Burned (Book1) The White Rose Vampire Series

Chapter Two

I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to make myself smaller as we walked out the manor's doors. I bit my bottom lip, familiar panic washing over me because wherever we went, people were going to stare.  

I hated the feeling of their eyes on me...of being picked apart.  It always seemed as if people were trying to discover my secrets in order to hurt me.  I knew it was a ridiculous fear because I really didn't have any secrets.  Everyone knew my parents died.  Besides that, I was just plain, boring me.  Still, that fear lingered, pushing me into the comfortable shadows.  The Gage brothers would take away that comfort because they never went unnoticed.  

"So, I'm in the mood for steak," Jonathon said, breaking through my thoughts.  I tried to push away my anxiety as he opened the rear door of the black, luxury SUV parked in the garage with at least a dozen other vehicles. I slid into the seat, raising my brow as Bastian groaned.

"You don't want steak?" I asked as he closed the passenger door.  I raised my eyes, taking in his face.

"Not again." Bastian turned to me, wrinkling his nose. "Jonathon is in the mood for steak every night. So, if he gives you a choice, choose something else.  Please."

Jonathon smiled, flashing perfect white teeth. "I'm driving so I choose."

"Is there a chance you don't like steak?" Bastian asked, his eyes wide and pleading.

"I'm okay with a burger," I said, hoping they would simply find a place with a drive-through and I wouldn't have to face anyone else.

Jonathon chuckled as Bastian lowered his head, shattering any hope of anonymity. "She eats meat so we're having steak."

"Sorry," I said as Bastian winced shaking his head.

"It's okay." He chuckled as his eyes met mine. "He would have gotten you a salad if you didn't eat meat and we would still be forced to go.  Jonathon doesn't care about anyone else's feelings when it comes to food."

Jonathon flipped him off and started the car before driving toward town. Within ten minutes, we were parked at the only steak house in downtown Brockhurst. As soon as we were out of the car, I realized that Jonathon and Bastian stiffened, their faces losing all playfulness as they stared at the man walking toward us wearing a police uniform.

"Sheriff Hawthorne," Bastian said, his voice icy enough to send a shiver down my spine.

"What are you boys doing here?" He asked, his eyes moving from Bastian to Jonathon, suspicion clear within them.  I raised my brow wondering what they had done to gain the ire of the sheriff.   I had never heard of them being in any trouble.  

"It's a restaurant, Sheriff." Bastian crossed his arms over his chest, smirking when the sheriff narrowed his eyes. "We're eating."

My gaze moved over the portly man in front of me. His sheriff's uniform stretched so taut buttons were threatening to pop off. His greying hair was balding on top and his skin was turning an alarming shade of red that reached from his bald spot down his chubby cheeks. Though at first, he seemed harmless, there was something that flashed in his eyes that made me wonder if he was dangerous. It was something dark, a warning hidden in each word. That warning was so potent that when he turned to me and grinned, I had to fight the urge to shiver.