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Treacherous: Twisted Youth #1 by Chloe Walsh (3)


Present Day

Teagan

My next-door neighbor was certifiably evil – I was sure of it.

When I first arrived here at the beginning of the summer she snubbed me and ignored every one of my salutes and 'good mornings', looking through me like I was invisible.

That would have been fine by me if it had stayed that way, but it hadn’t…

Something changed and I had no idea what that something was, but in the space of a week her attitude towards me switched from being cool and uninterested to malicious and downright hostile.

In the beginning I forced myself to believe I was imagining her hostility – I mean, she didn’t know me, and I'd done nothing to perturb the girl. But the morning she wound her car window down as she reversed out of her driveway and verbally attacked me I had very quickly realized it was personal.

Three months later – and with a whole bunch of verbal sparring sessions under our belts – it was clear that Ellie Dennis and I would never be friends.

Aside from the fact that she'd told me, on more than one occasion what she thought of me, the girl seemed to deliberately go out of her way to cause trouble for me.

If she wasn't camped outside my driveway, armed with her group of brainless friends, idiot of a boyfriend and cartons of eggs, then she was cranking her stereo in the middle of the night or spreading very nasty – very unoriginal – rumors about me.

Ellie and her little gang of followers had decided to make my life a living hell for reasons unknown to me.

Thanks again for the fabulous relocation, Uncle Max…

Because of my so-called guardian – and I used that term lightly – we were the latest family to take up residency in Thirteenth Street, University Hill, Boulder, Colorado, and I was the sole target of the bitch over the fence.

And because of my wonderfully unconventional uncle, I was starting sixth year – senior year – tomorrow morning, in a brand new school, with no clue of the curriculum and a serious issue with driving on the right side of the road.

It really sucked because I had a hard enough time fitting in back home in Ireland, so what hope had I in America – with bears and earthquakes and heat waves, spiders, snakes and tornados?

The worst I'd seen in Ireland was a daddy-long-legs and a bit of rain. I didn't do Fahrenheit, I was a Celsius girl, and anything over sixteen degrees was too much for me.

Considering the abuse I'd endured since my arrival on Coloradan soil, I was more than a little disgruntled with Max and the fact that he hadn't taken my opinion into account when making a decision that I don't know...oh… kind of affected my life as well as his.

We'd always been more like roommates than uncle and niece, and up until three and half months ago our living arrangement had been unfolding beautifully. That was until the night Max sat me down to discuss the position he'd been offered as head of the E.R in St. Luke's Hospital, back in his and mom's hometown.

It hadn't been as much of a discussion as it had been a statement. It was happening, we were moving to America, and that was that.

The conversation, and our relationship, pretty much went downhill the second the words 'you have to come with me, Teagan. I need to take the position. You don't have a choice' came out of his mouth.

After a tedious and lengthy heated debate, Max had used his get out of jail card, the 'I uprooted my whole life for you when you needed me and it's only fair to return to favor' guilt trip ensured to make me succumb to almost any demand.

I'd given in with only two prerequisites; someplace quiet to live so I could concentrate on my final year of school, and the absolute guarantee that I could return to Ireland for University next year.

Staying true to his word, Uncle Max leased us this gorgeous two-story situated in the suburbs and surrounded by a well-tended garden, and with a view of the Rocky Mountains that was, in my humble opinion, to die for.

At first the neighborhood had seemed quiet compared to what I had envisioned, and I had thought – in my vast naivety – that I would get along with the other neighbors, or at the very least blend in.

Well, today was day ninety-nine of operation-blend-in-with-the-locals and the shit had officially hit the fan…

It was only five in the evening and I'd already been subjected to no less than three verbal attacks from Ellie, a record breaking one-minute long evil glare from her fat father, and of course my daily treat of having our trash tipped out all over our driveway.

Of course the nasty pranks and attacks from the girl next-door neighbor didn't bother Uncle Max since he was always at the hospital – and I was the one who cleaned everything up – but I wished he would spend more time at home with me. I was lonely and it was really shit having to face this crap on my own every day – especially now the stakes had been raised.

