Lullabye (Rockstar #6) (14 page)

So, back to our names. Although I thought they were cool, Heath despised his, even though his broody spells said the name fit him perfectly. But he’d taken a lot of crap from the other kids for it when he was little, so when I was old enough to know what it meant, I told him his name sounded prestigious and it would look great on business cards someday. He’d laughed at that saying he hoped that all the hell he’d gotten for it would eventually pay off. He was now a software developer in Boise, a job for which he was getting paid bank, so I’d say he’d more than vindicated himself for being picked on. Matter of fact, he was making so much money, he even co-signed for a loan with Dad for our farm. Dad, of course, had balked, but Heath had insisted, telling Dad the money would likely just go to more beer, so Dad had half-jokingly given in for the sake of Heath’s sobriety. My other brother Holden, who lived up to his namesake in the fact that he was a deep thinker (and also quite the party boy), was twenty-four, a huge ladies man and was the one in law school who’d convinced Dad to let me come to Seattle. And I’m Scout. I think I’ve done a decent job living up to my name because I’ve always been a tomboy and Dad says I’ve also always been fairly precocious.

So there I sat in psychology class on the first day, when to my utter shock (and annoyance), Tire Change Dude walked in. And, damn it, he was even better looking out of the rain.

He had on a gray short-sleeved Godsmack t-shirt over a long-sleeved black tee, hiding the full sleeves of tattoos that I knew he had, but I could still see part of a tattoo peeking out at the left side of his neck. I saw that his hair was actually a dark caramel-color, not quite as dark as the rain had made it appear, and he wore it in a fade cut with long bangs spiked up in the front. His faded jeans sat low on his hips and he wore brown, lace-up boots. He also had on black reading glasses, and jumping Jesus on a pogo stick, he looked good.

I immediately turned my head away, scratching myself on the neck nonchalantly, hoping he wouldn’t recognize me. I then heard a guy several rows behind and a few seats to the left of me holler “Yo!” and I turned slightly to see Tattoo Dude raise his head in a nod at him then he came up the stairs and passed right by me and, damn it, I couldn’t
not
look. His eyes caught mine but they looked right through me, no recognition in them at all, which I oddly found was kind of disappointing.

As I sat waiting for class to begin, I listened to the two guys talking and, boy, did I learn a lot. First of all, tire dude’s name was Gable. I hadn’t remembered what his girlfriend had called him that day in the rain, but now it clicked. Secondly, I found out they’d had a party the weekend before and Gable had gotten so wasted that he’d woken up in bed with three girls, so I guessed the classy babe with him when I had a flat wasn’t his girlfriend after all. Thirdly, I now knew he was thinking of getting another tattoo, probably “Luctor et emergo” on his right pec, which I knew was Latin but had no clue what it meant. The guy with him was just as clueless, asking about it, but Gable had remained close-mouthed. Fourthly, their poker game had been changed from Wednesday night to Thursday. And fifthly, who the fuck was the hot blonde piece of tail sitting in front of him with legs that went on for miles that he wouldn’t mind having wrapped around his head?

He had to be kidding. Who said stuff like that in public? And did he really think that’d land him a girl? Wow. I inspected the classroom for the poor blond girl he was talking so rudely about, but most of the girls I saw had dark hair. Then I felt something hit the side of my head, and frowning, turned to see him and his friend ogling me as the wadded paper one of them had thrown landed in my lap.

The friend jerked his chin up at me. “What’s up? Hey, did you fall from the sky because let’s have sex.”

I stared at him for a moment before scrunching up my face and saying, “Seriously?” Really, who talked that way?

Gable’s eyes narrowed then. “I know you.” I squinted my eyes right back at him then he snapped his fingers and pointed at me. “Tire girl. Miss Priss.” And he gave me that lopsided grin.

I rolled my eyes and turned away because I was embarrassed by the whole encounter. I was also flustered at the fact that my heart was beating ninety-to-nothing and my nipples had gotten hard at just seeing him grin at me. God.

