The boy that lived across the lake.
Lake George, New York.
Population 3578
-
The gas station was dark, cold, and abandoned. Looking around, I spotted a young looking man, one leg propped against the wall of the convenience store, his emerald orbs staring into my soul. I didn't realize that he was watching my every movement, from the moment my rusty jeep entered the station.
Suddenly, as I walked around the jeep, the man had took long steps towards me. His eyes didn't leave mine for a second, and I took a step back. He quickly wrapped his tattooed muscular arms around my waist, one hand running through the exposed skin of my back as my shirt rose up.
"Get away from me you creep," I exclaimed, glaring into his beautiful eyes.
A hand tattoo peaked out from his chest, and the glare of the moon made it shine brightly. Smirking, he nuzzled his sculpted nose into my neck. His arms roamed places that they shouldn't have; he was a stranger.
"Baby, now that I've seen you, I'm not sure I can stay away," he whispers huskily into my ear. Goosebumps had rose from the breeze, and I gasped as he pulled me closer.
-
I push through tourists pointing at the skyscrapers soaring the night skies, rushing to get down to the subway station at the corner of the block. Hundreds of civilians run down with me, hoping to catch the Coney Island Bound Q train that was about to abandon the rest of the late running commuters.
Arriving at Downtown Brooklyn, I spotted my obvious 9 floor school; Brooklyn Technical High School. Going to a school with almost 6000 kids, everyday brought something new.
1 week later, my mom announces our move upstate to Lake George, NY. Still New York you say? For miles, you can see nothing but roads and the woods.
Walking down the abandoned roads, I could always sense eyes watching me. Eyes glaring into my soul, from the shadows behind the woods.
What really could be lurking in those shadows?
"I know exactly what you like."
I swallowed, my throat dry despite the whiskey. "And what does that have to do with your secret?"
His lips curved, the faintest hint of a smirk. "Because I think you want someone who can push back."
The heat in my stomach curled tighter, and I hated that too. Hated that he was reading me too easily, hated that I couldn't tell if he was just playing or if he really understood. "That's not much of a secret," I said smoothly, keeping my voice even. "Anyone could guess that."
"Maybe," Harry mused, his fingers toying with the rim of his glass. "But I don't think just anyone could keep up with you."
I narrowed my eyes, my body betraying me with the way it leaned just slightly closer. "And you think you can?"
He didn't answer right away. He just held my gaze, letting the anticipation stretch, letting the weight of it settle between us. Then, finally, his smirk deepened.
"I guess that depends," he murmured, his voice dropping to something dark. "Are you gonna let me find out?"
//
August Paisley was born into bloodshed. As the daughter of Brooklyn's most ruthless mafia leader, she's spent her life sharpening her edges, knowing that love is a liability and trust is a death sentence. With enemies circling and war on the horizon, she has no time for distractions-especially not the kind that comes in the form of sharp-tongued, brooding, Harry Styles.
Harry is everything she should hate. The son of her family's greatest enemy. A man raised on the promise of destruction. Their worlds are built on blood feuds and old grudges, and there's no future where the two of them walk away unscathed. But when their paths collide, what starts as a battle of wit and fire turns into something else-something intoxicating, something inevitable. Falling for him is a mistake that cost her everything. Her life. But in a war where nothing is certain, letting him go might be the most dangerous thing of all.