Read Online Damage Me (Crystal Gulf Book 2) by Shana Vanterpool - Free Book Online Page A

giving it to me anyway as I huffed in irritation. “Stay in the house. Don’t go in the garage. Don’t drink anything unless you open it. And remember something.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket, tapped away, and then held it up. Bach’s name was on the screen. “I can call him in a second.”
    The music was so loud I had to lean in to hear him. There were people drinking beer and picking at a pizza on the counter. The women were dressed like me and the men like Jona, jeans and sin, tattoos and alcohol. I looked away for a safe spot, landing on the fridge with a boob magnet. It was better than naked boobs. Which I feared I could locate without a problem.
    “Bach isn’t my boss.”
    “Then I am.” Something over my shoulder caught his attention before he could continue. “Justine!” he shouted.
    I looked over to find a breathtaking woman approaching us. She was dark hair, dark brown eyes, and confidence. Her skin was slightly tanned from the summer heat, and her lips were the color of bubble gum. When I turned back to Jona, his mouth was hanging open.
    “What, asshat?”
    He grinned suddenly, a much more natural smile than any he’d given the girls or me. He leaned down and kissed her cheek, putting his mouth over her ear. As he talked, Justine’s eyes widened with shock, and then a naughty smile lifted her pink lips as her eyes landed on me.
    “No way,” she said, laughing. “Yeah, sure. What are you going to be doing?”
    Jona looked away, and I caught the slight tightening of her eyes. “I’ve got to finish getting dressed. She’s all yours, Angel.” He nudged me forward closer to her and then left the room.
    Justine glared at his retreating back before looking at me. “You look just like him. It’s crazy.”
    “I don’t need a babysitter.”
    “I agree. If you want to party, by all means, party. You want to party, don’t you, Little Miss Perfect The Second? Piss brother Bach off?”
    “Who’s the first?” I wondered, hugging myself. A guy slipped around me, eyeing my legs. I looked away, shrinking from his laughter.
    “Harley.” Her expression changed, saddening almost. “I could use a new Little Miss Perfect. You want a drink?”
    “Was Harley your friend?”
    She shrugged. “Harley’s, you know, out being perfect. She doesn’t have time for anyone but Bach. Yes, or no?”
    “Umm …” I panicked. I didn’t want to drink. “I’m driving.”
    “You can sleep here. There’s a spare bedroom upstairs.”
    “I don’t really drink.” Besides a few sips of Mom’s wine when she wasn’t looking when I was a child, I’d found no joy in consuming alcohol.
    She chuckled and shook her head. “No wonder Bach kept you a secret. You’re a snooze fest.”
    Is that why Bach pushed me away? Because I was boring? Nothing like the people he wanted to know?
    How dare him.
    I wanted him; he knew the part of me I never got to meet. He was my only shot at ever knowing what it felt like to be whole. To learn he was ashamed of me, hurt on a level I’d never felt. My heart burned, and my body heat flared with the rush of my anger.
    I could show him. I could be just like these people.
    I could be a wolf.
    “Okay. I want a drink.”
    Justine grinned darkly, pleased by my act of defiance. “That’s right. When it comes to Bach, you have to beat him at his own game. We’re winning tonight.”
    She led me into the wolves’ den.
     
     
    ***
     
     
    My first shot burned like fire.
    Justine gave me a grin that was less proud, but more determined, as if ridding me of the things Bach did not like was her mission.
    It tasted like bitter flames sliding down my throat. I tried to spit it out, but she shook her head, glaring as the men in the garage piled around us. I was overwhelmed. There was rap music and vodka, men and their eyes, and then there was Justine, shoving shots in my hand, urging me away from the girl Bach didn’t want.
    I’d spent my life craving the other side of my family tree.