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Chapter 1

BILLIE LUCAS

I’mnotthegirlwho gets nervous about going out with a guy, yet here I am sweating like a pig. It’s been weeks since I’ve been out with anyone. Not that I haven’t tried, but when your reputation takes a nosedive, you become a loner. Thanks to my mother, I’m now standing in front of my mirror, tugging nervously at the tight belly shirt I threw on while worrying what he might think.

He’s from the valley—not my first choice, of course—but the only guy who’s asked me out in what feels like weeks. At this point, I’d accept a date with the middle-aged man who works at the bowling alley. When I say I’ve experienced a dry spell, I literally mean the only person who’s touched me between my legs in the last 49 days has been my own damn hand. Sad, but true.

Running my fingers through my long, curly red hair, I stare at my green eyes in the mirror and blow out a breath. I’m nervous about tonight. And knowing I’m going on a date with some guy from the valley makes things even worse.

How the hell did I go from being one of theitgirls at Reaper to the girl everyone whispers about in the halls? Nobody talks to me anymore—not even Zeke. And Christian is still in juvie with an extended stay approved by his father—or at least that’s what I’ve heard. The only other person who gave a shit about my existence was Holden Van, but he’s happily married and off traveling somewhere with Everlee.

Speaking of Everlee, I can relate to how she felt coming to Reaper as a new student last year. I may not be new—just the opposite, actually—but I’m being treated like an outsider now. I could kill my mother for what she’s put me through. But then again, what she’s put me through is nothing compared to what she put Holden and Tiffany through. I can’t imagine thinking my own mother killed herself for all these years only to find out she had been murdered, and everyone you thought you could trust had lied to you.

My phone buzzes, pulling me from my thoughts and back into what I call reality. I glance down and see it’s a text from the guy I’m going out with tonight. I told him not to come to the door. Actually, I told him to park at the gates and text me when he gets here. If my uncle knew I was going out tonight—with a guy from the valley, of all places—he’d lock me in my room for a month.

My mother might not have been a perfect person, but I miss her terribly. I don’t care that she lied about how Mrs. Van died or that she conspired with Holden’s dad and Lauren’s, because at the end of the day, she’s still my mom, and I miss her so much.

ValleyBoy: At the gates, babe.

Gross. Why do guys call girls babe when they hardly know them? Like, I have a name, asshole. Instead of making him feel like a jackass, I text a quick reply, letting him know I’ll be out in two minutes. It takes about that long to climb down from my second-story bedroom window, anyway. I haven’t had to do this in a long time. When Mom wasn’t in jail, she didn’t seem to care where I went or who I was out with. She trusted me. My uncle clearly doesn’t.

As I grunt and groan, scaling down the side of my stone house while getting scraped up against the rough exterior, I realize how messed up everything has become. Even though I’m allowed to stay in my own house and finish my senior year at Reaper, I’m forced to live here with the biggest asshole on the planet—my mother’s brother. A man who is ruthless, cold, and downright fucking evil, if you ask me.

Actually, if I think about it, he fits right in among the rich and powerful dickwads of Reaper. I suppose this is where they grew up, so I’m not surprised in the least. Mom told me stories about their days as teenagers at Reaper Academy, and they were horrendous compared to what kids are doing these days.

If he knew what I was doing right now, tonight’s vibes would drastically change. I’ve seen his anger before—felt it on my arm when he grabbed me, too. He doesn’t like when you talk back to him.

And that’s exactly why I’m scaling down the side of my fucking house right now. I hate how he’s my legal guardian. I’d rather be shoved into the state’s foster system than live with this prick. But at least I’m still at home and around familiar surroundings.

The dew on the grass soaks my toes, freezing them almost instantly. I guess wearing open-toed heels to sneak across the yard at night wasn’t my best outfit of choice, but it’s too late to change. I’m shivering by the time I make it to this guy’s car. What the hell is his name again?

He drives a black Mazda with red undercarriage lights like he’s some kind of street racer. Christian would beat him; I have no doubt. Most of the guys from the valley try to copy the boys of Reaper, but of course, they can only work with whatever money they have. Christian’s Audi would devour this Mazda and spit it out like it was an insult.

“What’s up beautiful, you ready to go?” he asks with a smirk as I slide into the passenger seat.

My skirt hikes up, exposing more of my thighs than I wanted to on the first date. His wandering eyes make me shift uncomfortably as I tug at the tight material. I guess this is what I get for wearing something slutty—as my mother would say—though she’d never ask me to change.

“Where are we going?” I ask, turning my gaze forward.

“The movies,” he answers as he pulls away from the gate.

I blow out a breath as I glance in the side mirror, watching the Lucas estate disappear into the darkness. Making it out unseen was easy. Getting back in might be more difficult. I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it, though. We drive to the theater in an awkward silence, even though I’m dying to ask him his name again. You might be wondering why I’m going out with a guy I hardly know, right? Like I said, I’m limited on options these days, and I really wanted out of the house and away from my uncle. Sometimes you deal with what you have available, ya know?

The last time I sat in this theater, I was here with my mom. We were watching the latest rom-com everyone said was “unlike all the rest,” but in fact, was just like all the others. But when you think about it, it’s nice to have a story you can rely on.

“Popcorn?” my date asks, tilting the bucket toward me.

Shaking my head, I watch as the guy literally acts like this is the most boring date he’s ever been on. He’s chewing with his mouth open, looking everywhere but at me, and hasn’t tried to engage in any kind of conversation. I’d say this date is a dud!

The lights dim and the enormous screen finally cuts from the ads to the movie previews. At least now I won’t have to deal with listening to this guy’s chomping. But it’s short-lived when he leans over and wraps an arm around my shoulders. Then he goes further and takes my hand, placing it in his lap. Is this guy serious right now?

I know I don’t have the best reputation—having been Holden Van’s booty call for two years—but I’m not a whore. He will never admit it, but it was more than a booty call, at least in the beginning it was. And I’m about to tell this dude I’m not actually a slut when another hand entirely grabs me and pulls me up to my feet. My shriek echoes through the theater when I see Zeke is the one grabbing me.

My date launches out of his seat to stop this, but Zeke turns on him with a look to kill. “Sit the fuck down before I make you fucking sit down,” he hisses through clenched teeth.

I hate how Zeke’s temper has always turned me on. He and Christian are the worst—the biggest fucking assholes on this planet—but also sinfully hot. I’m mad he’s interrupting my date, no matter how big of a perv my date is actually turning out to be. He has no right to be here!

And I tell him as much when we reach the lobby and I yank my arm from his grip. “Who the hell do you think you are, Zeke? I’m on a date!”

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