The fact that I'd managed to piss Ellie off by simply breathing seemed inconsequential, heck the Carter brothers living across the street who were so loud at night I could hear them from my bedroom – all the way across the street – were a litter of fuzzy little kittens in comparison to my latest problem…

Noah Messina, Ellie's step-brother, had decided to join her torment-the-new-girl-until-she-cracks mission.

There was both a plus and negative side to this latest development.

On the plus side, at least I'd actually done something to deserve Noah's wrath.

There had been a fight in their driveway last weekend – between Noah and some other tattooed douchebag – that had progressed into our yard, resulting in the windshield of my car being smashed when Noah pummeled his opponent through it.

Thinking back now I had to admit that I sort of overreacted when I stalked outside in nothing but a Coldplay t-shirt and a black thong and tossed an entire can of white gloss paint over the hood of Noah's black Lexus in retaliation. I guess it had felt damn good to fight back instead of letting them walk all over me…

On the negative side, Noah hadn't given me any trouble before that night. He had barely inclined his beautiful head in my direction – with the exception of that one evening back when I first moved in where Noah and I had this weird staring moment – but destroying his car with paint was like waving a red rag in front of a bull.

He had lost it.

Right there in my driveway, with his t-shirt ripped from his body and blood dripping from his eyebrow, Noah Messina had thrown the biggest man-tantrum I'd ever seen before declaring war on me.

Of course, in true Teagan fashion, I'd goaded him to within an inch of my life.

Right there in my driveway, in my underwear, in front of all the neighbors, I'd gone head to head with the tattooed muscle-head next-door and it had been one of the most terrifyingly exciting moments of my life.

He called me a stupid bitch and I had responded by bitch-slapping his face and calling him a horse's ass.

Noah had then backed me up against the door of my car – and had even gone as far as pressing his forehead against mine – using his powerful body to cage me in, and I had done absolutely nothing to diffuse the situation.

I'd pressed against him, both our chests heaving, and dared him to go further, showing nothing but defiance even though I knew he could squish me in two if he felt inclined.

He had been truly livid, his dark eyes full of dangerous heat, as he stared down at me in obvious frustration.

But as mad as he'd been, I still doubted Noah would've physically hurt me, but I never got to find out because Mr. Carter, the unbelievably hot D.I.L.F from across the street, had raced over and separated us.

Some idiot from the circle of boys who'd been watching the earlier fight misconstrued Mr. Carter's intervention as an attack on Noah and everything had pretty much gone to shit after that and a street fight of epic proportions broke out.

After head-butting the douchebag who'd tried to attack him, Mr. Carter had then grabbed Noah by the back of his neck and dragged him away from me, before picking me up and carrying me back to his house – yes, I used the word carried.

It wouldn't have been so bad, but the fact that I'd been partially exposed kind of killed my buzz when he dropped me onto a huge leather couch and I was faced with three Mr. Carter look-a-likes, all equally gorgeous, all with a full view of my crotch.

To make a long story short, the cops were called and Noah and I were both asked if we wanted to press charges on each other. Noah said no and that we'd settle it between us, and I, being terrified of uniformed policemen, had earnestly agreed with him.

We then each received a caution and were advised to keep our distance from one another.

All three Carter boys, their father, and their bald uncle, had then proceeded to walk me home – all the way across the street – while I tried to discourage one of the boy's – I think his name was Cameron – from setting up camp in my living room.

The only good thing that had come from the whole ordeal was the fact that I'd shown Ellie and Noah that I wasn't going to lie down and let them walk all over me. Screw them. Neither of them had to like me. They didn't even have to speak to me. They just had to fuck off and leave me alone.

I only had ten months left in this place and I'd already managed to survive three months of Ellie's bullying. I could do this.

Yeah…

I could manage ten months in a brand new school, in a different country, on another continent.

Martin was the only thing I took solace in and because it was a beautiful day I decided to go outside and play with him.

Grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, I strolled outside and sat cross-legged in the shade. With Martin resting on my thigh I began to play.

I should probably state for the record that Martin is made of rosewood and accompanied by six strings. Owned and given to me by my mother a month before she died, my guitar – who I'd aptly named Martin after its maker Martin & Co. – was my pride and joy. I would never be the world's greatest guitarist, but I was decent and held a note which kept my bank balance healthy whenever I busked.

