Page 131 of Overcast

She’s hypnotizing, the way her body moves to the music. Her hands cup around her breast, teasing the crowd as she peels back the material to show off her massive breast. The group around her goes wild, getting more people to notice the show.

She appears lost in her actions, making me wonder how she got here. Does she like dancing, or was she in a crappy situation where she was down on her luck?

I can’t judge her, not when I don’t know her story, but I do wish I had her self-esteem. Especially when Emric makes me the most nervous I’ve been my whole life.

I’d rather redo school along with every pop quiz and the driving academy before I’d step within Emric’s path. Just imagining myself here alone and seeing him from afar would set my body on fire and my heart rate on maximum speed.

Not that he’d notice me.

I’d be in the corner, hiding in the shadows to people-watch because that’s where I feel the most comfortable.

“What’s wrong?” My body cringes to the closeness of Emric’s voice in my ear. His minty breath fills my nostrils, and I feel as though my senses shouldn’t be this heightened.

Maybe it’s the fake Shirley Temple that Mills handed me—which is very strong, by the way—or the fact that I’ve been fighting the way my mind argues with my body on how I’m fatally attracted to him.

I stare at a man in the crowd, nothing is special about him other than the fact that he’s my target to keep me from outwardly shuttering and making an idiot out of myself.

I shrug off my nerves. “I’m good.”

“You uncomfortable?” I quickly shake my head. He would be the last person to know that this place is too crowded, too active, too crazy, and too not my scene. “Then why do you look like you want to crawl in the nearest hole and hide until we’re done?”

My nostrils flare, and I straighten my spine to face him.

When I glance up, he’s right there. That Oakland Raiders cap covering most of his features from the absence of light that can’t get to them, but I’ve already memorized each one.

What I can see perfectly are his lips, imagining them again on mine when my life hung in the balance of his hands. That orange bucket that I clung to so I could pull my head out of the cold water he kept shoving me into.

Warm fingers brush the skin where the corners of my lips met. “Where did you run off to in that head of yours?”

My brows furrow a bit, staring at my tormentor with a mixture of rage and forgiveness. I’m not sure where the latter is coming from because I shouldn’t be in that wheelhouse yet.

It’s too soon.

I’m still here with three killers, hanging out with them like this is a normal thing.

It’s not.

I shouldn’t be here. I should be in my room with my broken headphones trying to keep my dad’s friend’s voices out of my head. To make sure that the dresser is securely placed in front of my door and that Hollis...

No.

I don’t want to be there anymore.

If there is one thing that I can’t shake towards Emric is that I’m somewhat grateful. His intentions of hauling me out of my home weren’t honorable, but they were some sort of a blessing in disguise. My father is safe, alive. He won’t be touched by Emric, Bishop, or Mills anymore. Whatever happens to Hollis is up to the boys, and I won’t feel guilty in not caring. As long as he never graces me with his presence again.

“Fucking yes,” Mills beams next to me, snapping my brain to the reality of where I am.

I crane my neck, prying out of Emric’s fingers and find a blonde in a sexy schoolgirl outfit and white pumps that would add a foot to my height. She’s feeding off Mills’ energy, already in his personal space as she bends over to say something in his ear.

The shortness of her skirt displays her butt and black lacy panties underneath. It also exhibits that she’s not as curvy as the girls I’ve seen here, probably having to work harder to make money.

She twirls on her heels, touching her toes to give Mills a full view then proceeds to sit in his lap. When she brushes her hair to the side, our eyes meet, and they both widen in surprise.

“Oh my God,” she exclaims, resting her hand on her chest. “Stormi?”

Ohcrap.

“Hey...” I can’t remember her name right now for the life of me, but we went to high school together. We shared a few classes, ate lunch through mutual friends, but other than that, her and I were acquaintances."

---