“Dina!” A familiar voice calls from another room, one I recognize as Tracey’s, Mrs. Donovan’s best friend who practically lives here.
“In here, Trace!” Mrs. Donovan calls over her shoulder, before directing her attention back on me. “Be careful, okay? You know what they say about crossing a Blackthorne.”
“What about the Blackthornes?” Tracey stands in the doorway with a bag of popcorn clutched to her chest. She tosses a couple into her mouth and saunters into the room. At forty-five, she’s not bad looking. Sandy brown hair that she pulls back into a messy bun on top of her head. Pale blue eyes, and a decent figure despite having had a few kids. The wrinkles and bad skin from years of sunbathing make her look older, though.
“Isa has taken a job, working for them.”
“No shit?” Face alight with fascination, she sits down on the bed beside us and offers some popcorn. “Do you stay at the castle?”
I nod in response to her question and decline the popcorn. With the sickness still twisting my guts, I can’t even begin to think of eating anything. Hopefully, Aunt Midge will have something that can remove the stains.
“To stay in a castle! Like a princess.” Tracey bites her lip, her eyes sparkling all of a sudden. “What’s he like these days? Lucian.”
“These days? As opposed to what?” Kelsey reaches into the proffered bag, grabbing a handful of popcorn.
“As opposed to ten years ago when I hooked up with him.”
What?
I’m guessing she didn’t look quite as aged back then, but the woman is still about thirteen years older than him.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Mrs. Donovan tips her head to get her friends attention. “Tell me you’re kidding. You never told me you hooked up with the Devil of Bonesalt.”
“Devil is right.” Tracey snorts, shoving more popcorn into her mouth.
“C’mon, there are teenagers present.”
Groaning, Kelsey rolls her eyes. “Adults, mother. Tell us what happened, Aunt Trace.” She sits back beside me, crossing her legs like we’re about to hear a riveting tale. “And don’t skip out on the details.”
“Kels.” I shake my head, the news of her hookup only stoking the gurgling sensation in my gut.
“Well, we’re at Tom Garrison’s house for a party, right?”
“Tom Garrison? Tom Garrison?” Hands at her hips, Mrs. Donovan stares down at Tracey like the name is one we’re all supposed to know and loathe, as she apparently does, given the expression of disgust on her face. “Had I known you hung around that crowd, I’d have ended our friendship. The guy was the biggest man-whore I’ve ever known.”
“True. But Lucian and some of his college buddies show up. We’re all drinking, getting high at a bonfire on the beach. Lucian is looking fucking delicious as all get out.” She licks her lips and smiles, sending a sinking feeling through my chest. “Anyway, the guys get this brilliant idea to race bikes. And of course, Lucian wins, despite being drunk as a skunk.”
Memories of two nights ago slip behind my eyes, recalling him standing on the edge of the roof, drunk as a skunk, and what little care he gave for preserving his life. Sounds about right.
“So, being the bike aficionado that I am ...”
“Oh, like hell you are,” Mrs. Donovan interrupts, shoving her hand into the popcorn bag. “You probably asked him all these questions about his bike, and you couldn’t give two shits about riding.”
Tracey’s grin stretches wider. “You’re absolutely right, but I couldn’t pass up the opportunity. I mean, this guy looked like a goddamn rock star. And the way women flirted with him? I just couldn’t stand the idea of not approaching him. So we talk for a few minutes. He decides to give me a ride on his bike after, and before I know it, we’re going about a hundred-thirty on the highway.”
“Tracey! Are you nuts?” Mrs. Donovan slaps her, shaking her head. “You girls better not do something so stupid.”
“It was … fucking awesome.” Tracey giggles and leans forward to dodge another swat from her friend. “He’s apparently a total adrenaline junkie. Gets off on that shit. So, he pulls the bike off to the side of the road, and he is all over me. I mean, an absolute beast. Pulling my hair. Yanking my clothes off. Kissing me like he means it.” The smile on her face withers to a frown. “I’m lying there, damn near buck-ass naked, panting for this guy. Like, just take me already, right?