Prologue
Ashley
The door slams against the wall as I stumble into my bedroom on shaky legs. Reaching behind me, I shove it closed, instantly muting the sounds of the party raging downstairs in the lower level of the townhome I share with my boyfriend, Chad, and my loathsome stepbrother, Ares. The place is packed with coeds, jocks, members of frats and sororities, and our personal friends from Lowell University. Along with the degenerates Ares is hanging out with tonight.
The room spins, and I sway a little as I hold on to the wall while removing my heels and kicking them away. I’m not feeling so hot as I flop down on my king-sized bed, staring up at the stark white ceiling, wondering why I thought it was a good idea to drink so much.
Usually, I am pretty smart when it comes to alcohol. Drinking enough to generate a nice buzz without losing control of myself.
Tonight is different.
Tonight, I am trying to forget my broken heart.
Seeing him walk through the door withherdraped all over him sent me over the edge. I knew I would never survive the party unless I blotted it all out and numbed myself to the harsh reality of my current existence.
Pain slices across my chest as intense as if someone has plunged a knife into my flesh.
A lone sob travels up my throat, surging for freedom, and it’s an anguished, strangled, desolate sound as it rips from my lips.
Fuck, it hurts.
It’s not getting any easier.
Turning on my side, I pull my knees up to my chest and wrap my arms around myself as if that will keep me together.
Everything is turning to shit, and I seem powerless to stop it.
The more I learn about the secret world of The Luminaries, the more I lose control of my life. Sometimes, I wish I had a time machine so I could go back to senior year of high school and warn myself of the danger lying in wait for me when I started college.
To think my biggest worry coming here was extracting Chad from the deal he made with The Sainthood.
Gang warfare is a normal way of life in this part of California, but The Luminaries make The Sainthood and The Bulls look like kindergarteners.
What a fucking joke.
It’s not true what they say—ignoranceisn’tbliss.
Most everyone in my life was hiding huge secrets from me, and I was walking around, living a lie, like the biggest fool.
I have been ignorant my entire life, largely thanks to my mom and her misguided sense of protection. Blood boils under my skin as Pamela’s image surfaces in my mind’s eye. I dig my nails into my knees, enraged as I think of all the ways she has fucked up my life. Some mother she turned out to be.
Music blares, hurting my ears, and a burst of light from the hallway has me squinting in the darkened room as the door swings open. I glance over, scrubbing my eyes as a tall, muscular form kicks the door shut with a booted foot before stalking toward me. His familiar hulking frame is a shadowy blur as he strides across the room.
“I want to be alone, Chad,” I say, my words slurring slightly. I angle my face away without looking at him. Things have been increasingly strained between me and my boyfriend since arriving at Lowell University a few months ago.
Especially these past few weeks.
I’m not the only one who has lost Jase. I met Jase through Chad, and it was my boyfriend who proposed I take his best friend as my lover too. They have been best friends and teammates on the football team for years. This is the first time they have stopped talking to one another, and I’m not sure if the damage to their relationship can ever be repaired.
The bed dips as Chad climbs up behind me, ignoring my wishes, as per usual. Warmth coats my back as he presses his long, hard, ripped body up against me. Firm fingers land on my hip as he thrusts his hard-on against my ass. Lust stirs low in my belly despite my frustration and melancholy. Pushing my hair aside, he plants a slew of drugging kisses along my neck, and my skin tingles from his addictive touch. I close my eyes, and my drunken brain conjures my dreams to life. I imagine it’s Jase touching me, eliciting little moans and whimpers, and dampening my panties as Chad’s hands begin to wander.
Shoving those images aside, I am immediately remorseful and shamefaced. Chad doesn’t deserve to have me check out on him, no matter how fragile our relationship is right now. We haven’t had sex in weeks, and I need to feel closer to my boyfriend.
I can’t lose him too.
Notes of citrus, spice, and sandalwood tickle my nostrils as he moves, and the heady scent of his cologne hits me like a direct stab to the heart.
I would know that scent anywhere.
