“You know what? I haven’t had a minute to talk to your new friend. It’s about time I welcome her properly into the fold, don’t you think?” She winks at me before trying to pass me by.
Before she’s able to take a further step away, I grab her elbow and look deep into her startled, blue eyes.
“You sure you’re good, Ken?”
This time the reassuring grin she offers is sincere, but her gaze can’t hide the lingering tinge of sadness to it.
“I’m fine, Easton.” She nods. “Just parched all of a sudden. I’m just going to steal your date away and see if she also wants something to drink while you boys talk.”
“Fine, but be nice. Don’t scare her off, will ya?”
“No promises.” She warns mischievously. “If I don’t think she’s a good fit for you, then a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do. You know how it is.”
Kennedy would send Scarlett running to the hills if she thought for a moment that she was unworthy. I know that much. Ken’s always been very territorial of us four and an expert at catching the scent of deceit in the air. She isn’t afraid to crush any threat down if she believes there are ulterior motives we’re too blinded by affection or lust to see. But I guess that’s what family does—they have your back and protect you, even when there is no cause for concern.
“She’s a good girl,” I explain assuredly.
“Ah, honey. We all are on the surface.”
She pats me on the shoulder and waltzes over to Scarlett. I nod my okay when Ken loops her arm with Scar’s, pulling her toward the party. When I’m positive they are out of earshot, I turn to face my other best friend, who unsurprisingly is still fuming beside me.
“Care to explain what the fuck that was all about?” Colt doesn’t even bat an eye at my accusing tone.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t you fucking dare lie to me, asshole. I’m not having your shit today,” I roar, poking him hard in the chest with my finger. “I thought you were done with this.”
“It’s none of your business, East,” he answers through gritted teeth, leaning against the wall.
“Don’t do something you’ll regret.”
“Too late for that. Just worry about what you’ve got going and leave Ken to me,” he huffs.
Always the arrogant asshole.
I eat up the space between us and get up in his face. Everyone might think twice before antagonizing the vain beast that stands before me, but Colt has never had the same intimidating effect on me that he has on everyone else. One devil can’t scare another into a corner when both have been forged in flames.
“This cannot happen again. You feel me?” I warn him.
“Fuck off.”
“Jesus, Colt. I know you’re stubborn as fuck, but you’ve never been stupid. What if Tommyboy had seen you two? Or her brother? You know those assholes are both here tonight, right?”
“Like I give two fucks about either one of them,” he scoffs, running his fingers through his dark hair.
“Oh, yeah? Then what if it had been Lincoln who caught you two instead of me?” I growl, to which the pretentious fucker has the decency to look immediately heartbroken.
“If she wanted him, she’d be with him. But she’s not, now is she? She’s fucking engaged to Maxwell’s sperm accident.”
“You know what? I take it back. You are fucking stupid as shit! Did it ever occur to you that the reason she isn’t with Linc is because he’s the one putting the brakes on?”
He bows his head, trying to hide that same pained shimmer in his emerald eyes.
“Don’t be an asshole, brother. You know she’s all he cares about. Sooner or later, Linc will get his head out of his ass and tell Ken as much. And when he does, she won’t pick anyone but him. She loves him.”
“You think I don’t know that shit?!” he belts out, pulling away from the wall.
I temper his rage by placing my hands on his shoulders.
“I think sometimes you try to forget it.”
He huffs, throwing me a weak glare that is so uncharacteristic coming from him. It is a true testament of the torment he’s been suffering for longer than he will care to admit.
“When did things get so fucked-up?”
“Haven’t they always been?” I shrug.
He lets out a long exhale.
“Fuck it,” he grunts, looking more like the psycho we all love. “Go and get back to your girl. I gotta go and find something to take the edge off.”
“You do that.”
He walks down the hall in a rush, in search of whatever warm body will temper his sullen mood. I may have been coined as the dark prince in our little band of brothers, but what everyone refuses to see is that Colt is just as grim and isolated as I am. Maybe even more so. But I’ve got too many problems of my own to waste my time worrying about Colt’s bruised ego.
I go in search of Scarlett and find her silently standing beside Ken in the entrance hall, as my friend chats Finn and Stone’s ear off. I’m about to go over and tease the fuck out of Scar—considering she can’t seem to look either of them in the eye—when someone beats me to the punch.
“And just who is this?” an irksome, velvety voice asks behind her.
In a mask from The Phantom of the Opera, Thomas Maxwell Jr. looks at my girl as if she’s a snack, and he’s got the fucking munchies.
“This is Scarlett. Easton’s friend,” Kennedy informs him stiffly, her voice just as annoyed with the fact that his mask can’t conceal the way his eyes keep skating up and down Scarlett’s body.
Compared to the other scantily dressed girls at the party, Scarlett’s costume is tame. In a long, ankle-length, white gown, she is the epitome of what a fallen angel must look like. The only thing that she didn’t account for with this ensemble was the fluorescent lighting in some of these rooms, making her white gown stand out from the fold, right along with the laced bra and pantie set beneath.
“You don’t say?” Tommyboy says, oddly impressed. “Pleasure to meet you, Scarlett. Although I do feel we have already.”
“She’s in Harper’s Ethics class. Maybe it’s from there,” Kennedy explains, trying to divert his attention off Scarlett, picking up on how my girl has gone rigidly still in her fiancé’s presence.
“No, that’s not it. I hardly go to that stuck-up bitch’s class. Not after she gave me a D last semester.”
“Maybe from church. My Uncle Jack leads the First Baptist Church over at Walnut Grove. Maybe we’ve crossed paths there,” Scarlett pitches in, her voice not as even as I would have liked.
“Definitely not from church,” he snickers, wrapping his arms around Kennedy’s neck.
I watch my friend tense up and then purposely make herself soften in his embrace.
“Somewhere else. I just can’t put my finger on it. Take off your mask, sweetheart. Maybe if I see your full face, it’ll come back to me.”