See No Evil

In any event, it only bought me some extra time. Whether my heart is in it or not, I’ll eventually end up doing what they want. My father will be happy, Momma will be happy, and I’ll have them both out of my hair and not catch shit for doing my own thing as a hobby. I guess that will have to be enough. No one ever said you were born to be a hundred percent happy, right? You do what you have to and grab whatever joy you can in the little moments afforded to you.

I crack my knuckles, my wayward thoughts sullying my mood further. But thankfully, I don’t have time to dwell on things I can’t change, since Easton nudges me on the shoulder, grabbing my attention back to my current fucked-up predicament.

“There she is. That’s your girl,” he a

I’m about to correct, yet again, his absurd comment, but my coherent thoughts leave me when my eyes lock on the girl I’ve been destined to ruin.

Standing bored while taking the order from the table in front of us, she is exactly what I suspected a Southie-born girl to look like—only so much more. Her bluish-black hair is purposely wrapped in a messy bun to proudly showcase her numerous earrings on both lobes and the barbell piercing on her brow. The way she’s playing with her tongue as she writes down her patron’s order, tells me she’s got more piercings hidden on her body—the only thing she’s probably hiding since most of everything else is on display.

She’s got on a short, ripped-up top with a cut so deep at the front that you can’t help but stare at the red lace holding up two impressive, creamy breasts. The black shorts she’s got on barely covers her ass, but I think that’s intentional, so everyone can appreciate the red and black phoenix tattooed on her thick thigh.

All of her is too much. Too loud, and definitely too in your face. She’s nothing like the thin-twig debutant girls I’ve grown accustomed to. Not in the slightest. She’s all luscious curves, huge tits, and an even bigger ass. It’s like she was force-fed southern-fried cooking all her life while listening to Metallica—big, loud, and mean. Yep, that is the perfect description of Stone Be

Even though she’s probably around five-foot-five, compared to my six-foot-four, she looks like she’d be able to swallow me in and spit me out with a fucking smile on her face. She’s not some wallflower that blossomed in the Southside dirt. She’s a force of nature who made that roughneck of the woods her bitch.

I’m so fucking screwed.

“She’s cute,” Easton has the audacity to say after taking stock of all of her features.

“You have got to be shitting me?” I bark out, outraged.

“What? She is. Actually, she’s more than cute. She’s fucking hot.” He smirks, going for another once-over of all her tempting curves.

I’m tempted to smack him upside the head for his constant staring at her thick thighs and small waist, but I play the indifference card instead.

“If I were looking for Marilyn Manson’s bride to be, then yeah, I’m sure she’d fit the bill.”

Easton stops his flagrant ogling of Stone, snapping his head toward me, his a

“Stop being such a prejudiced douche, Fi

“I’m not being judgmental or anything. I just don’t like being with a girl who looks like she might cut my balls off rather than suck them,” I grumble, tapping my foot repeatedly on the floor to show my disgruntlement.

“Well, make sure her tongue doesn’t have any sharp objects then,” he teases me, cocking a brow and waving the girl in question over to our table. “However, you should be so lucky to have that mouth anywhere near your junk, you dick,” he hushes beneath his breath, all the while smiling over at Stone as she heads in our direction.

I stew in my own misery when she waltzes over with that same bored expression married to her lips, but not to her stu

Tattoos, thick thighs, and pretty eyes.

A lethal combination that ensures I’m fucked.

“Are you boys lost?” she asks right off the bat, not even taking those stellar eyes off her notepad to look at us.

“Excuse me?” I grunt.

“I said, are you lost? Your kind usually don’t show up around these parts,” she spews, this time making direct eye contact with me, not one bit intimidated by the pissed-off glower I’m giving her.

“Our kind?” I cross my arms over my chest. “And what exactly would our kind be?” I challenge.

She huffs out, looking even more bored with this conversation than before. She taps her pencil on the notepad, taking me in from head to toe as if making an inventory of all my flaws. I try to keep as rigidly still as I can, even though her scrutinizing glare is making me anxious.

Being the captain of the Richfield football team, I’m used to getting attention from the opposite sex. Having girls look you up and down like you’re either their next meal or their ticket out of here seems to be part of the job description. But Stone’s piercing emeralds don’t have that flicker of lust in her eyes, nor greed. Quite the contrary. They look like I’m just as nasty as the cockroaches ru

“Cat got your tongue?” I provoke. “Just what did you mean about our kind, little girl?”

She lets out a scoff and bites the tip of her pencil, throwing a flash of silver inside her mouth, confirming my suspicion the girl has more hardware on her.

“Oh, you know. Spoiled, rich, pretty boys who think ‘fun’ is throwing a ball and getting beat up by sweaty guys twice their size,” she mocks, directing her offensive remark at me, seeing as Easton is not the athletic type. The only sport he’s into is fucking, so that doesn’t count.

“Twice my size?! Take a good, hard look at me. I doubt you’ve met many men as big as me,” I defend with a snarl.

“Or with the same inflated ego, I’m sure. So, what do you want? I got better shit to do than spend my time here talking to you, quarterback.”

Before I have time to come up with a proper comeback, Easton steals my limelight and orders two beers. She wiggles her brow at me once again before turning around, shaking that damn fine ass in my face as she sashays over to the bar.

“How the fuck am I going to befriend that?” I belt out, making sure the bane of my existence is out of earshot.

“There are plenty of ways you could do it. You don’t need to be her BFF, Fi

“Oh, no? And how do you propose I do that, Einstein?”

He leans back on his chair, his eyes following Stone behind the bar counter as she fetches our order.

“Easy. Seduce her.”

“You have got to be kidding.” I choke, my eyes bugging out of my head at his proposal.

“Nope. You want easy, right? Then use your Walker charm, if you can find it, to get into her bed. And make sure to stay there long enough to get your next order from The Society. Shouldn’t be too hard for ya, right champ?” he jokes, patting me on the back to antagonize me further.

“I hate you. You know that, right?”