Page 15 of Cedarwood Cabin

Marty gives me a thumbs-up and joins the line.

I head to the bathroom to see a long line forming against the wall. I put one foot up against the wall, resting my weight on the other leg. I spot a gap in the crowd and see Lyka leaning against the wall opposite me. He looks at me and grins, his eyes locking onto mine. My heart feels like it just skipped a beat. I never noticed before, but his eyes are a light, almost icy, blue. He holds my gaze, unwavering. I’m frozen, unsure whether to go over there or not. I notice he has a healing cut on his eyebrow, I’m guessing from the bar brawl. I wonder if Dax is here, too?

A woman with jet-black hair and tattoos appears out of nowhere, wrapping her arms around Lyka’s neck. He doesn't respond to her touch; his arms remaining at his sides. His eyes remain locked on me as they kiss and I’m unable to look away. He smirks while continuing to kiss her and stare at me, the woman remaining oblivious.

His eyes never leave mine, even when they break the kiss for a moment. I can tell he is getting some twisted pleasure from this.

Why is he staring at me? What is he trying to prove?

Marty appears in front of me holding two beers. Before I can think it through, I put my arms around his neck and pull him into a kiss. His tongue meets mine as he wraps his arms around my waist, the cold glass of the beer bottles pressing against my back.

I lean my head to the side, standing on my tiptoes. I look over at Lyka who is still watching with a dangerous glint in his eye.

Two can play that game, fucker.

He looks pissed off as he stops kissing the woman. A surge of people moves in front of him, obscuring my view. I push Marty away when reality hits me. He looks down at me, flustered and confused.

Oh my god! What the fuck did I do?! He’s my father's friend!

“Flora…” he begins.

“Marty, that shouldn't have happened. I’m sorry.”

“I think it’s best if we keep this between ourselves,” he suggests.

“Yes. I totally agree,” I say, nodding.

He smiles and bobs his head to the music, trying to lighten the mood.

“Why don’t you go find my father while I wait in line? I still need to use the bathroom.”

“Sure. If I find him, I'll wait for you at the bar,” he replies.

Marty disappears into the crowd and I stand on my tiptoes, looking for Lyka. He’s gone.

The line moves and it’s almost my turn. I can feel the music pounding through the walls, but it doesn’t compare to the beating in my heart. My mind goes crazy with thoughts of what just happened. The kiss with Marty was impulsive; we shouldn’t have done that. But the way Lyka looked at me while kissing another woman was intense.

Was he trying to provoke a reaction from me? I realize I played right into his twisted game.

It’s finally my turn. I close the door behind me and take a deep breath. I speedily use the bathroom and wash my hands, not lingering around as it’s dirty. I hope Marty won't say anything to my father; that will make things awkward.

Navigating through the crowd, I head towards the bar and accidentally bump into someone.

“Oh, shoot. Sorry,” I say

I look up and see Jonny with a bruised eye, his friends standing ominously behind him.

“Hello, Miss British,” Jonny sneers with sarcasm.

I try to walk past him, but one of his friends steps in front of me, trapping me as he blocks my path.

“The Faulkner brothers not with you?” Jonny asks, tracing his finger under my chin. I jerk my face away, glaring at him. He makes my skin crawl.

“I don’t even know them,” I hiss back with defiance.

“Oh, so you’re up for grabs then?” he asks, something flashing in his eyes.

“Fuck you!” I yell.

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