Chapter 6 Together Part Two

JETHRO

That gets Damon’s attention. His ears perk up like an intrigued bloodhound, “So who is it? What’s her name?” He asks impatiently.

Good question.

I’d like to know who, too.

Pulling out my cell phone, I bring up the list in my notes, swiping a finger through the names of Jessica Tate and Dina Evans to cross them off, leaving only one name remaining.

Marni Rose.

Circling the name, I pause to stare at the black font. It sounds familiar and new all at once. But something I can’t pinpoint tells me the girl has crossed my path before. I just can’t seem to remember the occasion.

“Well... we’re all on pins and needles here?” King speaks up, tearing me out of my thoughts.

“Marni Rose,” I confess. “Marni Rose is the only girl according to this list that hasn’t fucked anyone—certainly not any of us.”

“Marni Rose,” Spencer repeats like he likes how she tastes on his tongue. I have to admit, I do too. The girl has a beautiful name. It’s not generic, it’s far from basic. I wonder what she looks like. Her body type. Her measurements. Lips, ass, legs...tits. Pussy.

“Why does that name sound so familiar?” Kingston’s brow bunches in concern.

So he’s not the only one feeling as though he’s known her his whole life? I mean, I guess technically we’ve all known her our whole lives because we’ve all gone to the same schools for the past twelve years, but it’s different than that. I feel like she’s always been there, in the background of every day, of every second. Hiding in plain sight.

Just beyond my fucking reach.

And just like that, the game is abandoned as I head over to the cabinet and begin pulling out all the yearbooks from the past, ripping them open, and searching through the underclassmen for Marni Rose. Freshman year is a dead end. Her name is there, but there isn’t a picture. Sophomore year isn’t any different. There’s a name, but no photo.

“How the fuck is she not in any of these?” I rasp, flipping through to the back of the freshman yearbook, hoping to find her hiding amongst the faces of the various clubs.

Nothing.

Moments later, King walks over and picks up the Sophomore yearbook, opening up pages to see if he’s able to spot her in the sea of people.

“She’s got to have a Facebook. I’ll look her up.” Spencer pulls out his phone. He’s our technology mastermind, so if anyone can find her, it’s him.

“Give me that one.” Damon joins in, sitting down on the floor with us, nodding to the yearbook for Junior year. He pops open the cover and begins reading through it to aid in the search for the face belonging to the pretty name.

“How’s it going, Spence?” I ask, invested more than I’d like to be.

He answers, but not before a sigh of disappointment, “Not good. I can’t find the name Marni Rose anywhere. No one with that name seems to live in this zip code. The name hasn’t been tagged in any posts or photos either. It’s almost like the girl doesn’t exist.”

Damn. A pro hacker such as Spencer reaching a dead end is a disconcerting discovery. If he can’t find her, how will I?

“Did you check the other Marni Rose accounts, just in case—” I suggest, but he cuts me off before I can get the thought out.

“I did. The pages are surprisingly public, and the profiles I was able to find are of middle-aged women who live hundreds of miles away.”

“Maybe we’ll just have to wait to find her tomorrow at school.” King proposes.

No. I refuse to accept that.

She’s spent four years in the school. There has to be one picture of her, somewhere. Even if it’s small. Even if it’s not labeled. Even if it’s not current.

She’s in those pages.

I know she is.

We've just got to find her.

“No!” I snap, rummaging through the yearbook in my hands faster, frustration making my blood simmer. “She’s in here somewhere goddamnit!”

“I think I found her!” Damon calls out, at last, placing the book on the floor in the center of us. “She’s right there. And what a Rose she is.” He points to an attractive brunette lounging on the grass behind the posing track team reading a book, her long legs stretched out in front of her.

And my body stiffens.

Because I do know her.

I know exactly who she is.

“There’s no name, but that’s her.” Kingston huddles around the picture, leaning closer to get a better look. “I remember her from freshman year. I knocked her over rushing to class one day. Didn’t even bother to help her back up. It’s definitely her though; I remember her friend saying her name after I bolted.”

“Oh, it’s her alright.” I confirm what he says, leaving no room for debate, feeling my gut twist, and my spine burn, “She was my lab partner for science class in freshman year.”

I’d spent five weeks paired up with her. That’s two days a week for over a month at minimum that we could’ve shared, that I could’ve broken her, made her mine...

But back then, I wasn’t ready for a girl like her. Being a Sin was still new, and I didn’t have the confidence or experience I do now. I sure as hell didn’t have any self-control either. I was just a typical horny teenager—too much testosterone, not enough discipline, thinking with the wrong head more often than not.

And Marni made me nervous.

More than that—she made me feel weak. One word from her and I’d forget my own name, forget how to speak. One accidental brush of her fingers against mine and I spilled solution all over her notebook as I creamed in my goddamn pants, praying to fucking God she hadn’t noticed.

After that, the shame hit hard. So I bailed—moved to the other tables, put as much distance between us as possible. Anything to avoid making more of a fool of myself in front of a girl who was so far out of my league it wasn't even funny.

If she thought I was an asshole, fine. I could live with that. It was better than seeing that failure staring back at me in the mirror. Or facing the others.

A Sin who couldn’t control a situation or manipulate it to his advantage? Who couldn’t get a girl on her knees?

Unheard of.

Unacceptable.

Especially for the one branded the leader.

So I shut it down. I didn’t look back. I let her carry the weight of passing us on her own while I acted like she didn’t exist.

And then I let her walk away.

But that was four years ago. And a lot can change in four years. I’ve changed. I'm not the same unsure, adolescent boy I was before. She's never met this version of me. Never faced me head-on. But she will.

Because now?

I’m ready for her.

I'm a bonafide hunter who lives for the fucking kill.

And Marni Rose doesn’t make me nervous, nothing does anymore.

She makes my fucking dick hard, and this time, I'll make her kneel at my goddamn feet to worship me. I'll show her what true sin looks and feels like. Every punishment, every drop of pleasure—I'll have her begging for it all. And she'll enjoy every goddamn second of it.