Fractured Things - Samantha Lovelock Page 0,69
to me.
“Dad?” I call. He turns and sees me on the staircase, and there’s an odd expression on his face. One very similar to when my mother was being a bigger bitch than usual earlier this week. A creepy tension thickens the air as he hastily shakes the hand of the man he’s with and opens the front door, stepping aside to let him pass. The man stops on the front porch and pulls his coat's collar up higher around his neck and throat. He glances back over his shoulder at me, a strange and knowing grin on his lips, his eyes obscured by mirrored aviator sunglasses. Looking away, he nods once at my father and disappears out of my line of sight as the front door swings shut behind him.
My father makes every effort to appear casual and unruffled when we meet at the bottom of the stairs, and the forced behavior is making me uneasy.
“Bacon and eggs, son? I think Marisol already has the bacon started.” He claps me heartily on the back and steers me toward the kitchen while everything in me is screaming that another shitstorm is on the horizon.
Coming here tonight was not one of my better ideas. Parties at Payne’s are usually relatively low key affairs—a couple dozen kids, a keg, maybe some pot. This is absolutely not one of those parties. There must be three hundred people here, pulled in from neighboring towns and schools. Gator, the bloody mascot for San Francisco State, is in line for the bathroom in full gear, for Christ’s sake.
Already in a shitty mood, this hoard of drunk, sweaty, horny teenagers and twenty-somethings is only making me angrier and more likely to take somebody’s head off. It’s a damn sauna in here, and stupid me is sweating balls in leather pants. It would be great to be able to claim I have no idea what possessed me to wear these tonight, but that’d be a lie. They’re snug, they’re soft, and they emphasize all the right parts. In other words, they’re the perfect tool to rub Stella’s face in what she’s missing.
I’m sprawled lazily on a loveseat in the living room, one arm along the back, and my legs splayed out in front of me when a perky honey blonde with a huge rack bounces over.
Speaking of perfect tools, this one will do nicely.
She’s trying to talk to me over the noise of the crowd and the music, but I can’t hear a word. I point to my left ear and shake my head, then wait a few seconds while she clues in. I see, rather than hear, her giggle as her tits jiggle like twin Jello mountains in her skimpy tank top. Apparently assuming I’ve issued her an invitation, she plops down on the loveseat beside me. Her legs pull up beside her, and she leans in so close I could easily pop a nipple out and give it a lick.
Right then, I catch sight of the familiar raven black and silver-blonde heads weaving their way through the crowd. Stella’s eyes meet mine, and the hurt, angry, vengeful fucker in me comes out to play. A cruel smirk slides over my lips, and I slip my arm around the blonde, pulling her fully onto my lap. Her happy squeal pierces my eardrums, but the sick, horrified look on Stella’s face, that one shoots right into my heart.
Trying to maintain my practiced outward disregard for anybody but myself, I don’t shove the blonde away. Stella leans into Sunday, gesturing toward the front of the house, and Sunday flips me her middle finger when her best friend turns to go back the way they came. Strutting over to stand directly in front of me, Sunday rolls her eyes.
“Do you have to be such an asshole, Halliday?” she says contemptuously.
“Why yes, yes I do. Feel free to keep walking if you don’t like it.” Her eyes widen in surprise but then quickly narrow, and I know I’m in big shit.
Dammit, crossed a line with that one. What the hell was I thinking?
She starts to walk away from me in disgust, so I dump Fanny Funbags off my lap and go after her, feeling like a massive shitheel when I touch her arm and she jerks it away.
“Sunday, I’m sorry. I know I’m acting like a prick. Come on, please don’t walk away,” I wheedle.
“You may be like a brother to me, but I don’t want to know you right now.