The Peer and the Puppet (When Rivals Play #1) - B.B. Reid Page 0,14
lost hope until my best friend unknowingly gave it back.
Except for this time I was no longer willing to sit back and pray.
Hope was for the weak and the foolish.
I looked around my room seeing only change and nothing of the past. Stepping into my room had once been like looking inside a kaleidoscope. Typical of any teenager, after forging through puberty, I went through phases faster than I could change my underwear. My parents had encouraged me to embrace my ever-changing curiosities, assuring me that it was perfectly normal…until I took it too far. Because of one night that I could never take back, I made a point to surround myself with only what was necessary so that there was no risk of temptation.
Because once I found trouble, it was impossible to stay away. I lived for it and would have probably died for it.
I could recall with vivid clarity the time I came closest to death. It was the summer before my last year of junior high—before everything went to shit. Jamie and Bee—my cousin from Boston and my other best friend—had ditched us to be alone so it was just Vaughn and me—along with some kids from school—watching football tryouts when I boasted that I’d make first cut when the time came. I was a runner and a fast one too. The fastest Brynwood had ever seen. I had considered joining the track and field team, but Vaughn had convinced me to focus my talent elsewhere when he pointed out that the football players got more pussy.
At thirteen it seemed like a pretty fair argument.
Of course, my classmates had their doubts and challenged me to prove my speed. And of all the ways I could have, I chose the most daring. In front of six witnesses, I had claimed I could outrun a train. When I look back, it wasn’t my proudest moment, but it was the memory that always made me feel alive.
My phone chimed bringing me back to the present:
BEE: Meet your new stepsister yet? ;-)
I heard my teeth grinding as I typed.
The hick and I will never share a last name.
The fact that it felt like a lie pissed me off even more. There was no way my father would actually marry the gold digger. Not when my mother was still out there. My parents had been in love, and I knew if I could just get them in the same room together, we could turn back time. Four Archer would be back in the swamp where she belonged, and I’d have my family again.
BEE: She must be pretty…
Knowing Bee was fishing, I closed my eyes to pray for patience. Instead, I pictured big brown eyes, pink lips forever pursed in a defiant pout, golden hair wrangled into a disheveled ponytail, and the most exquisite ass I’d ever come to behold.
NOPE, I texted back.
I tossed my phone on the bed and ignored the answering chime as I headed for the bathroom. After taking a leak and washing my hands, I flipped the lock on Four’s door. I thought I’d just walk away. I really wanted to. But then I realized I wanted to be on the other side even more.
Not giving a shit if she was in her room or not, I yanked open the door and stepped inside. As I looked around, it became clear that whoever had decorated this room didn’t know Four Archer at all. Hell, I’ve only known her for less than a day, but even I knew frills and pastels were not her style. She was bolder without intending to be, and it was because she didn’t give a shit. This room had been decorated for someone who wanted to be handled with kid gloves.
There was a small pile of boxes in the corner that one of the help must have brought up sometime while Four was out looking for the nearest exit. The fact that she was willing to do it on foot told me just how much I’d pissed her off.
I still felt a slight ache in my balls for my trouble. When she fled, I had every intention of running after her and showing her the proper way to handle the family jewels, but that had been out the question. It took me over five minutes just to pick myself up from the goddamn floor. By then the little troublemaker was long gone.
You better believe I looked while picturing my hands wrapped around her pretty throat.