23
Damien
I swallow back the bourbon before I sigh at the thought of watching Nesrin run from me. I fucked up, but I’m not a man who apologizes. I’ve never allowed anyone to believe I’m anything but an asshole.
She ran inside, and even though I haven’t gone up to her bedroom, I know I have to. Apologizing doesn’t come easily to me. But with her, I feel the need to do it anyway.
Making my way up the stairs, I walk down the hall and stop outside her bedroom door. I knock twice and wait. Moments pass, and I knock once more.
“If you don’t open this door, I’ll break it down, Nesrin,” I tell her through the thick wood. I know she can hear me. A couple of minutes pass before I twist the doorknob to find it unlocked. Pushing the door open, I step inside. The room is so tidy, you’d think that nobody lives here.
I move through the room into the bathroom to find it empty. A growl rumbles in my chest, as frustration takes hold of me. She must’ve gone to the party, but what’s got me even more concerned is that I don’t know how she would’ve got there.
Pulling my cell phone from my pocket, I unlock it and scroll down to one of my brother’s names. I know it’s easier to call Cassian because Finn will be off with one of the girls already.
My focus is on getting Cassian to find Nesrin and keep her away from Creed. Hitting dial, I put the device to my ear and listen. The incessant ring only seems to set my body on edge. If he’s drunk, he’ll never hear the fucking thing. My nerves bristle with annoyance. I’m about to hang up when I hear his voice.
“What’s up, bro?”
“Where are you?” I ask Cass.
The background noise breaks through the line, and I hear laughter and girls giggling. A loud guttural shout from one of the partygoers comes from the speakers before I can hear Cassian’s response, “The lake.”
“Is she there?” I wonder if he can hear the concern in my tone, but, right now, I don’t give a shit.
“Yeah, Nesrin and Mali just walked up,” he tells me.
“See you soon,” I hang up before he can say anything more. I race down the hall, leaving her bedroom door open. In a matter of seconds, I’m in the garage and in the driver’s seat of my Camaro, before I have time to rethink the shit that’s about to go down.
The engine roars to life, and I put my foot on the gas. The speakers vibrate with Echos singing about Saints, and I can’t help but chuckle. A saint is far from what I am.
The drive won’t take me long, but it gives me time to think. The town is built on a hill, giving off the illusion of being sunk down in a forest, with the lake at the bottom. Surrounded by thick trees, Thorne Haven has been cited as one of the most haunted towns in America.
The beauty of it is indescribable, with tourists frequenting it every year, while we have our summer months. But by the time winter hits and the snow comes down, we’re locked away from the rest of the country, as if we were on our own island.
Hidden within the trees, we’ve played our games. Toyed with the girls who wanted to take a chance on The Black Knights, but over the years, I’ve seen the destructive behavior it brought about. That’s why I don’t want Nesrin anywhere near them.
If something happens to her, Dad will kill me. Even though I know I shouldn’t play these games with her, show her what they’re like, I can’t deny that my curiosity for this girl has taken the forefront of my thoughts.
My attention has been caught, like a fly in a web. I’m drawn to the tormented girl who has just as many scars as I do. Who would’ve thought a princess from the glittering lights of stardom would be so broken?
Even her name gives away her hidden depths—my wild rose.
When I pull up to the lake, I find almost all the town’s teenagers standing around drinking, smoking, and making out against the tall trees that surround the body of water. This party is going to get out of control, just like every other one we’ve had here for years.
At twenty-seven, I’m used to seeing the newbies puking their guts out after Cassian makes his infamous punch. The blue liquid is nothing more than far too much vodka mixed with some other shit I would rather not know about.
But because it tastes like candy with the syrupy sweet mixers, the kids, who visit from out of town, think they can handle it. The difference between some of the kids here and us is that we grew up drinking this shit, while Daddy Dearest went out to find us a new mother. And each time he brought someone home, we would send her packing not long after.