Page 120 of Dare To Break

“Don’t we?” I could make a good guess. The dares had excited her, made her feel alive she said, when her parents forgot she existed. Someone had fed into that, enticed her to play.

Like you’re doing with Arabella.

I squashed the whisper in my head. It’s not the same. I didn’t want to kill Arabella, just … touch her, taste her, hear her moan.

I groan and sink to my knees so I can rest my head against the cool marble. Somewhere along the way I’ve forgotten why I started this shit. I can’t get rid of the thought that she’s not the person I’ve painted her to be, that she’s not her mother. But then she goes and does something that makes me question what I’m seeing, what I’m feeling.

Like that fucking outfit she bought. That Jace bought, I correct myself. She could have paid for it herself, but she didn’t. She let him do it, and then kissed him.

“Why are you growling?” Kellan’s words splinter the silence, and I roll my head sideways to peer at him.

“What?”

“You’re growling. It’s interesting. I’ve never heard you make that noise before.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m not the one making weird noises.”

I shake my head and push to my feet. “Ready to go back?”

“Can you drive?”

“Zoey had most of the bottle. I’m good.” I stroke over the stone once more. “Miss you, ZoZo. Hope you’re having a party up there.” I stoop and press a kiss to the cold marble. Kellan repeats the action on the opposite side.

“Love you, Zoobles,” he whispers.

It’s hard to walk away, to leave her there. It’s like someone is squeezing my heart in a vice-like grip. It aches, hurts. I close my eyes and suck in a breath, then lift my lids.

“Okay, let’s get the fuck out of here.”

Chapter 77

Arabella

Tugging down the skirt of my angel outfit, I send an anxious glance toward my roommate. “Did you really have to put me in pigtails?”

“It goes with the whole innocent look,” Lacy assures me, still checking her makeup in the small compact mirror in her hand. The bodice of her red dress plunges low between her breasts, and the skirt is so high it should be illegal. It’s taken her all day to get ready, from taking a leisurely bath to doing her hair and perfect makeup.

“You’re just nervous. This is the party of the year. The next one isn’t until Christmas … if we have one. Once we get there, you’ll relax.” Snapping the mirror shut, she gives me a smile, showing off her pretend fangs. “And don’t chew your lip, or you’ll smudge your lipstick.”

I resist the urge to sink my teeth into my bottom lip. “I just think it’s a little too much.”

“I let you wear ballet flats instead of the white heels I was going to let you borrow,” she reminds me. “You got your own way with that.”

And she’d only conceded on those because I couldn’t walk in them. I don’t wear heels. The one time I tried on a pair of Elena’s, I twisted my ankle.

Lacy moves toward the door. “Brad and the others should be waiting for us by now. We can make our fashionable entrance.”

I retrieve the little bag that matches my outfit, and trail after her. A few other students are hurrying out of their rooms, ready to party.

I tug at my skirt again and try not to think about how much thigh it’s showing.

Why did I ever let her talk me into getting this costume?

“Stop fidgeting,” Lacy scolds as we exit the building. “You need to start owning who you are.”

Cool air rushes over me in a ripple of goosebumps. “I’m not used to wearing something like this. It shows way more than the cheerleading uniform, and I’ve never worn a thong before.”

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