Broken Bond by C.J. Primer

2

VANESSA

I’ve never been a big drinker, but if all alcohol was masked by the taste of cherry Kool-Aid, I’d probably

be a lush. I’m a big fan of cherry anything. Cherry lip gloss, cherry gum… even just straight-up

maraschino cherries from the garnish tray at the bar where I work. I’m not sure what else is in this

jungle juice, but it’s officially my new favorite drink.

Vienna has vacated her spot beside me in favor of joining Levi on the other side of the couch, and a

blonde guy slips in to steal her place, tapping my cup with his own. “Want a refill?”

I turn to meet his hazel eyes, giving a little shake of my head. “Nah, I should probably pace myself,” I

say, all too aware of how easily the first half of this drink has gone down. “I’m driving.”

“Fair enough,” he replies easily, reclining back on the couch and stretching his arms, not so subtly

propping one onto the top of the cushion behind me. It’d be a smooth move if he wasn’t so painfully

obvious about it. “I’m Miles, by the way.”

“Nessa,” I smile, nodding politely. Miles is cute in a boy-next-door type of way, but compared to his

friend, it isn’t enough to hold my attention. I find myself swinging my gaze back to the boy seated on my

left, my eyes catching with his.

I’ve never met anyone quite like Callum before. He’s got this beautiful, haunted quality to him that calls

to me from behind those blue-green eyes; a dangerous allure that pulls me in a little bit more with every

glance.

It doesn’t hurt that he’s ridiculously good looking, too. His jawline is so sharp that it looks like it was cut

from stone, his roguish features startlingly symmetrical. His light brown hair is cropped close on the

sides and longer on top, an errant strand flopping down over his brow carelessly. Callum is classically

handsome, but he’s not a typical pretty-boy. There’s something grittier about him; something dark and

mysterious. Something that excites me.

I should probably stop checking him out so obviously, especially when he’s looking back at me like he

wants to eat me alive.

Should that frighten me?

Probably. It doesn’t, though. I’m more curious than anything.

“Don’t mind Miles, he just assumes everyone’s a degenerate like him,” Callum snickers, looking past

me to throw his friend a mocking smirk.

Miles rolls his eyes, unphased. “And you’re the picture of an upstanding citizen, right?” he tosses back

as he drops his hand to my bare shoulder, his fingertips brushing my skin. “I’m surprised this guy hasn’t

scared you off yet,” he mutters, leaning in closer.

Ugh, I hate when guys try to get handsy with me right off the bat. They often mistake my friendliness for

interest, then accuse me of being a tease when I shut them down. Classic male sense of entitlement. I subtly shrug Miles’ hand off of my shoulder as my gaze flickers back toward Cal. “Guess I don’t scare

easy.”

Our eyes meet, something passing between us while Callum’s lips curl into a sinister grin. “Lucky me.”

My heart pounds faster.

He doesn’t have any shortage of confidence, that’s for sure. I roll my eyes, chuckling to myself as I take

another sip of my drink, savoring the sweet cherry flavor on my tongue.

Levi was right; this juice concoction is definitely dangerous.

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The music switches to a bass-heavy Rihanna song and Cal lets out an audible groan, a hand coming to

his temple. “Jesus, who’s running the music tonight?” he complains aloud.

His friends seem too preoccupied with their own conversations to respond, so I guess I’ll bite. “What’s

wrong with this song?” I query, arching a brow. He levels me with a look of disapproval, but I just shrug

him off, continuing. “I’ve heard it on the radio a few times, it’s catchy.”

“This isn’t real music,” Cal grumbles, taking another swig of vodka straight from the bottle. I don’t know

how he can stomach that stuff- I still regret the sip that I took; it burned my throat like jet fuel.

“No? What would you classify as…” I lift a hand to make air quotes, “real music?”

His head drops backwards, eyes drifting up to stare at the ceiling. “Something with actual instruments

that wasn’t butchered to all hell in a studio,” he murmurs. “Black Sabbath, Iron Maiden, Slipknot…”

“Ah, so you’re a metalhead,” I conclude with a resolute nod. “That tracks.”

He lifts his head, turning his gaze back on me and narrowing his eyes skeptically. “How do you figure?”

