Page 5 of Bought and Broken

I only notice the car is still here when I hear Summer’s voice.

“I’m good, Summer. I’ll call you tomorrow,” I say harshly. She’s only trying to help, but I’m too mad to be nice.

She nods and a moment later, they back up until they pull into a driveway to turn around.

“Had I known you were coming, I would have watched out for you,” Dane says, his tone softening.

“I don’t need you babysitting me!” I shout.

I don’t call out the fact he’s lying, because that’s pointless. There is no way Dane would willingly let me go to a party. He hasn’t done that since Tate and I were dating. Even then, I could tell he didn’t want me there. But of course, he let it slide for precious Tate.

“Clearly, I do. You were taking off with a bunch of dumb jocks.” He gestures down the road.

“You don’t even know them,” I argue.

Dane shakes his head, scrubbing a hand down his face. “Just get in the car so we can go home,” he says, this time sounding disappointed.

Knowing I have no other option, I stomp my foot as I let out a frustrated growl. And as I walk by, I glare at Tatum, who is smirking ever so slightly.

“You’re going to regret this,” I hiss at him.

His grin only grows.

Chapter Two

Tatum

Twenty years old…

“More shots, more shots, more shots!”

To be young, wild, and free is a lovely thing.

Everyone at the party keeps breaking out into different chants for no reason I can figure out. Right now, they’re yelling about more shots. A few minutes ago, they were shouting, Hippie Steve.

Alcohol is spread out along multiple tables, all so crowded I can no longer see them. Though I can see the guy standing on top of one with a bottle of alcohol—looks like whiskey—pouring it into waiting people’s open mouths.

It’s a good thing I know where the secret stash is, because no way in hell would I get through that crowd for a drink. It’s a perk of fucking the girl whose parents own the house. Or fucked, I guess, since it won’t be happening again. My drink is full, though, so I go in search of Dane.

I find him sitting on the edge of the in-ground pool, his feet in the water and a beer in his hand. He’s so low key sometimes, it’s weird. He’s like two different people in the same body. Sometimes he’s chill like this, other times he’s climbing through the sunroof of a limo while we’re speeding down the highway while some girl he picked up at a party sucks him off. You never know what you’re going to get with him.

“Beer?” I question, stopping beside him.

He raises it up for cheers, smirking. I tap my plastic cup against his bottle and take a mouthful of gin and tonic.

“Where’s your girl?” he asks.

“She’s not my girl.” He likes to tease me about the girl of the week. Because that’s what they are. No less, no more. One week is all they get. “Where’s yours?”

“I’d know if I could remember who she is.” He chuckles.

I’m about to step away when I see a flash of honey colored hair moving across the lawn on the other side of the pool. I follow it, knowing who it is even before I see her face. My eyes are drawn to her like a damn magnet. Knowing she’s here angers me beyond comprehension. The fact she can’t listen and stay home says a lot about her character. She’s unpredictable and a liar. Two things I absolutely loathe.

The fact she’s smiling and laughing with her friend only angers me further. I ignore the fact she’s wearing jeans so tight and short I can nearly make out the lines of her pussy lips.

She’s so carefree, so fine with everything that happened… not a care in the world of what she did to me.

“Did you know your sister is here?” I ask through clenched teeth.

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