Clasping my capo on the third fret, I closed my eyes and allowed my fingers to glide over the strings as I played note after intricate note, finger plucking my way through my own version of Eva Cassidy's Songbird.

I was almost finished, belting out the chorus, when a blast of icy cold water hit me full force on the chest, spilling onto my fourteen hundred euro guitar and boiling the blood in my veins.

I sat on the grass completely dumbfounded for a moment before jerking to my feet and glowering at the perpetrator over the wall with the garden hose pointed at my chest.

My spine stiffened at the sight of Satin-in-a-bikini and my hackles rose.

There was no denying that Ellie Dennis was gorgeous – could've been Kelly Brook's twin in the curves stakes – with long locks of raven colored hair and exotic green eyes, but then again there was no denying the fact that she was bat-shit crazy.

I wasn't an argumentative person as a rule, but I wasn't a pushover either. If Ellie wanted to spar with me, I wasn't backing down.

"What the hell is your problem?" I demanded as my temper bubbled dangerously close to the edge. "You've been a walking hormone since I moved in."

"You are," she said in a bored tone of voice as she placed one hand on her bare hip, and held an impressive looking iPad in the other. "I don't like you."

"You don't even know me," I shot back in annoyance. "Don't you think you're being a tad judgmental?"

"I don't need to know you in order to make an accurate judgment," she sneered, narrowing her green eyes at me as she leered at me from her side of the wall "FYI, you're not in the middle of a swamp anymore, Irish. You have neighbors now, so keep the damn noise down."

"Swamp." I rolled my eyes at her. "It's called a bog." Smiling sweetly I added, "And as far as neighbors go I'm astounded by your hospitality." I inclined my head slightly. "When should I expect the welcoming basket of muffins?"

"Don't push me," she warned as she pointed the hose at Martin. "You really don't want me as your enemy."

I thought you already were…"Why don't you go and point your hose at something else."

"Or what?" she countered in a spiteful tone of voice.

Or what? "Do you think you're the only person with access to running water?"

I laughed in surprise when her brows furrowed. Ha. "You did?" Oh this was priceless. I was living next door to Barbie.

Reaching down, I grabbed my bottle of water and unscrewed the lid. "You want a war, Dennis, you've got one."

With that I leaned over the chest-high wall and tossed the contents over her head, cackling evilly when she screamed and tried to protect her hair with her iPad.

"You're so dead," she spat as she brushed her hair back from her face. If looks could kill I would be dead. "Your card is marked, Irish," she spat. "You're done around here."

"Oh no," I crooned sarcastically. "Like me. Please like me. Your opinion means everything to me."

"It should," she screamed. "Do you know who I am?" Her lip curled up cruelly. "You're so finished in school tomorrow." She smiled darkly. "I am going to ruin you."

"I think you should rephrase the question to do I care." I smiled. "I think you already know the answer to that, but in case you've had too much sun and can't think straight I'll answer you anyway. No. No, I don't care who you are. I've taken your measure and it's pretty clear to me that you're a bitch." Probably the popular girl. The queen bitch. Be quiet, Teagan. Shh. Don't go any further. "And stupid." She's right, I'm finished. "And ugly." There. I'd done it. I'd ruined my social status from here on out.

"I hate you, Teagan Jones," she snarled. "You're toast."

I snorted as I stared at the brunette over the fence. "I'm toast? I have sun cream on, love, not butter, you're the one baking out here." I was probably as red as a lobster, but I refused to back down from this bully. "And my name is Connolly," I added, annoyed that she called me by my uncle's surname. "Not Jones..."

"Where's my iPad, Ellie?" a deep, throaty voice called out.

Arching my neck, I shaded my eyes from the sun with one hand as I locked eyes on the owner of the voice. I immediately felt like weeping.

Mr. Tall, dark and hated-my-guts stalked towards Ellie looking mighty fine in his navy swimming trunks and I felt my skin heat instantly.

As much of a bastard as Noah Messina was, he was still able to tick all of the man-preference-boxes I never knew I had…

Messy black hair sticking out in all the right directions? Check. Thick, sooty lashes framing eyes as dark as charcoal? Got 'em. A toned, tanned body that could make you come without foreplay? Yup.

