Unlawful Temptations (The Star-Crossed Series Book 1)

The party house for tonight was straight out of a wannabe angsty-teen movie. Dub-step blared from the house, shaking the ground beneath my feet as I walked up the front steps with Layla. The lawn was littered with empty bottles and empty-headed drunkards who half slurred, half howled obscenities at us as we walked by.

Tonight, I would be one of those mindless drunkards.

I was so fucking pumped.

Inside, sweat-glistened bodies were everywhere, writhing to the bass of the music that vibrated the walls all around us. I didn’t recognize a single face, and I smiled a toothy grin. Good. I wanted to get shit-faced without having to worry about what any old co-workers or idiots from high school would think about why I wanted to get sloppy drunk.

I just could, and that was the impetus for tonight.

Layla wrapped her fingers around my arm and yanked me close. “Where’s Daren?”

“Fuck if I know,” I yelled back over the music. “I texted him that we were here.”

She nodded, giving a sweep of the mosh pit of bodies, then snapped her smokey-eyed focus back to me. “Shots?”

I scoffed back in insult. “Obviously.”

Layla dragged me alongside her, our arms looped so we wouldn’t get separated. I kept an eye out for a familiar buzz cut head in the sea of screaming, dancing, blitzed out of their mind people, and still didn’t see Daren.

Daren’s whereabouts slunk to the back of my mind as Layla and I finally made it to the kitchen, and excitement spiked in my blood as I laid my eyes on the counter. All the bad decisions I planned on making tonight cheered as I looked over the line of liquor bottles set out, mouth salivating for which one to start with.

A neon pink shot glass being handed to me interrupted my sightline.

“What is it?” I asked, taking it from Layla.

“Vodka, I think.”

“Fuck, I hate vodka.”

“It’s free. You’ll love it.”

Groaning, Layla and I clinked our plastic glasses together and kicked back the shots.

Immediately, my head jerked back with the foul taste incinerating my tastebuds. I bared my teeth as I swallowed and dropped my tongue out of my mouth like the air could dry the awful taste off my tongue.

“Nope. Nope, not better if it’s free.”

A none too pleased frown sat on Layla’s lips, and she nodded. “There’s gotta be Jack or Jose somewhere in this house.”

“Yeah, I’m in a tequila kind of mood anyway.”

“You know—” Her doe-like brown eyes cast a glance down my front. “Tequila makes your clothes fall off, and you’re not wearing much to begin with.”

She had a point. Since I never really got to go out, I splurged on my look tonight a tad bit. I deserved to, though. I deserved one night of getting dolled up and wearing those high-waisted, black shorts I rarely ever touched and curling my hair. I deserved lace tights. I deserved this little red crop top that Layla lent me last year and to dye my lips the same sinful red.

I deserved to feel fucking good about myself, right?

“Is it too much?” I asked with a wrinkled nose.

Layla jerked her head back, eyes wide. “Hell no. You look fucking hot.”

“I’d have to agree,” a voice purred in my ear, hands sliding around my bare waist. I’d have jumped out of my skin and slapped wherever the voice came from if I hadn’t recognized it.

“You finally found us.” I craned around to see Daren and his stare that was plastered down my shirt. He hummed, sliding his hands down to my ass.

“I did.” Then his face was gone as he called to someone behind him. “I told you she was here, dickhead.”

My stare flew to find a shaggy, blonde-haired man with his hand gripping onto Daren’s shoulder and his eyes on me. All of me. His mouth was agape like a goddamn fish, and an immediate wave of hatred went off beneath my skin. Daren, however, had the stupidest grin on his face as he let this dude eye fuck me to his dick’s content.

“Hey.”

Pervy snapped his liquored up gaze to me, squeezing Daren’s shoulder. “Who the fuck are you?” I demanded.

“I’m who the fuck’s house this is,” he laughed, lust weighing his hazy eyes back down my body. “There’s no way you’re with Daren.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Layla giving both Daren and Pervy the stink eye.

“She is, man!” Just to prove it, Daren grabbed a handful of my ass, and I yelped, punching him in the shoulder. “Tell him, babe.”

Side-eyeing him with daggers, I brushed his hand from my ass. “Yeah. I’m dating this dipshit. Happy?” I turned my head up to Daren, and his lips slanted into a cocky grin.

