It’s a little complicated, to say the least. But then again, most relationships don’t start with a kidnapping.
Cal and I have mostly stayed out of Rook’s hair while he and Kylie figure shit out. We’ve focused on keeping our ears to the ground, hoping to devise some sort of preemptive move when the elites finally get around to hunting and killing us for our crimes.
Right now, I’m supposed to be with Cal in Concordia—our hometown and the place we will most likely never be able to go back to after having taken Kylie Moon.
Instead, I’m just outside Boston, in a wealthy suburb, sitting across the street from a shopping district that looks like money built it just to prove it could. Pristine walking paths with perfect landscaping and storefronts that wouldn’t dare advertise a sale. Only full price here, baby. Just luxury brands that expect you to drop five figures on a fucking pair of shoes.
Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if the goddamn sidewalks are heated.
Shesteps out of one of the stores with two shopping bags in her hands and sunlight bouncing off her dark brown hair.
My chest tightens. And my eyes fixate.
Fuck me. Why is she so goddamn beautiful?
Her name is Blair Windsor, and as of last night, she’s completely wrecked my fucking world without even saying a word to me.
Her mother, Devney Windsor, follows behind her, and her teenage sister, Bonnie Windsor, appears bored.
The knot in my stomach grows.
I definitely shouldn’t be here. I should be in Concordia where Calloway is, keeping my ears open and making sure no one’s sniffing too close to Worcester.
Instead, I’m watching a rich girl buy clothes with the sole purpose of “impressing her future vampire husband.” A vampire husband who only exists in her mind, that is. The elites don’tgive a shit about wedding bells. They just want blood. And to breed.
My phone buzzes.
Cal: What are you doing right now?
I glance at the message and then at Blair across the street.
Me: Just a little surveillance.
It’s not a lie. I mean, I am surveilling…her.
Blair laughs at something her little sister Bonnie says, nudging her gently with her elbow. Clearly, everything is peachy keen fucking jelly bean in her mind. She’s going to find her prince charming vampire and live happily ever after once she’s chosen by him at the Selection—or the “Choosing Ceremony,” as she’s eloquently dressed it up when talking about it with her mother.
Mind you, what Blair is excited about is not a choosing or a ceremony. It’s a fucking auction where rich, vile bloodsuckers pay for her blood, for her virginity, and for the right to do as they please—forher. Like she’s a damn Volkswagen.
There’s nothing ceremonial or romantic about it.
Also, seeing as the first time I laid eyes on Blair Windsor was less than twenty-four hours ago and I know her full name and everyone in her family’s names, I do realize I am well past stalker territory here.
Not to mention, the intense amount of eavesdropping I’ve been doing over the past two hours has given me a plethora of knowledge about Blair Windsor, and Google has certainly helped answer some of the questions I’ve had.
Blair Windsor is twenty-three years old.
Her father, Harry Windsor, is the CEO of a Fortune 500 company that sells medical devices, and he sits on several boards within the medical and tech communities. Her family isn’t just rich, butrich. She’s lived her entire life with a golden spoon in her pretty little mouth, and I couldn’t be further from the type of man she’s imagined in her mind.
I’m blue-collar, working class, and callused hands. To her, I’m probably no better than gum on the bottom of her shoe.
Unfortunately for me, I’m hopelessly locked in on her.
She’s my fucking fate.
And it’s really starting to make sense why Rook acted like a moron whenever Kylie was around.
Cal: Everything good?
