Lifting up my arms, I bang my head to the lyrics, unashamed of going crazy, because so is everyone else, and I relax.
Finally, I relax.
Until I open my eyes.
Jake stands paused in the middle of raising his beer to his mouth, watching me at the bar. His lips are parted slightly, and he looks like he isn’t breathing. My heart drops into my stomach, and I slow for a moment, taking a mental inventory to make sure he’s not mad.
I’m not dancing with a local boy.
I’m not naked.
I came with three male relatives, so I’m not unarmed or unprotected.
He’s not angry, I don’t think. He’s just… watching me.
A flutter hits my stomach.
Shifting my gaze, I see Noah at the pool table with some buddies, taking a shot of something brown, his eyes immediately turning back over to me as if he’s been keeping an eye out the whole time. His gaze is soft, but his lips are tight.
A smile tugs at my mouth, but I don’t let it out.
The bride-to-be wraps an arm around my waist, and I hang my arm over another woman’s shoulder, and we sing and dance, but every smile I wear is for someone else. Everything I do I hope Jake sees, and every move I make I hope Noah is watching.
I love their attention.
As the song ends, I laugh with the girls, all of us dispersing as a slow tune starts, and I turn around to head to my uncle at the bar.
But as soon as I spin around, someone is there, and I look up to see Terrance Holcomb.
“Hey, California,” he says, slipping his hands to my waist.
I start to push him away. “Off.”
Jake wouldn’t lie about that clubhouse this guy keeps. I don’t want anything to do with him.
“You’ve met my friend?” he asks.
Huh?
At that moment, someone comes up behind me, and I turn my head to see Cici at my back. She holds my hips, too, laying her chin on my shoulder.
They’re friends? How does that work with Kaleb in the picture?
I fight their hold, trying not to make a scene, but every time I get loose, they reclaim their hold again.
I look around for Jake or Noah, but we’re surrounded by people all of a sudden. Lots of people.
Men.
What the hell?
All the ladies on the dance floor are gone, now replaced with Holcomb’s Motocross buddies.
Realization dawns. We’re being surrounded by cover, so Jake and Noah can’t see.
“What if I told you that Kaleb did hit me in the cave that day?” Cici says behind me. “Would you still want to spend the winter locked up on the peak with him?”
I pause, stunned. What?
“And what if I told you,” Cici continues, tracing the spaghetti strap of my dress, “that he can’t wait to make you bleed, too, and he’s just biding his time until you have no means of escaping him.”
My mouth goes dry, and my skin crawls. Kaleb…
Kaleb isn’t like that.
Holcomb shakes his head, smirking. “They warned you about me, didn’t they?” he says. “You should’ve been warned about them. They only wanted you because you’re rich and beautiful. Think of what your money will do for Van der Berg Extreme and what your body will do in their beds.”
I shake my head. No.
“Noah won’t need a sponsor,” Holcomb goes on. “He’ll have you. More money than the rest of us could ever raise, and he won’t have to jump through hoops to get it, because you love him and you’ll let him have anything he wants.”
“No.”
“None of them have touched you, then?” Cici asks.
I clench my teeth. But the wheels turn anyway, remembering Kaleb and me on the hood of the car and Jake and me in the kitchen.
“You haven’t felt threatened?” Holcomb presses. “Not once?”
If you had been dancing with a man like that in public, I would’ve taken you over my knee.
I breathe hard and shallow, recalling my uncle’s threat all those weeks ago. Cici probably heard him when he pulled me away and told Terrance.
“And now you’re eighteen,” Terrance adds. “Perfectly legal in all fifty states, just in time for the snow.”
Words lodge in my throat, and I yank my arms free of them.
“They don’t really like you,” Cici tells me. “You’re useful. Just like the rest of us who service them.” She rubs circles on my belly as her head remains on my shoulder. “And when they fuck you pregnant, they’ll control you—and your bank account—forever.”
No. They’re my home. The peak is my home.