Page 1 of Ward Willing
PROLOGUE
THE MISTAKE
Liam
One Year Ago, Catalina Island
At a quarter to eight, I walk next door and knock on Zoe’s door. When no one answers, I pull the spare room key from my pocket and open her door, but it’s empty.
The scattered liquor bottles overturned on the coffee table catch my eye.
Fuck, fuck, double fuck.
Fucking teenagers.
Grumbling, I stalk over to the table and sweep the bottles into a nearby trash can, and then I pour the rest of her cheap vodka down the drain in the bathroom. When I walk back out, I notice the various items of food lying around—chips, salsa, cookies, brownies…
Without thinking, I snatch one of the brownies and shove it into my mouth, chewing quickly. My phone buzzes, and I remove it from my pocket.
Zoe
at the bar in case youre wondering
The bar? How the fuck is she at the bar when she’s underage? I swear, Zoe is going to give me a heart attack one day.
After doing one last perusal for illegally obtained alcohol, I’m satisfied enough to close the door behind me and make my way down to the bar to reprimand her for not listening to me.
My footsteps echo on the stone floor of the hallway, clicking ominously as I take the stairs. What thehellis Zoe playing at? I’m not sure if it’s a latent rebellion or if it’s a cry for help, but either way her behavior is unacceptable. Or maybe she stopped bothering to hide it from me because I don’t have any say over what she does now that she’s eighteen.
Give an inch, and she’ll take a mile.
Like when I removed her curfew this summer and she stayed out all night.
Or when I gave her money for food last month and she spent it on a tattoo.
She’s rebellious and wild at night despite conducting herself like a saint during the day—especially around other people. She has most fooled.
In fact, she will be starting at Crestwood University next week on a full scholarship.
The frustrating thing is, it’s not like I don’t trust her—I do. She’s proved herself to be more mature than any teenager I’ve ever known. She’s easy to take care of because she hardly needs me. It’s almost like she’s trying to get caught doing things she know she has no business doing…and she’s doing it for a reason.
If it’s an attention thing, I can’t fathom why she needs it frommeof all people.
I scan the room and let my eyes flick over every face to find my ward, and I immediately see Zoe and a random guy doing a row of three tequila shots at the crowded bar.
I don’t fucking think so.
Scowling, I stalk over and glare at the man until he gets the hint and leaves.
“Hey,” she says casually, looking at me through her long lashes as she stands up. Her eyes are glazed as they search my face, and she has a single violet tucked behind her right ear.
“You’re not old enough to drink,” I mutter.
“Too late. Come on, take a shot with me,” she drawls, stumbling slightly as she gestures to the three glasses of clear liquid on the bar.
The anger intensifies as I stare at her. “Are you drunk?” I yell over the noise of the bar.
Her honey brown eyes bore into mine, but she doesn’t give anything away. She’s composed in her obviously drunken state, yet the termbarely holding it togetherruns through my mind. It usually does when it comes to her. I’m not an idiot. I know she’s rebelling for a reason.
