Page 7 of The Spider & the Storm

I’d never seen a green quite so deep, never known eyes could take on such a hue, and just like that, in that instant, it was my favorite. I knew I’d remember it for the rest of my life. I’d hunger for another glance, and I’d have no choice but to starve.

You’re a fuckin’ creep, Charlie. Look away before she has the chance to see you staring.

Loser.

Pervert.

I hung my head lower and dodged my eyes toward the drink pooling at my feet, but not before I noticed the watching, scrutinizing glare of the tall man standing beside her.

Boyfriend?

Husband?

I wished I could wither away and take back ever wanting to venture outside my wrought iron fence and stone pillars.

“Oh!” the woman exclaimed in a husky, sultry voice. “I’m so sorry!”

I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t will my mouth to form words or my lips to let them spill, too afraid I’d say something stupid and foolish in the presence of a woman more stunning than the full moon above, shining brighter than the streetlamps and taunting with a watchful, imagined grin. I tightened my grip around the bag in my hand and dropped my gaze to the drink.

“I’m sorry,” the woman repeated, digging into the satchel at her hip. “Here, let me pay for it. I can—”

“Don’t worry about it,” I hurried to say, pushing the words past my lips in a forced, exasperated, and agitated tone.

I held the bag firmer, the food growing colder by the second, and before she or any one of her party members could say something else in reply, I rushed past them all, full of regret and an endless string of nitpicking thoughts barreling through my head, along with a very sudden loss of appetite.

Loser.

Freak.

As my unrelenting brain continued to berate me, I threw the bag in a nearby garbage can and walked with clenched fists back to Luke’s bike.

CHAPTER THREE

CONNECTICUT, AGE THIRTEEN

My back was against the wall just outside my parents’ room. Luke was inside with Mom and Dad. The door was closed, but they were all talking loud enough that I could hear.

“You can go, sure,” Dad said. “But you’re taking Charlie with you.”

Luke groaned, and my chest ached at the sound of his disappointment.

He was my best friend; he always would be. But his best friend was Ritchie.

If I was being honest, I wasn’t sure I was Luke’s friend at all.

“Dad, you gotta be kidding, right? He’s …” He huffed out a loud breath, like he couldn’t believe our father could be such an unfair tyrant. “He’s akid.”

Mom sighed, defeated. “I mean, he’s not wrong …”

“He’s thirteen; he’s not achild,” Dad corrected, sounding serious. I could picture the twin lines forming between his brows. “And if you’re doing anything at that party that you can’t do around him, then you shouldn’t be doing it at all.”

I swallowed, my stomach tied up in a thousand knots.

They were talking about Luke’s friend’s birthday party. Rob only lived a couple of blocks away, and he had just turned sixteen. Luke had been on the phone all week, talking to his other buddies about the party with so much excitement andmischief in his tone. I knew the things he liked to do when I wasn't around, and I knew he didn't like to have me around because I prevented him from doing them.

Smoking cigarettes. Drinking beer. Kissing girls.

The knots in my stomach tightened at the idea that he might do more than just all of that, but my mind fought to push those things away.

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