Stolen Soulmate (Crowne Point 2)

Fireworks popped overhead, sounding a bit too much like my angry, beating heart.

“We haven’t kissed since that day, either,” she said lightly.

“How does your brother know Snitch?” I snarled.

“Who?”

“Uh, my…maid.”

Her eyes followed mine. “Oh…I don’t know. I didn’t know they knew each other.” Her eyes narrowed on mine.

I dropped Lottie’s hands and took a step back onto the dock. “We’ll finish this later. Go get dry. I promise I won’t force it, Lottie.”

“I know…” She moved her mouth like she was trying to suppress more words, then said, “Where are you going?”

“Back to the party.”

“You’re going to go get her, the servant you’re always with, the one you throw punches for.”

I stopped, foot almost on the dock.

I scratched the back of my head.

“You should. My brother’s an asshole.”

She watched me as if she saw something I couldn’t, then turned and walked toward the beach.

I stared a moment after her.

I suddenly couldn’t think. Itchy.

I went to yank her out of West’s hold, but she shoved him off first. Now I was behind Story, only an inch between us, her head just below mine. I felt like her protector. I liked it too much. I itched to hit West for no other reason than the anger coming off her.

“You are all the same,” Snitch’s voice shook. What did this fucker do to make her voice shake? I tightened my fist, the barely scabbed knuckle breaking open.

West caught my eyes, glaring.

Well fucking bring it on. This asshole was the worst kind. The snake-in-the-grass kind. The assholes I hung out with? Total fuckers. But they wore their poison as stripes on their skin for everyone to see. You didn’t kiss those frogs without knowing you were going to die.

Westley du Lac? He hid his poison beneath kind smiles and volunteer duty, while being worse than the rest of us. It was always a mystery how the du Lac family could make someone as sweet and pure as Charlotte, and then a dude like West.

“I’m not worth anything to you unless someone else looks at me first,” Snitch continued. “You’re all speculating on fool’s gold. Gray might be cruel, but you’re poison.”

She spun, then stopped abruptly, almost slamming into me. In the split second she was shocked to see me, I saw all of her. The pain, the tears about to fall. My anger rose and rose.

I was ready to break his nose just for those unshed tears; then he smiled, vicious. Smug. The fuck did he have to be smug about? I fisted and unfisted my hand as West gave me the look like, Let’s fucking do it.

Story quickly swiped her tears away and walked by me.

Fuck.

I went after her.

“Let’s try this again. How do you know West du Lac?” I called to her back.

“Let’s try this again. Why do you care?” she snapped. “Why?”

Our furious footsteps went plunk plunk plunk on the dock. Above us the sky was black, too many blinding lights.