Broken and Screwed 2

Taking a few deep breaths, I tried to settle my pulse down. I couldn’t believe this was the same girl Jesse had been with for so long. She’d been shy. She’d been dainty. Now she was ugly. I didn’t mean her looks.

“Let’s go.” She gave me a pointed look as she spoke to Marissa, “Jesse told me where the real party is at. He said Cord’s there and he’s coming right behind us.”

Marissa had been watching me. When I didn’t react, her lips thinned. She knew Jesse had been lying. “Sure. Why not?” Her eyes never left mine. “I’ll see you later?”

I didn’t answer.

I didn’t care.

When they left, she gave me a sad smile while Sarah hurried off. Her hand was clutching onto Marissa, as if claiming her, and she went along like a dutiful friend.

Whatever had changed, I knew Marissa would never be my best friend again. She’d never be merely a friend either.

I squared my shoulders and lifted my chin.

That was just fine with me.

‘All you do is lie.’

I went in search for Jesse, and I shut that nagging voice down. It would only bring me heartache.

CHAPTER TWELVE

When I approached the group at the bottom, no one paid me attention. This was why Sarah hadn’t liked them, because they hadn’t cared about her. A few others were behind me and were greeted by a group to the side. It was obvious this was a tight group. Sidelong glances were cast at me. I felt the suspicion from some of the members, some were merely curious.

Jesse lifted his arm. He was sitting in a lawn chair around a campfire. As I drew near, I saw it wasn’t a real campfire, but one that stood in the air. It was an expensive looking piece of metal that would’ve looked at home on a millionaire’s patio. It stood out, nestled in the middle of its group with ripped and fading lawn chairs.

Jesse patted his lap. I sat in front of his feet. I sensed his confusion, but then his hands came to my shoulder and he began to rub between my shoulders. When they paused, he had found the knots of tension between my shoulder blades. Biting my tongue, I hoped he wouldn’t comment on them. I didn’t want to talk. As his thumbs started to press into them and he began a massage, my shoulders lifted up in a relieved breath.

Thank god.

A girl from across the campfire waved. She had a baseball cap pulled down to cover most of her face. Her jean shorts were ripped at the ends with a white tank underneath a baggy flannel shirt. I was surprised as I recognized this girl from The Shack. She’d been the one tending the bar. Brielle? Was that what Jesse had called her? No, he called her Bri. As I looked around the rest of the campfire, I was even more surprised.

The entire band of Braille sat around it. All of them had on baseball caps, all pulled low over their faces. They were unrecognizable.

No wonder Sarah thought this Feast was a joke. I knew without a doubt that she hadn’t known who else was in attendance.

The drummer was beside Bri and he was tapping her foot with his. She glared at him, then kicked his leg back. A goofy grin slid over his face as he continued to bob his head to the music’s beat. After she settled back down, he began tapping her foot again.

“Braden!” she growled.

“Shut up,” a low warning came from beside me.

A guy was on the ground with a guitar in his lap. His shoulders were being rubbed how mine were, but instead of Jesse, he got a blonde bombshell. Her hair was sun streaked and instead of the flannel shirt Bri wore, this girl only wore a black tank top. It resembled more of a tube top as it rested high on her stomach and barely covered her cle**age. Tight black shorts disappeared in her lawn chair as her golden legs wrapped around the guy in front of her.

Jesse chuckled and gray eyes shifted over to us. A menacing look was in them. I felt blasted with his coldness, but it didn’t have the same effect on Jesse. He cursed at him, “Stuff it, Luke.”

The drummer, identified as Braden now, pumped a hand in the air. He held two drumsticks in it. “Yeah, Hunt! You tell him.”

Bri’s lip curled up. “Just what we need, two superstars getting in a fight.”

A guy in the back commented, “It’d be good publicity.”

As they continued to tease Jesse and the guy beside me, I was even more jolted to recognize the lead singer of Braille. I hadn’t put two and two together. My gaze had skipped over him and I assumed Luke Skeet was elsewhere.

As I studied him, he sent a withering look across the fire to Bri, whose gaze cooled at his first growl and she lifted her beer. An eyebrow went up, defiantly, and she took a long slow swallow from her can. His head moved down a notch as he glared at her, but he seemed riveted by what he was seeing.

She caught me staring and winked.

Maybe I should’ve been flustered. Maybe I should’ve been embarrassed. I wasn’t. I grinned back and then caught a beer that was tossed in my lap.

“Jeezus, Hunt. Your date’s probably parched by now. Good manners.”

His fingers dug into my skin, but a low chuckle was his only response.

I risked a peek over my shoulder, but found myself in my own riveted state. His gaze had darkened and smoldered down at me. My throat went dry. My legs began to throb in answer.

I didn’t know who moved first. It might’ve been me or it might’ve been the shift in his fingers, but we moved as one unit. I was transferred from the ground and into his lap. As I laid my head against his chest and his arm wrapped around me, one of the guys asked, “Hunt, you ever going to introduce us? This is the second time you’ve brought her around.”