“You’ve got that whole dark, tortured vibe going on,” I say with the wave of a hand.

“Think you’ve got me all figured out, huh?” he grumbles, the corner of his mouth pulling into a sexy

smirk.

I shake my head as a giggle slips past my lips, the alcohol already working its way into my system and

lowering my inhibitions. “Hardly. But your musical tastes don’t exactly come as a surprise.”

He’s got me trapped in his stare, those hypnotizing blue-green eyes holding me captive. I’m not sure

I’ve ever seen eyes like his before- in the dim lighting, they almost look turquoise.

“And let me guess,” Callum drawls, running his tongue over his straight white teeth. “You’re a big Taylor

Swift fan, huh?”

“What?” I snort, shaking my head.

He shrugs a shoulder and gives me another scathing once-over. I nearly shiver in response to the way

his gaze slowly drags up and down my body, like he’s undressing me with his eyes. “Tell me I’m wrong,

babe,” he purrs. “Tell me you’re not a sweet, bubblegum pop type of girl.”

Another giggle bubbles up from my throat. “Nice try, Callum, but you’ve got me all wrong.” I push up

from the couch, tossing my long hair over a shoulder and glancing around the crowded packhouse.

Without missing a beat, Miles hops up to stand beside me. “Change your mind about that refill?” he

asks hopefully.

I give a quick shake of my head. “Restroom?”

Miles’ face falls in disappointment, like it would’ve made his dang night to get me that drink. “Oh, uh,

just down that hall,” he provides, pointing to a dark corridor branching off the left side of the room.

“Thanks!” I flash Miles a bright smile in appreciation before turning to head that way, bobbing and

weaving through the crowd. This place is packed, and finding my way through the sea of staggering

bodies is akin to tackling an obstacle course. I almost catch an elbow to the face when I try to slip past

a drunk girl dancing with her eyes closed, and narrowly save myself from falling when I stumble over

someone else’s foot. It’s absolute chaos, but I can’t deny that I’m having fun. These guys sure know

how to throw a party.

I’ve been curious about these weekend ragers at the Norbury packhouse since I first started hearing

about them from another waitress at work, so when Levi wandered into the restaurant of the Cedar

Ridge ski lodge to extend a personal invitation to Vienna, it felt like it was kismet. Not only has it been

way too long since either of us had a decent night out, but Vee has been in a major slump since she

and her ex broke things off. Even more so since she moved back home a couple months ago and

started working at the lodge. It took some convincing to get her here tonight, but she needs it.

I do, too.

I find the restroom easily enough, though I have to wait in line behind someone else before I can get in.

Once I do, I take a quick pee and wash my hands, leaning over the sink to reapply my cherry red

lipstick in the mirror as the voices of a couple girls waiting outside the door carry through it.

“Who is she, anyways? I’ve never seen her at one of these before.”

“I have no idea, but I’ve been trying to get on Cal for months. If he’s taking anyone home tonight, it’s

gonna be me, not some random skank.”

I freeze, flickering my gaze toward the closed door of the bathroom. Maybe they’re talking about

someone else…?

“Girl, do you have a death wish? Callum Conway is scary as fuck. He’ll probably chop you up into little

pieces and feed you to his wolf.”

“Oh, he can eat me, alright…”

They both dissolve into fits of giggles while I pop the cap back on my tube of lipstick, slipping it in my

pocket and smoothing my hair in the mirror. My heart’s banging against my ribs at a frantic rhythm as I

digest their words.

“Guess you’ll have to work on getting him away from that other girl first. Just point her to someone

else’s dick! Sluts don’t discriminate, right?”

I grit my teeth against their titters of laughter, reaching for the knob and pulling the bathroom door

open. As soon as they see me, the women waiting on the other side snap their mouths shut, the

laughter dying on their tongues as they blink at me like a couple of deer caught in the headlights.

Judging by their shock, they clearly had no idea that I was in here while they were so rudely discussing

me.

Surprise, bitches.

“Don’t worry ladies,” I say with a friendly smile, stepping out into the hall as they scramble backwards,

wide-eyed. “I’m not planning on going home with anyone tonight, so have at it.”

I toss them a wink, my hair whipping behind me as I spin on a heel and strut away confidently.

