Page 1 of Twisted Fate

PROLOGUE

Delilah

“You look utterlyfuckable in that dress,” my roommate, Dani, crooned from her perch at the end of my bed. “You won’t have any trouble getting laid tonight.”

I rolled my eyes, despite fighting back a smile. It took me a while to get used to Danielle’s bluntness and mouth that rivaled any sailor’s. Living with her the past two years had done the trick. She was my closest friend here at college, and if I could take her back with me to Willow Brook Falls, I would. She’d fit right in with the rest of the crew. Too bad she wasn’t interested in living in small town Virginia. She would most likely head back to Baltimore after we graduated, but I’d make sure we always stayed in touch.

“I just want to go out and have fun. I’m not interested in hooking up with anybody,” I informed her. It had been a few months since I’d broken up with Chad, and I was in no hurry to jump into something else, even if it was just casual.

“You’re not still hung up on preppy boy, are you?” I shot her a glare, and she held up her hands. “I’m just asking. You guys dated for a long time. I thought maybe you still had feelings for him.”

My feelings for Chadwick Townsend–heir to the Townsend fortune and future millionaire–were complicated. I’d once fancied myself in love with him, but realized I’d been blinded by extravagant gifts and lavish trips I never would’ve experienced on my own. No one had ever given me the attention he had. I always seemed to be at the forefront of his mind, and at first, he’d treated me like a queen. But then something shifted. He became overly possessive and incredibly jealous, especially when we were around my friends.

The tipping point came this summer after we had dinner with my friends back in Willow Brook Falls. He accused me of sleeping with one of my oldest friends, Cameron, and grabbed my arm hard enough to leave a mark. He apologized, of course, but the encounter left me unsettled. Still, I gave him another chance and a few weeks later, it happened again. He didn’t put his hands on me that time but caged me in with his arms, my back against the wall and swore that heownedme, and no other man was ever to touch me again.

That was the moment I knew I needed to get out. He would hurt me or someone I loved if we continued on this path. I waited until he was back home and called him to tell him I was ending things. He went ballistic, yelling and screaming that I couldn’t do this to him and that we were soul mates. It got ugly, and we were both crying by the end, but it had to be done.

For weeks he called and texted, begging me to reconsider. I finally blocked his number, and when he resorted to messaging me on social media, I blocked him there too.

“Plus, I think Michaela is sleeping with Byron again and…” Dani prattled on as we walked down the street toward fraternity row. I’d zoned out with the flood of memories about Chad crashing over me.

There were cars lining each side of the street when we rounded the corner, and I was thankful we opted to walk the few blocks instead of taking Dani’s Honda even though we nearly froze our asses off on the way over. Music drifted from the house as we approached, the party already in full swing. We scurried up the sidewalk, eager to get out of the chilly evening air. Several heads turned to us when we stepped inside. Hungry gazes from frat guys followed us as we made our way through the house.

Heading straight for the kitchen, we found Michaela and Chelsea huddled around the island where several bottles of liquor stood next to an array of mixes and two-liter bottles of pop. Each of them held a red plastic cup in their hands. They squealed with delight when they spotted us and did that shuffle-run women did when they wore super high heels.

We hugged, and they handed us each a cup. A guy I didn’t know draped an arm across Michaela’s shoulder, while a second man I recognized from the football team leaned against the counter and pulled Chelsea into his side. We talked to our friends for a while as we sipped our drinks. When our cups were empty, they were quickly refilled, and Dani and I decided to make the rounds.

We managed to score a couple seats in the front room. It was the farthest away from the source of the blaring music, so we were able to hear each other talk. We were laughing with a couple of the fraternity brothers when the door opened, letting in a cool gust of wind along with three guys who looked like they’d gotten lost. The laughter fell from my lips when a familiar blond head popped into the foyer.

Shit. What was he doing here?

This wasn’t his scene. He didn’t “lower” himself by going to frat parties.

“Um, isn’t that your ex?” Dani asked, leaning into me.

“Yep,” I answered and drained the rest of my drink. The trio turned the other way and walked into the opposite side of the house, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Hopefully I could avoid him. It was a big house, and this party was packed. I could totally get by without running into him.

I was so wrong.

After two full cups of whatever concoction my friends made, I needed a restroom. The room swayed ever so slightly as I stood and made my way up the stairs, cautiously gripping the rail so I wouldn’t fall. Once I was finished in the restroom, I washed my hands and checked my reflection in the mirror. After applying a layer of lip gloss, I pushed through the door. Some of the bedroom doors were closed but most were open. There were guys playing a video game in one and a couple making out hot and heavy in another. I giggled as I walked past them and toward the stairway. The steps creaked and groaned as someone ascended, and I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw who it was.

A slow smile curved Chad’s lips. “Delilah,” he crooned, “I didn’t know you would be here.” I got the impression he knew full well I’d be at this party and that was the only reason he was here. He never came to these before, practically turning his nose up at the prospect. That was why I quit going. He made me feel trashy for wanting to hang out with my friends and drink cheap beer like every other college student in the U.S., so I stopped. I only attended cocktail hours at fancy hotels or country clubs while I dated him.

Those days were long over. I was a typical college kid, not his arm candy.

“Didn’t you?” I challenged, crossing my arms.

He paused, deliberating how he should answer. His lips quirked in a charmingly crooked smile–the one that won me over the first time he asked me out–and his signature dimples dented his cheeks as he looked at me from beneath his lashes.

“Honestly?” he asked, and I nodded. “I wasn’t sure you’d be here, but I hoped you’d come. I’ve really missed you.”

I shook my head and opened my mouth to respond, but he held up his hands. “I know I messed up,” he admitted, his expression morphing into one of regret. “I don’t blame you for breaking things off. I came on way too strong, and I kinda lost my head a little bit,” he continued, shaking away the memory. “I was hoping we could at least be friends. I miss having you in my life.”

Unease crawled up my spine, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. He didn’t want my friendship, that I was certain of, but his calm, rational demeanor was setting off warning bells. I needed to get away from him and fast.

I sighed and straightened my shoulders. He wasn’t going to like my answer. “That’s not a good idea. Our relationship became toxic and unhealthy. And judging by the way you acted toward the end, I don’t think you’ll ever settle for being just friends. It’s best if we both just move on.”

Shock washed over his features, but he schooled them quickly, an air of finely honed arrogance sliding over his face. “If that’s what you want,” he offered.

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