Corrupt
(Sprache: Englisch)
"His name is Michael Crist. My boyfriend's older brother is handsome, strong, and completely terrifying. The star of his college's basketball team gone pro, he's more concerned with the dirt on his shoe than me. But I saw him. I heard him. The things that...
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"His name is Michael Crist. My boyfriend's older brother is handsome, strong, and completely terrifying. The star of his college's basketball team gone pro, he's more concerned with the dirt on his shoe than me. But I saw him. I heard him. The things that he did, and the deeds that he hid... For years, I bit my nails, unable to look away. Now, I'm in college, but I haven't stopped watching. The things I've seen aren't content to stay in my head anymore. Because he's finally noticed me. Her name is Erika Fane, but everyone calls her Rika. My brother's girlfriend looks down when I enter a room and stills when I am close. While I haven't had her body, I know that I have her mind. That's all I really want anyway. Until my brother leaves for the military, and I find Rika alone and unprotected in my city. The opportunity is too good to be true. Three years ago she put a few of my friends in prison, and now they're out. And now every last one of her nightmares will come true"--
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Chapter 1Erika
He won't be here.
There'd be no reason for him to show up at his brother's farewell party, since they couldn't stand each other, so . . .
No, he won't be here.
Pushing up the sleeves of my lightweight sweater, I hurried through the front door of the Crist house and speed-walked across the foyer, heading straight for the stairs.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spied the butler rounding the corner, but I didn't stop.
"Miss Fane!" he shouted after me. "You're very late."
"Yes, I know."
"Mrs. Crist has been looking for you," he pointed out.
I shot up my eyebrows and immediately stopped, turning around to peer at him over the railing.
"Has she really?" I eyed him with mock astonishment.
He thinned his lips, annoyed. "Well, she sent me to look for you."
I broke out in a smile and leaned over the banister, planting a quick kiss on his forehead.
"Well, I'm here," I assured him. "You can get back to your important duties now."
I turned and continued up the stairs, hearing the soft music coming from the party out on the terrace.
Yeah, I highly doubted Delia Crist, my mother's best friend and the matriarch of Thunder Bay, our small East Coast community, was spending her precious time looking for me herself.
"Your dress is on your bed!" he called after me as I walked around the corner.
I exhaled an aggravated sigh and powered down the dimly lit hallway, grumbling under my breath, "Thank you, Edward."
I didn't need a new dress. I already had several I'd worn only once, and at nineteen, I could definitely pick out my own clothes. Not that he would be here to see it anyway, and if he was, he wouldn't look at me.
No. I should be grateful. Mrs. Crist thought of me, and it was nice of her to make sure I'd have a dress to wear.
A light spatter of sand covered my legs and feet, and I reached down to grip the ends of my loose jean shorts, inventorying exactly how wet I'd gotten down at the beach. Would I need
... mehr
a shower?
No, I was already late. Screw it.
Diving into my room-the one the Crists' let me have for when I stayed the night-I spotted a sexy white cocktail dress lying on the bed, and I immediately began stripping.
The thin spaghetti straps did almost nothing to hold up my breasts, but it fit perfectly, molding to my body, and it made my skin look darker than it was. Mrs. Crist had awesome taste, and it was probably a good thing that she'd gotten me the dress, after all. I'd been too busy preparing to leave for school tomorrow to bother with what to wear tonight.
Dashing into the bathroom, I rinsed my calves and feet of the sand I'd picked up on my walk, and I quickly brushed out my long blond hair and applied a little lip gloss. I scurried back into the bedroom, grabbed the tan strappy heels she'd left by the dress, and ran back into the hallway and down the stairs.
Twelve hours to go.
My heart pumped harder and harder as I jogged through the foyer and toward the back of the house. This time tomorrow I'd be completely on my own-no mother, no Crists, no memories . . .
And most of all, I wouldn't have to wonder, hope, or dread that I'd see him. Or teeter on the edges of elation and agony when I did. Nope. I'd be able to hold out my arms and spin in a circle and not touch a single person I knew. Heat flowed through my chest, and I didn't know if it was fear or excitement, but I was ready.
Ready to leave it all behind. At least for a little while.
Veering to the right, I bypassed the kitchens-one for everyday use and another adjacent to it for caterers-as I headed for the solarium at the side of the large house. Opening the double doors, I stepped into the massive ceramic-tiled garden room, the walls and ceiling made entirely of glass, and instantly felt the rise in temperature. The thick, wet heat soaked through the fabric
No, I was already late. Screw it.
Diving into my room-the one the Crists' let me have for when I stayed the night-I spotted a sexy white cocktail dress lying on the bed, and I immediately began stripping.
The thin spaghetti straps did almost nothing to hold up my breasts, but it fit perfectly, molding to my body, and it made my skin look darker than it was. Mrs. Crist had awesome taste, and it was probably a good thing that she'd gotten me the dress, after all. I'd been too busy preparing to leave for school tomorrow to bother with what to wear tonight.
Dashing into the bathroom, I rinsed my calves and feet of the sand I'd picked up on my walk, and I quickly brushed out my long blond hair and applied a little lip gloss. I scurried back into the bedroom, grabbed the tan strappy heels she'd left by the dress, and ran back into the hallway and down the stairs.
Twelve hours to go.
My heart pumped harder and harder as I jogged through the foyer and toward the back of the house. This time tomorrow I'd be completely on my own-no mother, no Crists, no memories . . .
And most of all, I wouldn't have to wonder, hope, or dread that I'd see him. Or teeter on the edges of elation and agony when I did. Nope. I'd be able to hold out my arms and spin in a circle and not touch a single person I knew. Heat flowed through my chest, and I didn't know if it was fear or excitement, but I was ready.
Ready to leave it all behind. At least for a little while.
Veering to the right, I bypassed the kitchens-one for everyday use and another adjacent to it for caterers-as I headed for the solarium at the side of the large house. Opening the double doors, I stepped into the massive ceramic-tiled garden room, the walls and ceiling made entirely of glass, and instantly felt the rise in temperature. The thick, wet heat soaked through the fabric
... weniger
Autoren-Porträt von Penelope Douglas
Penelope Douglas is a New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal bestselling author. Their books have been translated into twenty languages and include the Fall Away series, the Hellbent series, the Devil’s Night series, and the stand-alones Misconduct, Punk 57, Birthday Girl, Credence, and Tryst Six Venom. They live in New England with their husband and daughter.
Bibliographische Angaben
- Autor: Penelope Douglas
- 2023, 496 Seiten, Maße: 13,5 x 20,2 cm, Kartoniert (TB), Englisch
- Verlag: Berkley
- ISBN-10: 0593642007
- ISBN-13: 9780593642009
- Erscheinungsdatum: 07.11.2023
Sprache:
Englisch
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