Usually I was turned off by tattoos, but Noah? He wore his tags like a boss.

Both of his arms were covered in sleeves of intricately designed swivels and loops, and he had this really sexy tattoo of a wolf on his left calf.

"Yeah, it's right here, Noah." Ellie's eyes lit up as she spoke, her voice became husky, and her whole focus became locked on Noah.

Hang on a sec, weren't they brother and sister – at least by law?

Ellie didn't look at him like a sister should. She was looking at him like a predator would its prey.

Hell, even I was looking at him like a predator would its prey.

God, it was such a pity they were related. That really sucked. Poison spread in families. But damn he was nice to look at. It was such a shame we hated each other's guts, it kinda meant he was off-limits to me – even my imagination.

He's off-limits to you whether you hate him or not, idiot. You're in relationship-rebound mode. Remember Liam?

Thoughts of my ex-boyfriend speared through me, bringing with them all kinds of confusing feelings and emotions.

Shaking my head, I pushed those feelings to the pit of my stomach.

I suppose I could sit and cry over a boy who broke up with me because of my whole leaving the country issue, and I suppose I could curl up like a wounded animal and make keening noises if I thought about the fact that I put his penis in my mouth about thirty minutes before he gave me my marching orders, but what would be the point in that?

The only person I'd be hurting would be myself. Liam would still be in Ireland, living it up with all of our friends, with my oral-virginity notched on his bedpost, and I would still be here in Colorado, being depressed as well as fighting with the neighbors.

Fuck that.

I was only young once. I'd hash it out with my conscience later. Meanwhile, I had eyes and I liked to look at pretty things. Noah was an asshole, but he was a very pretty one, hence the looking part.

"Although it's probably broken," Ellie added, shooting a meaningful glare in my direction, bringing me back to the here and now. "You can forward the bill to Teagan Jones." She purposefully – and wrongfully – said my name like she was naming a horrifically contagious disease. "She's the one who poured water all over it."

My eyes narrowed in outrage. She had some nerve. "You can shove your bill up the highest part of your h…"

"You broke it, bitch," Ellie shot back, waving the piece of technology around like it was a flag.

"No, you broke it," I shot back. "When you were drooling all over your brother..."

"That's enough." The warning tone in Noah's voice broke through my thoughts, cutting me off mid-rant and I couldn't stop my eyes from wandering all over his body, drinking him in – every square inch of his body.

His jaw was rough, with a day or so worth of stubble etched across it, and his body was bronzed from the heat of the sun.

No sun tan lotion for him, my mind tossed out and I was suddenly very aware of the pallor of my skin.

Feeling a smidgen of self-consciousness for the first time since my flight landed, I did a mental recap of my current state of appearance – you know, for adolescent-hormonal purposes.

My black Rory Gallagher t-shirt clung to my body like a second skin because of the idiot next-door and her hose pipe. Oh, and the messy-bun I'd teased my overly-long blonde hair into this morning? Well, let's just say the term 'messy-bun' was a kinder way of saying a fuzzy ball of knots.

The flimsy pair of white GAA – Gaelic football – shorts I had on were soaked right through, revealing my gloriously hideous pink granny knickers for the world – and the very hot guy next-door – to see, and to finish the stylish ensemble I was wearing off, the knock-off Uggs Liam had brought me back from his family holiday to Turkey last summer were drenched right through – my toes were currently burrowing squishy mole holes through the furry insoles.

"Causing trouble again?" Noah drawled in a derisive tone. His gaze roamed over my body lazily before returning to my face, and it suddenly dawned on me; Christina Aguilera had been right all along…big brown eyes could hypnotize. "Nice shorts."

"I'm on my side of the fence." Sliding my guitar in front of my body to protect – what was left of – my dignity, I raised my brow at him. "And nice lineage," I added sarcastically.

"So, you play the guitar?" Noah asked me with a smirk.

"No." I stared blankly at him. "No, I just like to hold it and look pretty."

Noah's brow rose in surprise. "And how's that working for you?"

