Page 46 of Hers To Keep

His expression instantly changes, a wide grin taking the place of his angry scowl. “Are you ready for this?” he says, wrapping his arms around me, his hands sliding down to grip my ass. His hands fist the bottom of my skirt as his face contorts, his eyes roaming over my outfit. He steps back, releasing me as he takes it all in. “What the hell are you wearing?” he asks, slightly amused.

“Your gift,” I say, turning around, showing off my ensemble. “Do you like it?” I ask coyly.

“As long as it’s just for my eyes.”

I move toward him, standing on my tippy toes to whisper in his ear. “The outfit, no, but what’s underneath will be tonight.”

“Fuck,” he moans into my neck as he wraps his arms around my waist. “Let’s get this night started.”

By definition, the word “torment” signifies a severe physical or mental suffering. Seems fitting given everything currently going on in my life, that I find myself in a place with that given name, but as we walk through the golden gates of the most infamous nightclub in the state, nothing resembles that in the slightest.

The walls are metallic, the ceiling black with glimmering, iridescent star lights, and all around the room, golden drapes spun across to represent the dazzling rays of the brightest star.

“Holy shit, tonight is going to be a hell of a night,” Jade says, grinning wider than I’ve seen since we’ve arrived in Hillcrest Hills.

“Oh no, we’re getting drunk again, aren’t we?” Stella asks, her eyes wide as she turns to me, the four of us walking over to the VIP area on the second level of the nightclub.

“That’s the plan, Little Silver!” Ace shouts out, his voice subdued by the blaring volume of the music vibrating through the room. All around us over-privileged teenagers dance, drink, and do God knows what else, without a care in the world. Without implications, without consequences. Living life to the fullest, carefree, and extravagantly. No villains who dare harm them, no devils sent to torment them, no worries whatsoever beyond the simple fact of getting drunk, getting laid, and staying rich.

Not like the rest of us mediocre folk, and that’s putting it nicely.

We come to these events, join in on the festivities with our peers, only to forget the reality of how we live. The reality that is our pathetic lives. We come to play rich kids for the night, act carelessly and without consequence, live life without a care for those around us.

Live a dream, before waking up and reliving our most terrifying nightmare.

Reality.

I know it’s wrong of me to label these kids and judge them solely for being wealthy and not having to struggle or work hard for what comes so easily to them, for what they were born with. Still, I find it hard to believe that living a life like this is a hardship. But as we arrive at the VIP area to find the other three guys waiting with their permanent scowls, daunting glares, and paranoid glances, they’re a testament of money and power not being all it’s cracked up to be.

These boys are lost, haunted, and secretly terrified of the world they live in, but they’re blinded by its wealth and the pretense of power they hold. Power is the most dangerous of highs. It tricks you into believing there’s more to life than what you have, and that having it all is what’s most important. It makes you crave more, and the more you have, the less human you become. The vice devours you from the inside out and you lose all sense of morals, consumed by greed and gluttony. Tormented by envy and wrath toward those who have more than you.

In the end, one question remains…who has it worse?

Is it those of us who live knowing what to expect and dread what’s coming?We become pessimists, who assume the worst, never to be disappointed.Or is it the ones blinded by all they have, only to suffer the loss of all that makes them human, of what really matters?

Ace and I walk hand in hand, the scheming glares of those around us, searing me as we walk past them. The disgust in their eyes, the envy in their gazes. They hate that we’re together not only because they wish they were in my position, but because of what I represent–dirt, trash, the filth that sits at the bottom of the barrel.

How is it that someone like me, gets everything that is he?

If they only knew.

Chapter

Twenty-Seven

SCARLETT

“Shots, shots, shots!”

Shot after shot, drink after drink. Two-hundred-dollar bottle of champagne after two-hundred-bottle of champagne. One to drink, one to spray. The opulence of being able to shower in a bottle of Dom Perignon Champagne is on another level.

Jade and Ruby are dancing on the table in front of us, Jax and Drake off sulking in the corner smoking a joint. Stella and some other girl I don’t recognize, are practically grinding against Kai as they drunkenly dance. Kai’s fucking high, his red hooded eyes giving him away, although Stella has had more than her fair share of drinks tonight, I can still see the unease in her eyes. Her crush seems to intensify daily while his demeanor has shifted from harmless flirt to serial man whore.

Bass would surely burst a blood vessel if he saw the way Kai’s hands roamed Stella’s body, her ass rubbing against his groin, but his eyes remain glued to Jade’s tantalizing dance to the beat ofBritney Spears Toxic for what feels like hours. He’s sitting back against the couch, his arms at his sides, his legs spread wide open, a drunken, lustful haze covering his eyes as he watches her intently. Alek and Beck sit on his right and left sides both watching her as well. Like hungry animals on the prowl.

Ace wraps his arms around my stomach, his feverish hands lying flat against the exposed flesh. The temperature here instantly rises to what I imagine the temperature in hell runs at, so my jacket has come off, our bodies now glistening with sweat.

“It’s almost time, baby,” he whispers against my temple, our bodies slowly moving to the beat of the music vibrating through us. My body sways with his, my mind losing itself in the feel of his warmth on me.How can someone who’s caused me so much pain, also be the only one who can soothe the ache inside me?It’s some sadistic shit to feel so much pleasure and pain simultaneously. My head falls back against his chest, as I close my eyes inhaling the irresistible scent of him. Musk, sweat, and something entirely him. It’s intoxicating. His fingers trace circles around my navel, slowly moving lower, and lower down my waist, past my hips, reaching under my skirt and gripping my ass. “You want to come here for me, with everyone watching as you come apart on my fingers. Does that turn you on, baby?” he growls harshly in my ear as his hand moves to squeeze my inner thigh roughly.

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