When Charlotte Evans last saw Dylan Trafford, two years ago, he broke her heart. The boy with the tattoos and a penchant for speed was the only guy Charlotte ever loved--and the one who broke her trust. After one intense night of secrets and temptat...
THE FIRST TIME I saw Dylan Trafford he stole my heartbeat from me. I wish I could say it happened exactly like a scene of those cheesy romantic movies I used to watch curled on the couch with a bowl of pop corn, but that couldn't be further from the truth.
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THE COOL AIR kissed the skin of my bare arms and legs and my lungs expanded on a deep breath. My eyes closed for a second relishing the caress and letting it calm my rising anxiety. How I wished I had gathered something out of those boring yoga classes my mother had pressured me into taking.
A nearby crash had my eyes opening in a flash. The door to the front porch opened, a flow of music slipping through, and two guys around my age stumbled out. One of them gave me an appreciative glance and I had to rein the urge to tug at the hem of my dress.
"Man, someone better call God, 'cause he is missing an angel!"
I clutched the phone in my hand tighter as they laughed their sloppy way down the stairs. My heart was running a mile a minute.
They are leaving.
You are fine.
You.are.fine.
God I shouldn't have let Tracy drag me into this.
She'd promised it would be fun. I'd convinced myself it would be nice to enjoy a typical Friday night as most people my age did. I thought it would help me forget about my own problems. Look where that got me.
Tracy ditched me as soon as she found her flavor of the week and now I was stuck. My cell had died about five minutes after we'd gotten here. The owner of the car we'd come in was probably having a 'fun' time in one of the rooms on the first floor. My mother didn't know I was here. And my brother...
If he ever found out he would kill me.
God, if I ever got out of here alive I'd never place a foot inside a high school party ever again.
The trump thump thump of the music echoed in my chest, the sounds of a party in full swing filled the night air. Nobody could deny Tracy had popped my high school party cherry. She had gone all out. I'd seen lots of booze, cigars, drugs, scantily clad girls---I'd thought the tight black mini dress Tracy forced me to wear was too revealing, but it had nothing against what the girls in there were wearing.
I should probably borrow a phone, but the idea of going inside the house again gave me the shivers. No wonder my brother didn't attend parties anymore.
The rumbling of a motorcycle brought my attention to the road. The street lamp was concealed by the trees surrounding the house so I could barely make out a shadow approach.
In my head I started chanting the prayer that always got me through: Please, please I don't want to die like this.
The rumbling got louder and louder until the motorcycle came to a stop a few feet from where I was standing to the side of the porch. I couldn't take my eyes away from it. It was huge.
