I try not to feel disappointment at his “little girl” comment, but it’s hard not to feel dejected. I know my feelings will never be returned, and comments like that shatter the illusion. Yet I’d rather dwell in blissful ignorance when it comes to Bennett Carver.
“Thank you, Sierra. I love it.” He bends down, pressing a soft kiss to my cheek, and my legs almost go out from under me. Behind him, Saskia smirks, her haughty expression telling me she knows all about my crush on her boyfriend. “I will treasure it always.”
Saskia rolls her eyes. “It’s a stupid painting from an impressionable kid with a crush. Please don’t pretend like it’s some masterpiece.”
“You’re being a complete bitch, and my patience is in limited supply,” Ben tells her, looking like he’s two seconds away from snapping her neck.
I’m not sure I’d care if he did.
“Oh, relax.” Saskia attempts to laugh it off. “You’re so tense tonight.” She grabs his shoulders, digging her hands in. “But I can help with that after dinner,” she purrs, and my stomach lurches painfully.
“Would it kill you to be nice?” he asks, his eyes darting between Saskia and me.
“I am nice,” she protests, and I barely resist another eyeroll. “And I really don’t get why you bother. It’s not like she’s your little sister.”
A muscle pops in his jaw, and I inwardly rejoice at the fact my sister appears to have foot-in-mouth disease tonight. Maybe Ben has finally wised up. Maybe he’s planning to break up with her. God, I hope so, because he deserves so much better.
My joy is short-lived though as I contemplate what it would mean. I wouldn’t see him anymore. He wouldn’t bring me cupcakes from the Mountainview Bakery, and he wouldn’t talk to me about my art or ask how school is, and I’d have one less person who seems to care about me in my life.
But I can sacrifice that if it means he is free of the witch and he finds someone nice who appreciates him.
“If I had a sibling,” Ben says, “I would cherish him or her and do everything to build them up, not tear them down. You don’t realize how lucky you are.”
“And you don’t realize how lucky you are being an only child,” she retorts.
Ben shoves her hands off him, and I can tell he’s working hard to control his temper. “Let’s just get out of here before we miss our dinner reservation,” he says after a few silent beats. He turns to me one final time, gracing me with a beautiful smile. “Good night, Firefly.”
“Good night, Ben.”
Maybe I had a sixth sense that night, but that was the last time I saw him. Less than a week later, Ben had mysteriously disappeared. Vanished without telling anyone, leaving his girlfriend behind without a word, fueling her anger and her heartbreak.
Over the years, I wondered what happened to him. Whether he was safe. Whether he was happy. Until he stopped occupying space in my head and I managed to forget him.
I never thought I’d ever see him again.
I never thought I’d need him to rescue me.
And I certainly never thought I’d grow to fear him.
PART I - EIGHT YEARS LATER
1
SIERRA
“Bottoms up, babe!” Esme roars over the deafening noise of the club. “It’s time to get officially drunk for the first time.”
“It feels good to be legal now.” No more fake ID’s for me. Yay! Quickly licking the salt off my hand, I knock back the tequila shot, grimacing as it burns sliding down my throat.
“Now we’re all twenty-one,” Penelope confirms, shuddering as she drains her shot. “And the world is definitely our oyster.”
I’m the last of my friends to celebrate this milestone, so we decided to celebrate in style. Hence why we are currently in one of the top nightclubs in Sin City, groomed to within an inch of our lives, and ready to party with a capital P.
“Says the girl who is already engaged,” Esme replies, arching one elegant brow as she tosses her long wavy locks over one shoulder.
“What the hell has that got to do with it?” Penelope asks, narrowing her warm brown eyes at Esme.
“Nope.” I shake my head, eyeballing them. “You two are not getting into it tonight. It’s my birthday, and we’re in Las Vegas, on a freebie, courtesy of my parents, and I’m deeming it an argument-free zone. No fighting on my birthday, capisce?” I wave my finger in their faces.
I love these girls to bits. They are more my sisters than Saskia and Serena, and they bicker as much as real sisters do. You couldn’t find two more different women, but we’ve all been close since middle school, and I can’t imagine my life without them in it. They have kept me from rocking in a corner when my family has driven me to the point of insanity.
“You just had to pull the birthday-girl card, huh?” Esme grins as she reaches over to grab the tray of cocktails from the waiter when he sets it down on our table. “Thanks,” she mouths, pinning the hottie with one of her trademark flirtatious grins.
Esme is drop-dead gorgeous with thick dark-red hair and striking green eyes that are even brighter than my emerald peepers, but it’s her winning personality that seduces every man who sets eyes on her. Esme is a woman who knows what she wants and goes for it. I like to think we share similar traits in that regard, but I’m less obvious when going after something I want.
“Fine. You win.” Penelope readily concedes because she’s not one to hold a grudge. With her big eyes, petite frame with voluptuous curves in all the right places, and her straight-talking attitude, Pen is no less of a catch than Esme. Leaning across the low black-and-red velvet couch, she kisses Esme on the cheek as she accepts a vodka cocktail from her. “Love you, babe.”
“Right back at ya.” Esme blows her a kiss before handing me a cosmopolitan. The other five girls in our party—a mix of friends from our hometown in Chicago and a couple of girls from college—snatch cocktails until the tray is empty.
We chat and laugh as we drain our drinks, and I’m nicely buzzed. Coming to Vegas was a genius idea, and I really owe Esme for organizing the entire trip. I know Pen helped out too, but she’s in the thick of wedding planning, and Esme didn’t want her stressing out so she did the bulk of the work. I would’ve helped, if I had been allowed, but the girls wanted the details kept a surprise until we arrived.
“Let’s dance,” Tammy says, tugging on my elbow as some of the girls stand, heading away from our table. We’re in a reserved section of the lower level of the club, and Esme has paid for the table so it is ours for the night.
“Come on.” I rise, lifting one shoulder, as I glance down at Pen and Esme. I’m not going dancing without my besties. The girls need little encouragement, polishing off their drinks before they follow us out of our section and into the main body of the large club.
The place is teeming with people. Although lighting is low, my eyes drink in the surroundings, admiring the attention to detail. I hope whoever designed this place got a nice fat bonus. They’ve gone with a fire theme, and the décor is a mix of different materials and colors, all in various shades of red, orange, black, and gold. Decadent crystal chandeliers hang over our heads, and it’s obvious no expense has been spared. Multicolored strobe lights stretch across the room from the dance floor, providing bursts of illumination as we make our way through the main room.