"Fantastic," I said through clenched teeth, annoyed at the way he mocked me with his eyes. I knew that sounded stupid, but it was true. He was laughing at me with his eyes. "As you can see business is booming."

"You know, I came outside because I thought I heard an injured animal in pain," Ellie told him as she eyed my guitar. "But it was her. She's the headache we've been hearing all summer."

How the hell did she …hang on, did she just call me a headache? That bitch…

My eyes locked on Ellie's smug face and my fingers twitched with the urge to scratch her stupid eyes out. She glared evilly back at me and the tiny hairs on my arms shot up.

"You're seriously pushing me," I warned her. "Keep going and we're gonna have a problem."

"We…" Ellie gestured between herself and Noah before sneering at me. "Already have a problem. You." She folded her arms across her chest. "So why don’t you do us all a favor and go back where you came from."

I didn’t get it.

I seriously didn’t freaking get it.

I'd done nothing to this girl to make her hate me so much. It was as if Ellie had taken one look at me and decided she hated me.

A part of me wanted to know why, but I wasn’t about to verbalize my thoughts on the matter and look weak and whiny. Instead I glared straight back at her, not giving an inch. "Wow," I mused. "You're friendly."

Ellie's eyes narrowed. "And you're…"

"Didn't your mom get you guitar lessons as a child?" Noah asked in a sardonic tone, interrupting his step-sister's retort. He smirked. "Could've saved me from investing in a pair of earplugs."

"Didn't your mom give you a coloring book as a child?" I shot back in an equally mocking tone. "Could've saved yourself a whole pile of money." Shrugging nonchalantly I added. "You know, from having to pay sweaty, butch men to draw all over your body with needles."

"Teagan," he scolded, shaking his head condescendingly. "I never would've put you down for a sexist."

His words threw me – threw me and caused my toes to curl. "I'm not," I said slowly, knowing I was walking myself into a verbal trap but couldn't figure out how.

"I pay a very talented, very sexy, not-in-the-slightest-butch redhead to draw on my body with needles." I reddened and Noah's smile widened, revealing enviously straight white teeth. "And trust me, Thorn, my tips are mutually beneficial."

Thorn? "You know you should really wipe your mouth, Noah," I snapped, feeling the burn in my cheeks. It was such a pity he had to be a dick. Why did all the hot ones always have to act like dicks? If only he'd kept his mouth shut…

Noah smirked. "I should?"

"Yeah." I smiled sweetly. "You're talking shit."

Resting his arms on the fence, Noah tilted his head to one side and eyed me curiously. "You know your insults are having the opposite effect on me, right?" he mused in a soft tone. "I find your catty behavior a real turn on, Thorn."

"It's Teagan," I stated calmly, even though I was shaking on the inside. "And what the hell is that supposed to mean?" He was joking. He had to be joking. There was no way I turned a guy like Noah Messina on. He probably got off on naked biker chicks with pierced nipples and tattooed butt-cheeks.

Noah's eyes darkened. "It means you should walk away while you still can."

"Was that your lame attempt at scaring me?" Why the hell was I goading him? I needed to shut the hell up and walk away from this stalemate of a conversation. He was unpredictable and deadly – his actions last weekend had proved that. "Because you'll have to do better than that." Stop it, Teagan. Shut the hell up. "Or has all that sun affected your brain and you're too thick to come up with anything better?" I had no idea why I was being like this. I only knew that my words were irking Noah and that piece of knowledge was like music to my ears.

"You're in too deep, Thorn." Noah's face broke out in a huge grin. "Let's hope you can swim."

I wondered how it was possible my brain detested the man in-front of me and my body craved him. I was embarrassed at how my body reacted to his presence. "Whatever floats your boat, buddy."

Shaking my head, I swung around and walked towards my house before I catapulted over that wall and poked both of their eyes out.

"You know that's two things you owe me for," I heard him call out, followed by snickering. "I take cash, or you could set up a private payment plan with me…"

"You can dream on if you think I'm paying for your iPad or your car," I growled. "The only thing I'm prepared to invest my money in is a muzzle for your sister." And you…

"You'll pay," Noah called out from behind me, "One way or another," and his words chilled me to the bone.

****

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