The Bayshore Rivals: The Entier Series Page 7

  He’s up to something and it isn’t good.

  Still, I can’t help but notice how delicious looking he is, like a piece of cheesecake just waiting to be devoured. He’s wearing something similar to Banks, his shirt a striking red, which seems fitting since I want to make him bleed out right now.

  Mystery boy pulls back, eyes wide, while lifting his hands. “Sorry, I didn't know she was here with someone.”

  “That’s because I’m not,” I grit out, shoving at Sullivan’s side which causes him to drop his arm. His lips turn up into a cruel smile, and to anyone else it would look as if he’s on the verge of laughing but not to me. No, I can see the evil monster lurking underneath, waiting to come out and play.

  He wants to hurt me, and even though I deserve it, it pains me that I can’t just have one night to myself.

  “It’s not your fault, man, she likes to make me jealous by sleeping around. No hard feelings. I’ll keep an eye on her for the rest of the night, make sure she doesn’t suck some random guy off in the bathroom, again.” Sullivan says dramatically. My mouth pops open, shock overtaking me.

  What. The. Fuck?

  The other guy’s eyes grow wider, if at all possible, his cheeks turning crimson red, before he mutters a sorry and walks away. Once the poor guy is out of sight I turn towards Sullivan with my fists clenched, anger burning in my veins.

  “Who the hell do you think you are?” I yell, shoving at his chest with both hands.

  I expect him to say something, do something, anything, but instead he tips his head back and starts to laugh, and not just a normal laugh either. This is a belly shaking, laugh your face off laugh. If he wanted to embarrass me, to make me feel like dirt then he’s succeeded, again.

  “You’re a piece of shit, Sullivan, and I wish that I never kissed you that night. I’m sorry for what happened, okay? I’m sorry, but this? This is too much. I don’t care that I hurt you, nothing warrants this. Nothing.” I growl and shove at him again. My little outburst is gathering attention, and I can already hear the whispers swirling around. Twisting around on my wedges, I start to walk away, but I make it less than a step before Sullivan’s meaty paw lands on my shoulder halting me.

  “We’re done, when I say…” All logical thinking goes out the window, all I feel is rage, red hot rage and before I realize what I’m doing, my hand is moving through the air. Even over the music I can hear the loud slap of skin on skin as my palm makes contact with his cheek. Pain lances across my hand, but I don’t care if I hurt him.

  His words hurt me more than he could ever know. The blow causes him to take a step back, and out of the corner of my eye I see his gaze widen, his eyebrows lifting up to his hairline with shock. Like a fish gasping for air his mouth pops open. Lifting a hand to his cheek he touches the red mark left behind as if he can’t believe that I actually slapped him.

  There’s a tightening in my chest, and it feels like my heart is breaking. Those blue eyes of his—that I’ve seen filled with compassion, and maybe even kindness in the past—fill with anger.

  “Leave me alone. I’m done playing your games,” I say feeling defeated, and this time when I turn to walk away, he lets me. My eyes are burning with unshed tears as I make my way through the crowded dance floor pushing anyone who doesn't move fast enough out of the way. I’m not sure my night can get any worse, and then it does.

  Right before I walk out, I spot Oliver and Banks lounging on a leather sofa near the door. Each of them have a girl cuddled up beside them. I know it shouldn't bother me so much seeing them with other girls, hell, it shouldn't bother me at all, not after what just happened. But I can’t help the sting of jealousy that lashes through me. It’s like someone poured acid in my chest and I’m being painfully burned from the inside out.

  They both look up as I approach. My chest heaves and I feel like I can’t get enough air into my lungs. Oliver meets my eyes first, his smug smile turning into a frown but I don’t know why. Before I can study his expression further, the long-legged blonde slides onto his lap and covers her lips with his.

  Lips that I kissed only days ago. Lips that I can still feel on mine.

  I clench my hands into tight fists and glance over at Banks, his eyebrows are drawn together almost as if he’s concerned. It doesn’t make sense, none of them really care. I’ve dug my own hole, and pushing them, letting them kiss me, touch me has just buried myself deeper. Unable to stand there and look at them a second longer I start walking out the door.