“I could have gone without the dipshit part but yeah, I’m happy.”

“Good. Now, let’s go so Layla and I can kick your ass at beer pong.”

Pervy let out a riotous noise, egging on the challenge I’d laid at Daren’s feet. Layla cheered too, calling out that she was running to grab us another shot before we started the game. Daren hovered over me, hands finding the dips of my waist as a smirk found his lips.

“I see my kitty kat came out to play tonight, didn’t she?”

Tilting my head back with a soft laugh, I leaned into his chest until my lips met his ear. There, I grazed his lobe until I felt a shiver run the length of his body, and then I whispered. “No. She came out to win.”

* * *

Three games later, and Daren was being a little bitch in the corner of the room.

He was fine after he lost the first game. He was a little less fine after the second loss, but still kept his cool. After the third loss, however, he knocked over the last remaining cup of theirs and splashed beer all over the place, including on Layla and I.

Fire erupted up my throat as I spewed a few choice words at him before Layla ushered me away and to the bathroom to clean ourselves up. Fucking Daren. You know what? Anastasia was right. All men were babies. That and sore losers.

So what if I was a sore winner and danced every time they lost and we won? That wasn’t the point.

The point was that Daren sucked, and I needed more alcohol. Since we didn’t lose a single game, Layla and I were far too sober by the end of it. After we cleaned the stench of beer off of us in the bathroom and fixed our makeup, we went on the hunt for that tequila we wanted earlier.

And boy, did we find it.

We found twelve shots of it divided unevenly between the two of us.

It landed us on the front porch that was mostly deserted by now, passing the emptying bottle of Jose back and forth, spilling our drunken guts out to each other.

“I missed you so fucking much, Kit Kat.” Layla plopped her head in my lap, staring up at the stars as I stared down at her and her three eyes. Fuck, four? They were moving too fast for me to count. “I wished you worked at the store still. I’d suck everyone in management off if it got you your job back.”

Laughter peppered up my throat and drifted off into the night air. “What about Scott?”

“I’d do it.”

“Tony?”

“There is not a dick there I will not suck for you.”

“Patrick?”

She paused.

“You don’t even have to bribe me to do that one.”

Running my fingers through her soft hair, I curled a piece around my pointer finger, the onyx black of her hair contrasting against my skin. “I appreciate the offer, Lay. You’re the MVP ride or die.”

“That’s right. I’d fucking die for you.”

“Then I would just have to die with you, because I can’t imagine life without you.”

“Oh my god!” Layla shot up off my lap, locking her hazy excitement on me. “Then we could be ghosts together and haunt people and shit!”

“Oh fuck, I would draw so many dicks on bathroom mirrors when people were showering.”

Layla cackled in return, throwing her head back. “That’s like, the dumbest thing you could do as a ghost.”

“Hey! Don’t judge my style of haunting. I’d draw really small dicks. Like four inchers. Now that’s fucking terrifying.”

Layla blinked at me, a seriousness drawn into her face. “I have chills.”

“Told ya.”

After a few seconds, a groan came from Layla, and she clutched her stomach. Worry piqued in my head as I watched her and wondered if she’d hit her limit for the night. Thankfully, she seemed attuned to the same thing as she struggled to stand up and find her footing.

“I’m gonna go get some chips to soak some of this tequila up. You want anything?”

Shaking my head, I snatched the bottle from her hand.

“Nah, I’m set with this for now.”

“Suit yourself,” she mumbled, staggering into the house in search of food.

The front door closed behind her, the pulsing music turning to a muffle again. Sighing, I laid my head back against the hand railing of the porch stairs and tightened my grip around the neck of the tequila. A breeze nipped past, icing my blood, and I tipped back another swig until the burn of alcohol warmed my chest.

It wasn’t cold outside. Not even a little, but night time always made me cold. No matter if it was 100 degrees out, the lack of sun always left me shivering.

Plus, I kind of liked the numbness being drunk brought to my veins.

I liked to imagine the alcohol swirling like ribbons through my body and cutting off circulation to everywhere but my heart. I didn’t feel my fingers or my toes. I didn’t feel the goosebumps riding my skin. I didn’t feel my problems or internal aches like the constant sting they were.

I was just numb and happy and floating.

Even if just for a few hours.