I hear them mumbling to one another as I retreat, but their trash-talking doesn’t phase me. Maybe it’d

bother me if there was a modicum of truth to anything they said, but those girls don’t know me, and

they couldn’t be more wrong. If they actually knew me, they’d know that there’s no chance I’d have a

one-night stand with someone I just met. I’m not that girl. I don’t even date, so it’s laughable that they

perceive me as a threat.

Kill them with kindness.

That’s what my mom always told me- if someone badmouths you, prove them wrong by being kind.

Even when it’s hard to do. Especially when it’s hard to do. It’s difficult to keep talking trash about

someone who has been nothing but nice in return, and if they do, it says more about their character

than your own.

I fight my way through the crowd again, and when I return to the large U-shaped sectional at the far

side of the living room, I pause for a moment in hesitation.

‘Callum Conway is scary as fuck.’

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The rude girl’s words echo in my mind as I stare at Cal. He’s pulled up the hood of his sweatshirt and it

casts an ominous shadow over his handsome features, his square jaw set tightly. I suppose in this

lighting, he could be perceived as scary to some, though I wasn’t lying when I said I don’t scare easy.

I’m not sure if that’s foolish or brave.

Miles’ gaze lifts to meet mine and his face splits into a wide grin as he beckons me back over with a

wave. I force a smile to my lips and move toward him, flicking Callum a sideways glance as I step

around his spread knees to retake my spot on the couch. He doesn’t meet my eyes, and I try to ignore

the little stab of disappointment in my gut.

“So I’m gonna call bullshit,” Cal murmurs as I settle back into the spot between him and Miles.

I turn toward him in surprise, my eyes mapping the sharp lines of his profile. “On?”

He slowly swivels to face me, lips curling into a menacing grin. “You’re definitely a Swiftie.”

A laugh bursts from my throat and I shake my head, elbowing him playfully.

“Prove it, then,” Cal challenges, pinning me with his stare.

There’s something about him that I’m inexplicably drawn to, like a fish to a lure. In danger of being caught.

“How?” I ask, fighting a grin.

He holds out a hand, palm-up. “Give me your phone.”

I heave a sigh, pressing my feet into the floor and lifting my butt up from the couch to slide my cell

phone out of the back pocket of my jeans. “Fine,” I concede, slapping it down into his waiting palm.

He smirks, holding my phone up to my face to unlock it before navigating to my Spotify app on the

home screen. He pulls up my most recent playlist, scrolling through it slowly as I hold my breath.

“Hmm,” Cal muses as his eyes scan the song titles. “You’re right, I pegged you all wrong, emo girl.” He

tosses me a side-eyed smirk and my heart stutters in my chest.

I open my mouth to respond, but before I can, Miles speaks up. “So, you’re from Riverton?” he asks,

pulling my attention away from Callum as he continues to scroll through my playlist.

I swivel my gaze around to Miles, nodding my head. “Yep, Vee and I grew up together,” I provide,

nodding in Vienna’s direction. She’s still seated comfortably beside Levi, but she doesn’t exactly look

thrilled to be there for some reason. She keeps glancing over at Chase, and the broody Alpha is

completely fixated on her. I file that away for later, looking back to Miles as he begins to speak again.

“Nice. All of us guys grew up together, too.”

“Your poor parents,” I tease. “They must’ve had their hands full with a group like yours.”

Miles chuckles, scrubbing a hand over his face. “You have no idea. I mean, Alpha used to keep us in

line, but…” he trails off, his throat working with a swallow as he darts a glance toward Chase. “Er, well,

you know.”

I nod sadly as Cal drops my phone back onto my lap. I swear, it’s like these two are playing tug-of-war

with my attention right now. I grab my phone, arching my back off the couch cushion and lifting up to

slip it back into my pocket.

“Guess I stand corrected,” Callum says, eyeing me with renewed interest as my butt hits the cushion

again. He swipes a hand over his chin, his blue-green eyes boring into mine. “I’m usually better at

reading people.”

“Maybe you’ll have to actually get to know me before passing judgment,” I suggest.

He runs his tongue over his teeth, giving me another shiver-inducing once-over before his eyes lock in

on mine again. “Maybe.”