  “That’s right. Run along little girl,” the bimbo on Banks’ arm calls after me. I don’t give her a second glance. She’s not worth it. Not worth the anger. The pain. She deserves Banks. I just push out the door and into the cool September night. The tipsiness I felt moments ago completely vanished. The reality of it all hitting me is more sobering than a bucket full of ice water raining down on me.

  Wrapping my arms around myself, I try and keep myself together in more ways than one. I don’t want to be here right now, on this stupid boat. Feeling the panic inside me rise up I start walking around the deck, looking out into the vast darkness of the ocean. We are so far out I can’t even see a single light past the water.

  The wind is chilly and barely having anything on doesn’t help to keep me warm one bit, but I would rather freeze to death out here than go back in there again. Hopefully Shelby will notice that I’m missing and come out and find me soon.

  Walking back to the far end of the yacht where I’m hidden by the darkness, I let go of the pain that’s painting my insides. Tears start to fall down my cheeks, even though I told the bastards to stay inside. Placing my hands on the cold metal railing I let my head fall forward.

  How did my life become so sad?

  The question has been running through my mind for a while now. How did it come to this? Was is all my fault? My father’s? Or maybe it was nobody’s fault and we all just need to live with the cards we were dealt? Somehow, I don’t think that.

  One tear after the other cascades down my face, and into the dark blue ocean beneath me. All I want is for someone to hug me. To take me into their arms and tell me I’m going to be alright, that everything is going to be okay.

  A brisk wind blows through my hair and I bite my lip to stifle the sob threatening to rip from my throat. I’m torn from my hug daydream by a hard shove from behind.

  Everything unfolds so fast that I don’t have even a second to react. One moment I’m standing by the railing, the next I’m being shoved over the edge, flying through the cold air.

  A gut-wrenching scream rips from my chest, rushing past my lips a moment before my body hits the unforgiving sea.

  Pain ripples through me on impact, petrifying my bones as a terrorizing darkness swallows me whole. Panic grabs onto every cell in my body, robbing my brain of any thought but one. Survival.

  It takes everything inside me to push aside the feeling of a thousand needles prickling across my skin that the ice-cold water leaves me with. My lungs burn, begging, pleading for air. Squeezing my eyes shut I overcome the stiffness in my limbs and start kicking my legs with everything I have left to give.

  I push and push, giving it my all, but if I’ve learned anything, it’s that sometimes giving someone or something your all isn’t enough.

  7

  My chest constricts the muscles so tight that I can barely breathe. I try and swallow but my throat, and lungs hurt so badly that it feels like an elephant is sat on my chest.

  Somehow, I manage to get air into my lungs, though it feels like I’m breathing through a straw. Darkness still has a hold on me, its claws sinking deep into my subconscious refusing to let go, and let me open my eyes.

  While I can’t open my eyes, my ears still work. There are voices surrounding me, most of which I don’t know. There is a gasp and a flurry of whispers that float around me like clouds wisping through the air.

  Two voices stick out, reaching deep inside of me, making my shallow heartbeat, turn into a hard gallop.

 
“She’s breathing,” Oliver exclaims. I can hear him panting, attempting to catch his breath and I wonder what happened. There’s a hand cradling face and somehow, I know it’s his. I want to nuzzle into his touch, sink into his warmth, but I can’t. I can’t move at all. It feels like I’m floating just barely clinging to this world.

  “Harlow, can you hear me?” Sullivan's voice caresses my ear. There's a pleading to his voice, telling me he’s concerned, and I try my best to answer him, or at least, open my eyes, but I’m unable to do either. My lips part, my mouth opening, but words never come. All I get are my teeth chattering together.

  Only now, with the touch of Oliver’s hand do I realize how cold I am. More than cold, freezing.

  “We need to get her dry and warm,” Banks says, right next to me, two strong hands rubbing up and down my arm.

