Page 1 of Insatiable

PROLOGUE

KADE

SIX YEARS AGO

Ifucking hate people.

Especially parties.

It might be my fifteenth, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to participate in the celebration like my twin sister keeps insisting. I don’t like the attention or being around groups in general.

Mum told me we could have a joint party; we’ve been doing it this way for years. But fuck that – I hate it. And if I hear the song “Single Ladies” one more time, I will lose my shit. Most of the people here are fourteen still and have a crush on anime characters, for fuck’s sake.

I had to escape to my room like I always do.

Locking my room door is mandatory, because sack having any of them tell my mum I’m smoking out on my balcony. Ewan, my stepfather, caught me last week while having a draw in the pool house and said if I did it again, he’d tell her.

No one wants that woman yelling at them, scary bastard that she is.

I like my privacy, my own space where I’m unbothered. I have my key jammed in the hole, the latch on and a chair against the door. No chances of anyone ruining my peace.

I’d rather fill my lungs with smoke.

It makes me feel weird, to be honest. People might think it’s great to be the centre of attention when they walk into a room, but I can’t stand it. I’d rather be invisible. I’d rather no one knew who I was, or my family history, or do everything they can to talk to me.

They don’t want to know who I am, not really.

You’d think living in one of the largest manors in the west of Scotland, they’d struggle to find my room, my wing, but unfortunately, they have, and if one more person knocks my door, I’ll put a cig out in their eye.

I should go to the party before Mum or Ewan can bang on the door and give me shit, but I can’t seem to move from the balcony.

Because I’m preoccupied.

She has no idea I’m watching her.

Away from the rest, away from the party, a girl with long dark hair, wearing a little black dress, sits on the edge of the pool with her feet in the water.

Something about her intrigues me, so I keep my eyes on her.

I like to watch people from afar. I’ll study the way they act, their facial expressions and body language in certain situations, the tones of their voices. I intentionally make people uncomfortable just to see their reactions. My teachers are forever complaining to my parents.

Mum tells me to stop it, but it’s a great way to pass time and try to understand things that don’t come naturally to me.

I tilt my head to the side and stare at the girl with intense fascination.

Why is she not at the party? And who the fuck is she? I’ve never seen her before.

I can’t stop looking at her – I don’t want to stop – unable to tear my gaze away as she stares at the starry sky. She must be cold, surely. September is nothing short of fucking Baltic.

Maybe I should take her down my hoodie and…

What? Shut the fuck up,Kade.

I stub out my smoke then toss it into the ashtray hidden under my balcony ledge, keeping my eyes on the mystery girl while I shove on my trainers.

Mum will come for me at any moment for the birthday cake. I waft the smell of cigarettes from my room and cover it up with air freshener.

My phone dings in my pocket, and I quickly pull it out while I brush my teeth. The group chat I have with my two best friends pops up. Dez is pissed he isn’t here. And Base asks if I want to go to a real party followed by Russian words I don’t understand.

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