Chapter 20

15 years ago…

The digital clock on the stereo of my truck reminds me that I am going to be late to pick up my brother, if I can even call him that. We may live under the same roof, forced to call the same people Mom and Dad, but we are nothing alike.

Something he enjoys reminding me of daily. Mocking my conscience efforts to avoid socializing like most would avoid the plague. I can't help but find in person interactions to be incredibly fake, not to mention dull. When I'm sitting behind my computer, beneath a carefully curated veil is when I feel the most at ease. On the internet I can be whoever I want to be. I can speak my piece and then click off. Too bad I can't do that in real life, something

I am painfully reminded of, as I am now quickly approaching the Horseman's Diner. Already, dreading whatever conversation I will be cornered into the moment brother dearest steps foot in my truck.

The gravel from the partially paved parking lot crunches beneath the tires as I circle the lot, finding a place to park that will give me a view of the front entrance so I can see numb nuts when he gets out. As I park, turning the ignition off, my phone vibrates, rattling against the center console.

Reaching for it, my stomach drops. I have two new messages from Cam. Whenever Cam texts me, it's never good. Nothing about Cam is good.

Cam Moeder: Where are you?

Cam Moeder: We need to talk.

Me: Can't

Cam Moeder: Sorry, it doesn't work like that remember.

Me: I have to pick up the bro…REMEMBER

Cam Moeder: All caps? Real mature

Me: Never claimed to be. I have a minute before he comes outside, what is it?

Cam Moeder: This isn't the type of conversation I want to have on the phone.

Me: Got it…

I'm in the process of typing the second part of my message when a loud bang sounds from the entrance of the diner. I look up from my phone, expecting to see my brother walking out, but to my surprise, standing beneath the tacky fluorescent bulbs that flicker on the Horseman Diner's sign, is the most beautiful, most angry looking girl I've ever seen.

She stops at the top of the cement steps, pinching her phone between her cheek and shoulder. Running a hand through her dark as night hair, she brushes the hair that rests on her brows, moving it to the side, revealing a smoldering set of dark eyes centered upon a defined and striking face. Suddenly unable to blink and risk losing a second of this beautiful creature within my view, I study the way her pouty lips balance an unlit cigarette in her mouth while she carries on what appears to be a contentious conversation with whoever is on the other line.

Bringing the lighter to the tip of her cigarette, she quickly lights it and the plume of smoke that follows from her first drag momentarily clouds my view of her, instantly making me feel desperate as the seconds it will take for it to dissipate pass.

Curious as to what has her so worked up as her head begins to bob each time she speaks into the phone, I lower the car window. The moment the glass descends, letting in the brisk spring air, my ears are met with what sounds like what will be my newest obsession. A feisty yet delicate feminine voice emerges, echoing amongst the open air of the parking lot. Each syllable and murmur that falls from her lips feels like a sultry beckoning.

She hangs up the phone and continues to smoke her cigarette as she moves from the steps of the diner across the parking lot. As she walks in front of where I'm parked, unaware of the way I'm lurking, my gaze is met with a perfectly perky and round ass that jiggles against the black leggings she is wearing. I've always considered myself to be more of an ass man. That's not to say of course that I will neglect a nice pair of tits, and from what I can see, she has a nice set of them also but a big, juicy ass like hers has me practically foaming at the mouth. My cock is becoming more and more rigid with every step she takes, wishing I could get out of this truck and spank that ass that's just begging for my fucking hand.

God damn it Maddox, chill, you don't even know this girl…yet.

Held captive by her every movement, I become lost in a feral trance watching her stride continue until it stops at the driver side of a shiny red Mitsubishi Eclipse. She stands there a moment more, savoring the last of her smoke before she flicks it onto the pavement. Grinding her Vans on the dwindling cigarette butt, she presses her weight into it before lifting her gaze my way.

Shit. I should probably stop staring but I can't. I don't even think I'm capable of blinking right now. Her face has a devious expression on it, a faint smirk settled on her red painted lips. She looks like everything I have always wanted but never thought existed.

I wonder if she sees me staring at her. I watch as suddenly the hand that was just in possession of the cigarette that she tossed on the ground is now lifted with her middle finger raised.

My brows raise in confusion. Did she see me gawking and she's flipping me off? I mean I don't blame her but fuck if it's not hot as hell seeing her mood shift, yet again, into anger, even if it's directed at me.

Lifting her other hand, with the same distinct "fuck you" in the air, she keeps them upright until she swats both hands down, shaking her head before she slips into her car. Immediately I'm tempted to fucking ditch my brother and follow her home but instead I take mental note of her license plate. That way once I get home, I can gain a little intel on who it's registered to. Though as she backs out of her parking spot, I notice a decal on the bumper. "Horror Whores." Interesting. Not sure exactly what that means but I take note of that as well, because anything I can use to help me learn more about my mystery girl, is welcomed.

I squint, trying to see if there is anything else on the bumper sticker when an irritatingly familiar voice followed by an equally irritating pounding thuds from the passenger window.

"Hey, let me in," my brother shouts. "Now, Maddox!"

"It's unlocked," I bite.

He opens the door, letting in an unpleasant smell of stale booze with him. Piling into the passenger seat, he says something, but I'm not paying attention. I can't stop staring at her car as she drives to the end of the parking lot, blinker flashing, waiting to turn.

"Don't even think about it," my brother says.

"What?" I mumble, shifting the truck into drive.

"She's bad news," he warns.

As if that deters me. If anything, that only makes me want to know her more.

"Who?" I ask.

"Not to mention out of your league" he adds, in his usual condescending tone.

My fingers grip the steering wheel tighter, knuckles beginning to whiten.

"Who is she?" I ask again, louder this time.

"I said forget it. She's out of your league, bro."

Ha, hot and out of my league? Don't tempt me with a good time. First order of business after I drop him off and call Cam is to figure out what this Horror Whores thing is so I can use it as my way to get closer to her.

Slamming my foot on the brake, he slides forward.

"What the fuck, Maddox!" he shouts.

I watch her car drive away as I turn to him. "I asked who she is. Now tell me." I command, puffing my chest out, reminding him that if it weren't for mom chiming in my ear daily to "play nice," I would fucking crush him.

He raises his hands up with flat palms in defeat. "Jesus Christ, you really are mad."

I grit my jaw, releasing an audible roar.

"Sorry, I'm just joking," he begins, even though I know he's not.

"Name," I mutter, like a possessive caveman.

"Blair Van Tassel."

Hmm, Van Tassel, how delightfully cliché. Living in Sleepy Hollow with a last name like Van Tassel is just about as cliche as living here with the last name Crane.

I've never been one to believe in something so delusional and trivial as fate, but this feeling that lingers in my veins, settling itself into my chest, makes me think that I saw her tonight for a reason. I have a feeling that Blair Van Tassel will not only be my next pursuit, but the last victim of my forced affections.