Broken Bond by C.J. Primer

VANESSA

I’ve never been a big drinker, but if all alcohol was masked by the taste of cherry Kool-Aid, I’d probably be a lush. I’m a big fan of cherry anything. Cherry lip gloss, cherry gum… even just straight-up maraschino cherries from the garnish tray at the bar where I work. I’m not sure what else is in this jungle juice, but it’s officially my new favorite drink.

Vienna has vacated her spot beside me in favor of joining Levi on the other side of the couch, and a blonde guy slips in to steal her place, tapping my cup with his own. “Want a refill?”

I turn to meet his hazel eyes, giving a little shake of my head. “Nah, I should probably pace myself,” I say, all too aware of how easily the first half of this drink has gone down. “I’m driving.”

“Fair enough,” he replies easily, reclining back on the couch and stretching his arms, not so subtly propping one onto the top of the cushion behind me. It’d be a smooth move if he wasn’t so painfully obvious about it. “I’m Miles, by the way.”

“Nessa,” I smile, nodding politely. Miles is cute in a boy-next-door type of way, but compared to his friend, it isn’t enough to hold my attention. I find myself swinging my gaze back to the boy seated on my left, my eyes catching with his.

I’ve never met anyone quite like Callum before. He’s got this beautiful, haunted quality to him that calls to me from behind those blue-green eyes; a dangerous allure that pulls me in a little bit more with every glance.

It doesn’t hurt that he’s ridiculously good looking, too. His jawline is so sharp that it looks like it was cut from stone, his roguish features startlingly symmetrical. His light brown hair is cropped close on the sides and longer on top, an errant strand flopping down over his brow carelessly. Callum is classically handsome, but he’s not a typical pretty-boy. There’s something grittier about him; something dark and mysterious. Something that excites me.

I should probably stop checking him out so obviously, especially when he’s looking back at me like he wants to eat me alive.

Should that frighten me?

Probably. It doesn’t, though. I’m more curious than anything.

“Don’t mind Miles, he just assumes everyone’s a degenerate like him,” Callum snickers, looking past me to throw his friend a mocking smirk.

Miles rolls his eyes, unphased. “And you’re the picture of an upstanding citizen, right?” he tosses back as he drops his hand to my bare shoulder, his fingertips brushing my skin. “I’m surprised this guy hasn’t scared you off yet,” he mutters, leaning in closer.

Ugh, I hate when guys try to get handsy with me right off the bat. They often mistake my friendliness for interest, then accuse me of being a tease when I shut them down. Classic male sense of entitlement. I subtly shrug Miles’ hand off of my shoulder as my gaze flickers back toward Cal. “Guess I don’t scare easy.”

Our eyes meet, something passing between us while Callum’s lips curl into a sinister grin. “Lucky me.”

My heart pounds faster.

He doesn’t have any shortage of confidence, that’s for sure. I roll my eyes, chuckling to myself as I take another sip of my drink, savoring the sweet cherry flavor on my tongue.

Levi was right; this juice concoction is definitely dangerous.

The music switches to a bass-heavy Rihanna song and Cal lets out an audible groan, a hand coming to his temple. “Jesus, who’s running the music tonight?” he complains aloud.

His friends seem too preoccupied with their own conversations to respond, so I guess I’ll bite. “What’s wrong with this song?” I query, arching a brow. He levels me with a look of disapproval, but I just shrug him off, continuing. “I’ve heard it on the radio a few times, it’s catchy.”

taking another swig of vodka straight from the bottle. I don’t know how he can stomach that stuff- I still regret the sip that I took; it burned

classify as…” I lift

drops backwards, eyes drifting up to stare at the ceiling. “Something with actual instruments that wasn’t butchered to all hell

so you’re a metalhead,” I conclude with a

lifts his head, turning his gaze back on me and narrowing his

on,” I say with the wave of a

out, huh?” he grumbles, the corner of his mouth pulling into a

my lips, the alcohol already working its way into my system and lowering my inhibitions. “Hardly.

holding me captive. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen eyes like his before- in the dim lighting,

his tongue over his straight white teeth.

snort,

down my body, like he’s undressing me with his eyes. “Tell me I’m wrong, babe,” he purrs. “Tell me you’re

you’ve got me all wrong.” I push up from the couch, tossing my long hair over a shoulder and glancing around the

Miles hops up to stand beside me. “Change your mind about

shake

in disappointment, like it would’ve made his dang night to get me that drink. “Oh, uh, just down that hall,” he

the crowd. This place is packed, and finding my way through the sea of staggering bodies is akin to tackling an obstacle course. I almost catch an elbow to the face when I try to slip past a drunk girl dancing with her eyes closed, and narrowly save myself from falling when I stumble over someone else’s foot. It’s absolute chaos, but I can’t deny that I’m having fun. These guys sure know

ski lodge to extend a personal invitation to Vienna, it felt like it was kismet. Not only has it been way too long since either of us had a

I do, too.

quick pee and wash my hands, leaning over the sink to reapply my cherry red lipstick in the mirror as the voices of a couple girls waiting

seen her

I’ve been trying to get on Cal for months.

door of the bathroom. Maybe they’re talking

Callum Conway is scary as fuck. He’ll probably chop you up into little pieces and feed

can eat me,

cap back on my tube of lipstick, slipping it in my pocket and smoothing my hair in the

have to work on getting him away from that other girl first. Just point

for the knob and pulling the bathroom door open. As soon as they see me, the women waiting on the other side snap their mouths shut, the laughter dying on

Surprise, bitches.

out into the hall as they scramble backwards,

them a wink, my hair whipping behind me as I spin

as I retreat, but their trash-talking doesn’t phase me. Maybe it’d bother me if there was a modicum of truth to anything they said, but those girls don’t know me, and they couldn’t be more wrong. If

Kill them with kindness.

do. It’s difficult to

way through the crowd again, and when I return to the large U-shaped sectional at the far side of the living room, I pause for a moment in