In a roundabout way, I knew I was lucky that I couldn’t drink often. I liked the numbness way too much to ignore the addiction genes that ran through my veins. Every now and again was doable. Sustainable.

Safe.

Down the street, a movement caught my lazing stare. I squinted, but no amount of narrowing my vision helped to focus it. My eyes were half-full of tequila, and anything that wasn’t right in front of my face was drowned out to a blur in it.

All I could make out were swipes of dimly lit houses down the road and the street lamps that lit them. Tall globes of light. They each looked like their own moon, glowing sharply against the stretch of black earth. At that thought, I reached my head back all the way to the sky, rooting out the real moon with my half drunk eyes.

“Moooon,” I cooed, sing-songy and soft. “Where the fuck are you?”

Laughter sputtered out of my mouth at myself. Fucking weirdo.

Then I remembered the movement down the street like it was a shiny object that nabbed my attention again. I cast my gaze back down to it, and it was closer than before, and it was actually shiny. Big and shiny and white and black and—

“Oh fuck,” I breathed. Sharp dread stabbed my stomach, and I shot up off the porch steps. My hand slapped on the handle of the front door, and I threw it open with a devastating holler.

“Cops! Cops are here!”

The blasting music swallowed my screams to the masses, but a few party goers heard my cries and looked right at me, terror holding their muscles still.

“Go! Fucking move!” I yelled, pushing my way into the throng of bodies.

The further I got and the more I screamed, the more I started to see people jump into action, spreading the news like wildfire. I could see it flurrying through the crowd and scorching everyone’s fun. Some brushed it off with an eye roll, but others like me, who knew they were way more fucked up than they were legally allowed to be, panicked, and that’s when hell broke loose.

People were running, jumping, hiding in the bathroom. Those above the legal drinking age were trying to calm those of us that weren’t and were about to be busted. The music came to a screeching halt and all it left were loud voices toppling one over another, crying, and lots of panic.

“Layla! Daren!”

My eyes flew in every which direction searching for the two of them. People were scattering, tripping over one another like cattle trying to not be the one caught by the wolf that invaded their land.

I stumbled into the living room, heart slamming in my eardrums as I pulled back another breath to scream for Layla and Daren one last time. That air choked in my throat as I finally landed sights on one of them, and a fury set off in my blood so vicious, it overruled the alcohol.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!”

Daren didn’t hear me—couldn’t hear me, in fact. He was too busy getting his ass through a window and stranding me here even though he was twenty-two and wouldn’t be in trouble.

Unlike me.

“Asshole,” I cursed under my breath.

Clamour went off towards the front of the house, followed by a booming voice. “Everyone stay put!”

Fuck no.

This would not be how tonight ended. Not for me. I was not about to be arrested on the first night I let loose and acted my age in Lord knows how long. No, I was getting out of here, and I was getting out of here now.

“Layla, you sneaky bitch, I’m leaving you in five seconds if you don’t come out!”

Nothing but dwindling chaos met my call, and I waited until I couldn’t wait anymore.

A mixture of determination and guilt trampled my chest, but Layla was a big girl and twenty-one already. Plus, she didn’t live too far away and could run there if she really wanted. She was fine, and I had to focus on myself.

On getting the fuck outta there. Now.

I bolted around corners and flashed past the kitchen, thanking the heavens that I chose only slightly heeled combat boots for this outfit. They were perfect for running, perfect for escaping a cozy night in jail.

My mind was pumping fast, intertwining actions and thoughts together surprisingly well as I diverted around furniture and headed for the back of the house where the authoritative voice was not.

Adrenaline rushed my lungs as I spotted a door against the furthest wall of the house that had to lead outside. I raced for it, tearing the thing open and was smacked in the face with fresh air. Fresh air and freedom.

“Yes!” I took the steps down the backstairs so fast, my feet were a blur of persistence. I hadn’t been in the backyard yet, but it was an open space with stringing lights all over the place, knocked over lawn chairs, and shadows of retreating partygoers.

Breaking into a sprint, I dodged the fallen chairs on the lawn and even jumped over one for the hell of it. Pride cinched up my cheeks as I laughed.

“I’m one skilled drunk motherfucker.”

There were houses on either side of the one I’d just come out of, and I swooped right to make a final break for it. Heart pounding, wind breaking across my face, alcohol pumping my blood faster and faster, my legs carried me around the corner of the house to where I could finally see the empty street. Finally see freedom.