  A second pair of strong arms slide underneath me and lift me into the air. My body curls in on itself as if out of instinct and my head falls against a firm shoulder.

  “Everything’s going to be okay. I’ve got you,” Sullivan whispers into the shell of my ear while cradling me to his chest.

  Strangely, that’s all I need to hear to know it’s going to be okay. He said he’s got me, and for the first time, I believe him because I know, deep down, he won’t let anything happen to me. In his arms I’m shielded, secure, and protected, at least for now. I let sleep pull me under once more. Even in the darkness I feel safe knowing he is holding me.

  Awareness comes back to me slowly and the coldness that was threatening to eat at my limbs has vanished. My body still aches all over, but the freezing cold water has been replaced with something warm, something that smells delicious, and something that makes me melt into a puddle of mush. I try and stretch, but my muscles are stiff and tingling like I’ve been laying on them wrong. A pained moan escapes my lips as I try and move.

  “Shit,” I hear Sullivan’s voice right by my ear. It’s strained, and thick with restraint. “She’s grinding her ass over my dick.”

  “I don’t think she’s doing it on purpose,” Banks snickers.

  “Tell that to my dick, asshole.”

  “Just think about something else,” Oliver chimes in. “Or we can trade places, if this is too hard for you.”

  “Funny. I’m good right here. I’ll deal with the blue balls later. You already did your part by jumping in to save her. When are we getting back to land and where the hell did Shelby go?” Sullivan growls.

  Save me? Oliver saved me?

  “Calm down. I sent her to get Harlow something warm to drink and to try and find her some dry clothes.”

  My eyes still feel impossibly heavy like there are boulders weighing them down, and now that the coldness has dissipated, I feel every single ache but intensified by twenty.

  What happened to me?

  “Why would she do that to herself? Have we really been that horrible to her? Is death easier than us?”

  For a moment I’m confused. What are they talking about? I didn’t hurt myself. I would never do that. Much like the waves cresting against a beach, pushing and pulling the sand my memories start to resurface in my mind.

  Slapping Sullivan.

  Walking out.

  Crying.

  Someone shoving me off the boat and into the water.

  Oh my god. I almost died.

  “I don’t know, Sullivan, maybe we’ve been miscalculating this whole thing. She looked really bad when she was running out of there,” Banks tells him.

  “If you ask me, we’ve been kinder to her than her family’s ever been to us.” Sullivan says, this time. “But I don’t know, maybe you’re right. Maybe we’ve taken things too far.”

  “Stop. We don’t know anything yet, not until she wakes up.” Oliver says, in a low voice, a voice that says his word is final.

  Digging deep I find the strength to pry my eyes open. It takes what seems like hours to do but can’t be more than a minute. I blink a few times, my surroundings come into view. We’re still on the boat that much I can tell from the slight bobbing motion, but we’re in what looks like one of the cabins below deck.

  The room is small and with all three brothers inside it, it seems even smaller. Banks is sitting on a chair to the left of me, and Oliver is sitting on the edge of the bed. A throat clears and I lift my head just the slightest, finding that I’m lying on a bed with Sullivan spooning me, both his arms wrapped tightly around me. Wiggling a tiny bit I feel soft fabric against my bare skin.

  Naked? I’m naked.

  As if he can read the horror on my face Banks says, “We had to undress you. We didn’t touch, and we didn’t look expect for when we had to, I promise.” The wink he gives me is one that I’m sure is to ease the tension, but it doesn’t.

  “Yeah, you were freezing, your lips blue, and your skin ashen.” Oliver says, and my gaze swings to him. I can see the pain in his deep brown eyes, but I don’t understand it. I don’t know why they care if I live or die? They certainly didn’t care earlier with those chicks on their arms. My eyes fall closed for a moment as I try and gather my thoughts. I can’t think about any of that right now. I almost died, someone pushed me off the boat.

  “I… I didn’t jump.” I croak, my throat feeling raw, my voice sounding like someone else’s and not my own.