The professor had now come in and started taking roll, so I kept my attention on her, ignoring the fact that I could feel Gable’s eyes burning a hole into the side of my head. I wanted to turn to him and frown, maybe even give him the finger, but I knew that’d just get me another nipple-hardening grin so I stayed facing forward. But as I sat there, using every ounce of restraint I could to keep from looking at him, I realized I was actually flattered by what he’d said about me, and it horrified me that I’d feel that way about being objectified and I wanted to smack myself in the head as I tried figuring out where my self-respect had gone.

During roll call, I learned that his last name was Powers. Oh, boy, he was one of
them
. The
them
I’d been hearing about since stepping onto campus. And he was flirting with me. Well, wasn’t I the lucky one. Unable to help being curious about this latest bit of info and wanting to know if he really was as good looking as everyone had been saying (I mean, I’d seen him but hadn’t known who he was so I hadn’t really
seen him seen him
), I risked a glance over my left shoulder at him only to find him gazing right back at me with a lazy grin. Holy crap! I turned around quickly and promptly swallowed my gum on the breath I’d sucked in at getting caught. As I choked out a cough, I decided he
was
as hot as everyone had been saying, and I also decided I was an idiot to mess with him. Although very handsome, he was uncouth, rude and too wild for the likes of me and I needed to stay far, far away from him, which I told myself I’d do.

So why the hell did that make him even more intriguing?

Loyalties and Lies (Chastity Falls #1)

©2015 LA Cotton

The place I would call home for the next four years was quaint, but it didn’t have the air of a small college. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. It just felt different. Nothing like the Ivy League schools that I had visited before
everything
changed. As my eyes swept over the red brick buildings, scattered amongst dense woods, my imagination was working overtime. Chastity Falls Academy looked like the kind of place that housed secrets—the kind of place perfect for a girl running from her own.

A crowd of students huddled together on the steps outside of Carver Hall, waiting for freshmen orientation to commence. I took a deep breath, shook off my reservations, and hitched my bag further up my shoulder as I headed toward them.
Better get this over with.

“Freshmen, over here,” shouted a wiry guy with hair so white it shimmered in the damp air, his hands cupped around his mouth. “Dorm assignments in the Schroeder building, class registration in Pauling Hall, and student activities sign up is out on the field behind the Kingman Gymnasium. But most importantly, the orientation party tonight at Chastity Fallen House.”

A chorus of cheers erupted, reverberating off the buildings, making the few hundred crowd seem bigger. Apparently, I was the only person not excited by the prospect of the first college party, and who had no idea what Chastity Fallen House was.

“Name?” the brunette seated behind the desk scowled as I moved up to the front of the queue.

“Ana Parry, I mean, Savanah, Savanah Parry.”

She flicked through the pile of manila envelopes and pulled one out. “Savanah Parry, three B, McGinley Hall. Key card is in the pack; campus map, freshmen orientation schedule, and tokens for the cafeteria are all inside, too.”
Smile, it won’t kill you,
I thought to myself while I plastered on my best I-refuse-to-let-your-mood-piss-me-off smile. “Thanks.”

I followed the campus map to my dorm. The air was damp and a fine mist clung to my jacket like incandescent spiderwebs. Moving three thousand miles across the country had been like arriving on another planet. As if that wasn’t enough to deal with, now I was about to meet my roommate; the person I would be forced to at least tolerate for the next year. Anything more would be a bonus, but I wasn’t holding my breath. Social wasn’t exactly a word people used to describe me anymore. It’s why I had marked a preference for a single room, but the welcome pack that arrived at Aunt Betsy’s back in May informed me that I had been assigned a double. It wasn’t ideal, but it would have to do.

Stopping at the bottom step of the entrance to McGinley Hall, I rolled my eyes. Of course, it just had to be the last dorm block, sitting nestled on the edge of a vast forest, with the football stadium just visible off in the distance. Huge Douglas firs cloaked the small two story, l-shaped building. I inhaled a deep breath in an attempt to calm my racing pulse.
Welcome home.
The thought made my heart ache, but I forced down the feelings, locking them away tightly in their compartment. Now wasn’t the time or the place for a trip down memory lane.

The dorm was crazy; girls dragging boxes and suitcases, teary-eyed parents offering warnings, and gushing well wishes. I kept my head low, avoiding the questioning looks at my one person-one bag arrangement, and a sigh of relief escaped my lips when I finally reached the door marked 3b.
Home
.

