Page 4 of The Catalyst

“—Kennedy, O’Reilly, and McGowen. Their families were the first settlers. Their ancestors came straight from Ireland, landed on Ellis Island, and came down from New York. Within a decade after that, everyone else followed. It started as a town of immigrants, but has grown a lot since then.”

That’s very interesting. She didn’t give me a time frame, but since she said ancestors instead of relatives, it must’ve been a while ago—more than fifty years, for sure.

“And all five families live here?” I press as we enter the packed street. All eyes seem to watch us, dissecting each layer of clothes I wear until they reach my blood-filled flesh.

Vultures. That’s what they remind me of. Circling blood-thirsty demons.

“Not the families themselves, but the eldest sons of our generation. You’ll either meet them tonight or you’ll get to meet two of them on Monday and you already met the psycho.”

Monday is my first day at a new school. I’m hoping to slow time down, especially if the vultures still look at me the way they do now.

“I need to get started on my bucket list,” I change the subject with no segue, not caring if it seems awkward.

Her eyes widen. “You have a bucket list?”

“Yeah, my friends and I made it up. I’m usually not so outgoing and I hope it can help redefine me. You know, new year, new me.”

“I love that philosophy. I need a bucket list. I’ll take the plunge with you.”

“You can borrow some of my items,” I tease, but I mean it. I’d love to have someone embarrassing themselves alongside me.

“Perfect!” She cheers, and I watch as redness creeps up her cheeks while her gaze stays locked on the bonfire in the front yard.

“What?” I ask and look over, but it just looks like a sea of people drinking and having the time of their lives.

“Nothing. Just the guy I have the biggest crush on. His name is Ronan Walsh. He lives here, too.”

I don’t mind at all that Judy brought me to a party at the house of the guy she is bananas over, but from what I can tell, she might need my help in the romance department. She is so sociable with me, but I can see this guy makes her flustered.

“Which one is he?” I ask as my eyes scan the bonfire.

“Don’t look!” she hisses, mortified. “He’s the one with the Mudvayne shirt on.”

Why does it make sense that she doesn’t want me to look and yet gives me an identifying detail?

I stretch my arms up and sneak a peek behind my arm, looking for the Mudvayne symbol. If my dad weren’t obsessed with the band, I wouldn’t know what to look for. I find him quickly, but he’s not even looking over here. Why is she so freaked out about him catching us looking? It’s a big party. It’s not like he’ll know we’re talking about him.

Ronan’s looks are rather generic in a hot guy kind of way. Shaggy black hair, tan skin and a pair of eyes that, even though they’re downcast, I can see are blue. They’re so light they could easily be confused with contacts, much like the town psychopath.

“He’s cute,” I say, but my voice trails off when I feel needles pricking the side of my face, a telltale sign that someone is staring at me, but not in the way everyone else has been. This is…different.

I drop my arms and scan the crowd until my fairy green eyes slam into a pair of icy blues that nearly knock me on my ass. It’s like a bungee cord wraps around my waist and he’s trying like hell to drag me over to him.

His looks are similar to Ronan’s, so much so that the average person would think they’re related, but I see the subtle differences, like how Ronan is covered in tattoos and his friend’s skin is absent of any ink. Where Ronan’s hair is long and wavy, his friend’s hair is cut close to the skin on the sides but long in the front, casting a shadow over his handsome face. He doesn’t have one of those “I’m too dumb to exist” types of attractive faces. No, I can see the wisdom and life experience in his eyes.

His gaze holds mine. It’s kryptonite in my blood and my body doesn’t care for the warning signs that this man is bad news. It can only grasp the big dick energy coming off of him in waves and picture all the naughty things he could do to me.

I know lust. It’s all I really had with Shawn.

“Who are you… Oh, that’s—“ Judy snaps me out of my reverie and I break eye contact with that stranger.

“Don’t tell me,” I say, struggling not to look back at the stranger even as I feel his gaze burning holes in my back.

“Why?” Judy stares at me quizzically.

“It’s the first thing I’m knocking off my bucket list.” She still stares at me like she doesn’t understand. “Go to a party, find the hottest guy in attendance, fuck him and leave without getting his name.” I wouldn’t call him the hottest guy, but he’s close enough.

“Wow!” Judy gasps. “You’re a braver woman than I am. I can barely even talk to Ronan without sounding like a fumbling idiot.” She frowns, and my chest tightens.

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