Because that’s exactly what these assholes are in our small town. Each of their ancestors is a founding family. They’re like great white sharks, swimming amongst a sea of us trout. Or are we sardines? Jesus. I can’t even think straight anymore.
Trent’s bastard, jock rich friends call themselves the Savages. Town royalty. Amongst other ridiculous nicknames.
Why? No one really knows.
They’re like a rabid pack of wolves—the strongest of their pack. They stick together, though it remains unknown who, out of the five of them, is the alpha.
Over the years, I’ve watched them from afar. I’ve heard the rumors, and even though they can be just that, rumors; part of me never truly believed it. They were constantly up to no good. If there was a brawl at school or at a party, everyone already knew who was behind it. If there was a commotion in town late at night, the rest of the people in Ferndale knew to stay indoors. If they destructed town property, the sheriff and the rest of the police were never anywhere to be found. If there was a girl in town who swore one of the five had hurt her, nothing would happen. Every single one of them walked around like they didn’t have a single care in the world—and I guess in a way, they didn’t. They were rich as sin, and had mommy and daddy’s money to get them out of any kind of serious trouble.
It was obvious I didn’t know much about them. We didn’t hang in the same circles and certainly, they didn’t even know of my existence. But what I do know is, they’re trouble, wrapped in beautiful packaging.
Want to know how I know they’re trouble? Madison has been trying to get on their radar for years. One night. She just wants one night with any of the relentless Savages who run this town, but I guess none of them have shown any interest in her yet. They’re selective assholes who think they’re more powerfulthan God.
I’m not sure what that says about them—the devils—for turning her down the way they have.
I swallow the sudden lump in my throat and force my legs to walk over to them without any drunken mishaps. Of course, that’s too much to ask for. The tip of my beat-up, white Converse snags on air, I guess, and my body hurtles forward. Dizzying colors blur before my eyes—a blend of angry orange, vivid green, and hazy brown. I see the ground coming toward me, but I can’t seem to stop it from happening. Suddenly, strong, warm arms wrap around me, and I’m no longer falling.
“Whoa.” The voice chuckles. “Take it easy. You all right, sweetheart?”
I look up, my vision splitting on the figure holding me. There’s two of him standing before me and I can’t seem to focus my gaze, no matter how hard I try. Trent Ainsworth is gorgeous in his own right, but up close and personal, he’s a living god. His face breaks out into a grin as he stares down at me and brushes a stray hair off my round face. His finger grazes my freckled cheek, and my heart lurches in my throat.
Holy crap.
“What’s a beautiful girl like you doing out here alone?” His pretty eyes search my face for answers.
Beautiful? Did he really call me beautiful?
Blushing under the weight of his gaze, I fumble with my words.
“I-I’m not … b-beautiful … you’re not … this isn’t … a-alone …”
When Trent chuckles, I’m distracted by the bobbing of his Adam’s apple, but he helps me stand straight, and I notice his hand lingers on my wrist. He’s something larger than life, with the way his whole hand engulfs my arm. I hear his friends, the rest of the hellish crew, laughing behind him, probably at me, but I don’t care.
He thinks I’m beautiful?
He noticed me?
How did this gorgeous guy notice me before my sister? It’s almost too good to be true.
Trent glances over his shoulder, and his buddies laugh some more before he turns back toward me. “Want to get away from these assholes and talk?” he offers. I dart my gaze over his shoulder and realize I’m nodding as I stare at his formidable friends.
“C’mon,” he says. Wrapping his hand firmly around my wrist, he leads me away from the fire and deeper into the woods. A voice in my head screams not to follow him, but I do. This is the one thing I can have that Madison hasn’t had. Trent Ainsworth.
He noticed me. He wants to talk to me. Alone.
Me.
Trent surprises me by stopping just before the entrance into the woods, so we still have a clear view of his friends and the rest of the party.
“Finally,” he breathes, resting his back up against the trunk of one of the many redwoods here. “It feels good to get a little peace and quiet. I was getting tired of pretending to have fun.”
His words make me smile. My lips itch to spread across my face, showcasing my braces, but I fight it, opting for a closed-lip smile instead.
He was pretending, too?
“So who did you come here with?” he asks. I realize he’s trying to have a conversation with me.
I clear my throat, moving my foot through the dirt anxiously. “My friend Winnie dragged me here. This is the first party I’ve ever been to, and honestly, I’m not all that impressed.”
Trent laughs. It’s deep and husky and so freaking hot.
“Ouch. You realize the guys and I put this together?”
My cheeks heat in embarrassment. Crap. “I’m sorry,” I say, cringing.
He chuckles again. “Don’t apologize. You’re being honest, and I like that. Not many girls are honest nowadays.” His eyes roam my face, and my heart continues its quest to burst out of my chest. His gaze drops down to the cup I realize I still have clutched in my hand. “First time drinking?”
“How can you tell?” I tease, my lips twisting with amusement.
He shrugs. “You have this pretty flush on your skin. It looks cute.”
I dart my gaze down to my feet, trying like hell to hide how happy his comment makes me.
“Hey,” he says. His hand lightly touches my chin, forcing my gaze back to his. Before my eyes settle on his, I take in the tattoo on his inner forearm—the one he and all his friends have. It’s a skeleton key with an actual skull outlined and an eye with a triangle around it that rests on the skull’s forehead. It’s kind of creepy. “Don’t hide from me, Mackenzie. You’re absolutely gorgeous.”
My breath catches as I stare into his eyes and watch as they fill with heat. So much heat, I feel something stirring in my stomach. The sensation is one I’m not familiar with.
Wait—he knows my name? I don’t have the guts to ask how he knows my name. He’s one of the elite. I’m sure they know everything about everyone here in Ferndale.
“Thank you,” I breathe out in a rush of air. Trent glances toward the bonfire, and I try to follow his gaze, but his next words have my heart seizing in my chest.
“Can I kiss you, Mackenzie?” His hands are already on my face, pulling my mouth toward his, and his body is already leaning closer. My nipples pebble against the material of my bra. It’s such a foreign sensation, one I’ve never experienced before, yet I find it titillating all the same. I say yes before I can think better of it.
His lips graze mine lightly at first. I’m so flustered and buzzed, I let out an embarrassing moan into his mouth when he deepens the kiss. I taste him—a mixture of beer and gum. I feel his hands gliding along my overheated skin, and I can smell the burning logs from the bonfire. I can vaguely make out the sound of hollering laughter, but I can’t tell where it’s coming from, and the truth is, I don’t even care. His hands find their place along my hips and slide down my thick thighs, toying with the material of my sweater dress. When his fingers make contact with the skin of my inner thigh, I slip my arms around his neck, and I kiss him. Hard.