I stepped inside the half-opened door, my eyes scanning the room, taking in every detail. The beige walls, white varnished door and window frames, pale roller blind, and light matching furniture weren’t exactly cozy, but it was clean and tidy, and we had our own bathroom.

“Hi, roomie,” a voice called from behind me, and I turned to observe a girl, similar to my five-foot-six height, enter the room balancing boxes in her slim arms. “Could you grab one of these?” she asked.

I dropped my bag onto the empty bed—the one she obviously designated as mine—and went to help her. As I peered into the box full of clothes and shoes, I realized just how light I was traveling. Another wave of sadness crashed over me, but I pushed it down.
Lock it away, Ana.

“
I’m Elena, Elena Marks. You’re Savanah Parry, right?” the girl asked over the box.

I forced my lips into a thin smile. “Ana, I like to be called Ana. Nice to meet you, Elena Marks.”

“Likewise. I just waved my parents off, thank God. They were driving me loco.” She dropped the box onto her bed, next to the other boxes, and turned back to me, zeroing in on my one bag. “So, where’s all your stuff?”

I shrugged. “I travel light.”

Elena’s dark brown eyes narrowed as if she was trying to work me out. After a couple of seconds, her features softened. She smiled and said, “Well, we look about the same size. Mi casa es su casa. You can borrow my stuff whenever, chica.”

My body sagged with relief. I had been dreading this part—the questions, the getting-to-know-you awkwardness, but Elena made it easy. And if I didn’t have issues with people touching me, I would have hugged her right there and then.

“So, where are you from?” Elena emptied a box out and started hanging dresses onto hangers in her wardrobe as I rolled out the desk chair from my side of the l-shaped room and sank into it.

“Born and raised Floridian.”

“Ahh, a fellow sun sister. Muy bueno. I’m beginning to think that I made a mistake moving to the wet side.”

I smiled. Elena was like a breath of fresh air and her hint of a Spanish accent made her voice sing, but surprisingly, it didn’t irritate me. Instead, its melodic quality calmed me.

“I’m from Santa Fe; we get our fair share of rain, but we also get plenty of sun.” Holding out her caramel-skinned arms in front of her, she added, “I’ll end up three shades lighter after four years here.”

I couldn’t help the small laugh escaping my lips. “They must get
some
sun here.”

“Chica, did you not read the climate information? Chastity Falls, Oregon is one of the wettest places on the planet. And with the blanket of firs out there, even if the sun did find its way out, we’d never see it.”

“It is a little creepy, isn’t it?”

She wiggled her eyebrows. “Just be sure never to go down to the woods alone. You don’t know what’s lurking.” Her heart-shaped lips broke into a grin. “Anyway, what time shall we head over to the party tonight?”

My brow furrowed to match the tension radiating through my body. “What party?”

Elena clicked her tongue. “The one at Fallen House. Please tell me you know what I’m talking about?”

I slouched back and closed my eyes, spinning the chair. “Yeah, about that, I’m not really big into partying.”

Elena’s head whipped up. “Please tell me that you’re joking? This is college, chica,
college
.”

She was right. It was college… my fresh start. I had to move on with my life.
Needed
to move on. It was time. Wasn’t it?

I hesitated, and then said, “Of course, I’m joking. You should see your face.”

It was a lie, something that I had become good at over the last year. Too good.

Elena clutched at her heart. “Gracias a Dios. You had me worried there. If there’s one thing you come to CFA for, it’s the parties.”

It is?
I had picked it because it was the furthest point away from my old life. The life that I was trying to forget. I had given anything else little thought. Chastity Falls had a great English program, and it was small, hidden… and far, far away from Fort Pierce, Florida.

* * *

I had survived my first day at CFA. Elena talked me into checking out the orientation activities at Kingman Gym and Carver Hall, and we both returned to McGinley with bags full of coupons for the two stores in town, the local theatre—which apparently only had two screens— the college cafe, and handfuls of tiny samples of washing detergent and strips of condoms. I had tried to refuse them when the student holding the huge bucket thrust a handful at me.
Like I’ll ever need them.