Free Damage Me (Crystal Gulf Book 2) by Shana Vanterpool

away from him.
    So Bach didn’t want me. My father didn’t want me. I’d just learn to deal with it. This house, these people, they weren’t where I was supposed to be. An uneasy pressure chased me out of the garage. I shoved my way through the bodies, wobbling in my heels. I opened a door and squealed. There were two people, naked from the waist down in the closet. The man was thrusting into her, and she had her head tossed back, her eyes glassy as they met mine. She grinned, and I covered my eyes, slamming the door shut. “Ugh!” I kept going, searching until I found a bathroom. Once inside, I locked myself in and sank down on the filthy toilet.
    I had to get out of here. I could always walk home and come back to get my car tomorrow. Someone pounded on the door, screaming about how badly they wanted to drain their anaconda. I ignored them and looked around, heart pounding for reasons I didn’t understand. It smelled like pee, and the ground was dirty, with panties on the floor and condom wrappers. I gagged, covering my mouth with my hand. One of the condoms were pink and covered in white slime. Tears pricked my eyes. I wanted out of here. Under Jasmine’s order I’d left my purse at home. My cell was on my bed in my purse, and I was all by myself in a wolves’ den for reasons that didn’t mean anything anymore.
    Covering my head in my hands, I tried to breathe in and out, pulling peace from within.
    There was another knock on the door. “Hillary?”
    I looked up at the sound of Zane’s voice. “What?”
    “Come out, sweetheart. There’s a line.”
    “Just a minute.” I eyed the rusted faucet and the sludge around the sink, and thought better of watching my hands. Taking a deep breath, I opened the door, finding Zane waiting with my beer still in hand. I smiled shyly and took it when he handed it to me. “Thanks.”
    “Of course.” He grabbed my upper arm and led me away from the line of glaring people. “Let’s go somewhere quiet. Drink your beer, sweetheart. You look thirsty.”
    I wondered what that looked like. Were my lips chapped? I brought the beer to my lips and took a sip as he led us by the stairs. “Can we go to Jona’s room?” For some reason I wanted Jona. He had an air about him, but he knew Bach, and that meant deep down Jona wasn’t all bad.
    “Sure.” He pulled me along after him. “How old are you?”
    “Eighteen,” I supplied, taking another drink. The taste had changed. It was chalkier and salty, less citrusy. I guess that happened when a beer sat. It was warm also, tasting like musky chalky urine. I made a face and forced it down. “How old are you?” I asked at the top of the stairs, wanting him to let my arm go.
    “Old enough. You know you’re tempting me right? Those innocent eyes in those sexy clothes? Drink your beer. It’s gross once it’s warm.”
    An uncomfortable blush crept over me, and beneath that I wanted free. I pulled on my arm and stepped back, eyes on Jona’s door as I realized in disappointment that it was open. “Jona?” I called, stepping inside his empty room.
    “He’s probably downstairs. It’s so loud. Why don’t we sit in here?” Zane brushed against me, silver gaze intent as he blocked the door.
    I didn’t want to be alone with Zane or for him to get the wrong idea. “I’d rather go back downstairs.”
    “Don’t you want to talk to me?” He smiled a little. “I don’t bite, you know.”
    I didn’t believe him. Something inside told me he bit. And when he did it was hard. “We can talk downstairs.”
    He shook his head and shoved my hip, moving me inside. He grabbed the door and closed it, turning the lock in one swift motion. If I hadn’t been watching his hand, I wouldn’t have even known he locked the door. He did it so fast, as if he were more accustomed to locking people in rather than letting them out.
    “We’re talking in here.” His tone hardened. He pointed to the bed. “Sit. Relax. You seem uncomfortable being