,” I replied before she ended the call.
With the sun shining brightly through my bedroom window, it was easy to push aside the oppressive, dark energy that flowed around me, extending from last night and my stepfather’s drunken tirade.
A shaky breath left my mouth on an exhale. He wasn’t here. Fred had left for work over two hours ago. I didn’t have to worry right now.
My gaze swept over my room and the drawing I finished sometime after midnight. Dark swirls and hidden faces stared back in sweeping, chaotic charcoal. The play between light and dark, the shadows, and the eerie, haunting shading I’d used proved my mind had retreated to a scary place after Fred’s explosive anger and physical violence last night.
Art was my salvation. A place where I could shove all the trauma, rage, pain, and horror and release it. Charcoal had become my favorite medium. I often got covered in charcoal dust, but it didn’t bother me. It washed off easily enough. But the result? The chalky depth of emotion translated so much better than paint.
A monster lived in my house, and the only way to lock him away from my mind was to shove him into a place where he couldn’t escape.
Embry lived at the end of the street. It took two minutes to reach her house. I entered through the gate to the left of her front porch and walked into her backyard, where I found her exposed to the sun as she stretched out on a folding lounge chair. Oversized sunglasses shielded her eyes as I sat in the empty chaise beside her.
“It’s hotter than hades out here already, and it’s only ten,” she complained as I whipped my coverup over my head and draped it over the back of the lounger. “Wow. That’s pretty. Is that the embroidered one you ordered last week?”
“Yep. Just got it in the mail yesterday. Isn’t it gorgeous?”
“Totally.” She readjusted her position and relaxed.
I pulled out the bottle of sunscreen and lightly applied it, slicking my body with the lotion. After a couple of minutes of exposure, the sun was already baking my skin. I wasn’t the type to get golden brown or bronzed. Embry had that particular gene, and I might have been slightly envious of her olive skin tone and dark, silky hair. But I got decent color and wouldn’t burn if I kept the sunscreen on. I just had to remember to reapply after we went swimming.
The pool glistened a few feet in front of us as a light breeze rippled across the crystal-clear water. Blue and white tiles in a stunning mosaic winked from below the surface. The jacuzzi bubbled to our right as if expecting company, and the calm serenity helped me forget about last night.
“I’m so glad it’s summer break. We literally have nothing to do for the next couple of months but lounge in my yard, swim, work on our tans, and meet cute boys.”
I snorted. “What cute boys are you referring to? I haven’t seen anyone new arrive in Vegas that isn’t a tourist or summer vacationer.”
“I’m being an optimist, bestie.”
I couldn’t help giggling at her response. “Right.”
“I’m sure it won’t matter to you until Slash arrives.”
Slash. Embry’s older cousin. The guy I’d secretly had a crush on since last summer when he showed up inked, muscled, and riding a Harley. Before then, I never thought bad boys were my type. Now, I kinda wondered if they were my only type because I’d since dated two guys who rode a motorcycle. Neither of them made my stomach flutter the same way Slash did, and that was a problem.
He didn’t know I existed.
“Embry,” I exhaled with a sigh.
“I know you think he doesn’t like you, but I saw how he looked at you the last time he was here. I’ve never seen heat blaze in a guy’s eyes for me like that.”
Uh-huh.
Wait. “Did you say Slash was coming?”
