Wicked Love - Michelle Dare Page 0,71

but I’m not here to notice things like that. I promised my dad I would stay safe, and allowing someone into my personal life would only make matters worse.

“Hey, Girl.” Paula grins as she finds an empty seat beside me. She’s dressed in a tight pair of yoga pants and what I’m hoping are fake snakeskin boots. Her top is tight against her curves. The neckline dipping just far enough to make me blush. Tamika is in jeans, along with a band tee that hangs off one shoulder. Casual, yet sexy. And Miriam has her hair pinned up messily, wearing a long-sleeved knee-length, peach knitted dress. With her shiny, black boots, she looks like she’s just stepped off a teen TV show.

“Hi,” I whisper at them. “I wanted to ask all of you something.” But before I can get it out, Professor Langley rises and clears his throat, and I know I won’t be able to chat with them until we’re released from English class.

An hour later, I’m chomping at the bit to get the information I need, so when we’re finally allowed to leave, I’m on my feet in seconds, waiting for the girls to join me, before we head out of class.

Out in the hallway, I turn to find the three of them staring at me. “What?”

“You look like shit.” Paula is the honest one. I can’t deny it, but I still flinch at her words. “Sorry, but someone had to say it. Are you okay?”

“Not really,” I tell her. “I got this yesterday, and I needed to know if any of you have any idea who sent it and why.” I pull out the card, and the audible gasp that comes from the girls is evidence they most certainly do know exactly what it means.

“Oh, shit,” Miriam mumbles with a grin on her face. It’s only then I really look at her, noticing the freckles that dot her nose. Similar to mine. Being redheaded, I’ve lived with freckles over my nose and cheeks, and even though they’ve always been the bane of my existence, I feel a connection with Miriam, because we share something I’ve always been bullied having.

“What? What is ‘oh shit’? Is this bad?”

“You’ve been summoned,” Tamika tells me in an overly dramatic tone, which makes a cold chill take hold of me.

“What do you mean?”

“This is a Haven invite,” Miriam says, plucking the card from my fingers, turning it front to back. She scans the writing on the one side, then nods. “Yeah, you’ve been invited to the Haven castle,” she tells me. “They have an annual Halloween party, and this is the official invite. This wasn’t sent by one of the townsfolk, since we’re all allowed to invite one person to join us. You’ve been invited by one of the Haven boys.”

I point at Paula before speaking. “The same one—”

“Indeed. I can’t tell just from this which one invited you, but there are three brothers in the Haven clan. Not by blood, but their bond is strong.”

“Adopted?”

She nods. “Octavius Haven, the father, adopted three boys when they were young. I think the eldest boy, Creed, was only about five when he came to Thorne Haven. You then have the second eldest, which is Keirin, and the youngest one is Brody.” Miriam’s explanation stops as she looks at the card again.

“So, what’s with the fascination?” I ask, my gaze flicking to each girl. They all seem less than enthused to talk about the boys, but I need to know what I’m getting myself into. Not that I agreed to go, but I have thought about it.

All three girls look uncomfortable. It’s as if there’s a big secret and any outsider shouldn’t know about it. Because that’s what I am. Merely an outsider to the secrets that lie within the walls of this town.

“Come on, it can’t that bad,” I tease, but deep down, I have a feeling it is that bad. But I don’t say anything more.

“The party is good fun. You should go,” Paula finally speaks up. But the flicker of uncertainty in her gaze makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

“So, all three brothers are bad boys, but you’re telling me to go to the party,” I say, giving each of them a look of indignation.

“If it were Brody or Keirin, it’s fine,” Tamika says.

“But Creed is . . . different,” Miriam announces, the word she uses to describe him making me shiver involuntarily. I don’t mind