And then, out of the shadows at the end of the narrowed pathway appeared an even bigger shadow. One with a glint of a badge settled across his chest.

My feet skidded in the grass, heart striking a loud bang between my ears.

My grin slipped and crashed. Fear gripped my entire body in a searing burn, and I spun without looking back, tearing into the grass with my heel and took off in the other direction.

Only to be pulled back by a jarring gasp as I saw that the huge shadow had a friend, one that was waiting with his arms out on either side, ready to catch me if I made a break for it. Clammy horror poured through every cell, every nerve, every inch of me until I was heaving terror-filled breaths.

No. No. No. No.

“Ma’am, stay where you are.”

That came from the shadow’s friend in front of me, his face illuminated by an overhead motion sensor light that came on as soon as he stepped beneath it. The spotlight was unflattering on the rounded edges of his face, revealing a man pudgier than he originally appeared.

I could probably out run him.

My heel tipped upwards with the thought, and the police officer in front of me watched me do it. “That would be a really stupid thing to do, Ma’am.”

More stupid than getting caught and arrested for underage drinking when I was solely responsible for my younger sister? Not even close. I had to run. There was no other choice but to run. I felt trapped—cornered. No, I was in fact both trapped and cornered with no foreseeable way out that didn’t involve a magical carpet appearing out of thin air.

Stupid fucking fairytales and their false expectations.

“Ma’am, hands behind your back.” The cop in front of me trudged closer. I jumped back, feet feeling like they were lit with sparklers just dying to shoot off.

“I’m 18!” I cried.

“Don’t you mean 21?”

Fuck! I was too drunk for this. “Yes! Sorry. Slip of the tongue.”

“Where’s your I.D?”

“It’s, uh… in my car.”

The overweight cop rolled his eyes at my lie and shook his head, reaching into his belt to pull out his handcuffs.

This can’t be happening.

Dread pushed up and down on my chest, and my fingers twitched as he got closer. The flash of handcuffs blinded any logic I had left at the moment, and all I could see was Charlotte. Her round face. Her sweet eyes. Her crushing disappointment in me when I didn’t pick her up from Mrs. Sharon’s tomorrow because I was stuck in jail.

No. I refused. I fucking refused to put the same sorrow in her eyes that our mother put there daily. I had to try. I had to run. One last time. I had to run for Charlotte.

A feral cry tore through my throat as I dug my toes into the dirt and twisted around, ducking to dodge the huge shadow behind me.

A flash of the empty black road was as far as I got.

Two large hands caught my shoulders and shoved me back, holding me in place with a stiff grip. A ferocious cry split between my lips as I thrashed in the shadow’s tight grasp, baring my teeth as he clamped down harder around my bare arms.

From above came the shadow’s voice, ominous and dark like a shadow’s should be. “I suggest you stop trying that.”

“Get your hands off of me,” I growled, shaking myself back and forth in his grip.

Breath tickled the top of my head as the shadow spoke again. “Put yours behind your back first.”

Electrified rage shook my bones until they felt like they could rupture and slice through this man with its splinters. How dare he sound so arrogant, so smug, while he ruined my life just because I wasn’t twenty-one yet.

The tequila running through my blood tangoed in a poisonous concoction with my temper, and I reared my head back to spit the vile result at him. “Suck my dick, you—”

Every single insult I had locked and loaded tumbled back down my throat. Bafflement dropped my lips apart as I scanned the shadow’s familiar face and realized I knew his deep voice too. And those eyes.

There was no mistaking those eyes.

“Kat?”

All of me trembled as he said my name again, vibrating in shock just as it had hours ago. Dominic’s eyes worked across my face in slow lines, taking me in as I did the same to him.

“You know her, Reeds?” the other officer asked.

“Sort of.” Dominic’s answer was a low, even mumble. He was still studying me, looking down at me as if he had a million questions and he could crack me open and suck out the answers. The intensity of his stare crept an unhealthy dose of anxiety into the fiber of my bones, and I squirmed beneath his gaze.

“I’ve got a couple in my squad car already. You wanna bring her in?”

Horror flared inside of me, and I knew it made it up to my face because of how Dominic reacted. That razored jaw clicked. Those eyes smouldered. The hold he had around me grew punishing.

“Yeah. This one’s mine.”