  “We’re just glad you’re okay.” Banks whispers, his voice thick like honey. Weakly I turn my head and glance at him, the blue of his eyes blaze with anger, and sadness, the two emotions swirling together, bleeding into each other.

  “Someone pushed me… I don’t know…” My voice cracks again, and pain fills my chest. Who would push me? Who hates me enough to want me dead?

  Before all of this, I would have thought they did? But then why would they save me? It makes zero sense.

  “Shhh, we can talk about this later.” Sullivan soothes. I want to tell him I’ll talk about it now but I’m too exhausted to care, or to fight back. I let the warmth of his body heat encompass me. It wraps around me like a blanket holding all my broken pieces together. Slowly I breathe him in, he smells like rain, and citrus, it soothes the ache forming in my chest.

  Closing my eyes again, it doesn't take long for sleep to drag me back down. It’s a lighter, more carefree sleep this time. As if I’m just taking a little afternoon nap instead of recovering from almost drowning.

  The next time I come to, I am being carried off the boat. I can’t even move my arms because my whole body is swaddled in a blanket. Blinking my eyes open, I squint up and find that Banks is the one carrying me this time. I stare up at him for a long moment, taking in his features. I know it’s stupid and that I have other, much bigger things to worry about but I kind of want to kiss him. Just to see if all of this is real, if I really did almost die, if they really did save me.

  “Where do you think you’re taking her?” Shelby squeaks. She sounds out of breath, like she’s been running or something.

  “We need to get her to the hospital,” Banks snarls, his tone razor sharp.

  His response pulls me from my dreamlike state and I start to panic.

  “No,” I croak. “No hospital.” His pace slows when he hears my voice, concern etched into his handsome features.

  “Please, I just want to go home and go to sleep,” I plead. The last thing I need is to go to the hospital because then my father will be called, and I’d much rather die than deal with him right now.

  Eventually Banks stops walking all together his gaze flicking around. When I follow his gaze I find Sullivan, Oliver, and Shelby all standing around us.

  “I told you she wouldn't want to go. She hates hospitals,” Shelby says, all matter of factly, her arms crossed over her chest.

  “Are you sure?” Sullivan asks, looking at me, his eyebrows pinched together as he examines my face, like it’s hiding all my secrets.

  “I promise. I’m fine. I feel better already. Nothing a little soup, and sleep can’t fix.”

  The guys exchange a look, what this look is,
I don’t know. I can’t even really explain it. It’s like they’re agreeing on something without even speaking.

  All three of them nod their heads and then Sullivan speaks, “Fine, but you’re coming with us.”

  “What?” Shelby practically screams.

  “She’s coming with us, at least until she’s feeling better,” Sullivan announces, which only seems to peeve Shelby off further.

  “Wait, you’re telling me that you’re going to take her back to your house? You guys? The same people who hate her?”

  “We don’t hate her.” Banks interjects.

  “Pfft, could’ve fooled me, it was probably one of you that pushed her off the boat.”

  The statement is a bold one, and whatever response Shelby was trying to get out of them she earns because Oliver takes a menacing step towards her, his finger pointed at her.

  “Oh yeah, because I’m going to shove her off the fucking boat, and risk my life jumping into the same waters to save her, for what? Fun?” Oliver’s face twists, morphing into something I’ve never seen before.

  Shelby snarls, “I don’t know, maybe? It seems like all of this is a game to you guys. Who’s to say you don’t want her dead? Or maybe you just want to play the hero?”

  A cruel bubble of laughter pushes past Oliver’s lips, “If we wanted her dead, she’d be dead already.”

  Okay, so I felt that one right in the heart.

  “Enough you two.” Sullivan barks, “It’s already been decided. She’s coming with us.” He turns toward Shelby who is rolling her eyes.

  “You don’t own her. Nothing has been decided at all. I’ll take care of her.” She argues, and I swear I see her stomp her foot in anger.

  “Shelby, it’s okay. I’ll just go with them.”

  “Fine,” she finally huffs. “But they better not hurt you,” she gives all of them a stern look, one that says don’t fuck with me or my friend.