The Lost Daughter

CHAPTER TEN.

Weston makes quick work of introducing me around the assembled group, deftly ignoring the multitude of guys and girls idling in clumps hanging on the fringes, his arm slung casually around the back of the side of the sofa where I'm sat next to him

I ignore Jackson on Wes' left, my eyes skipping right past him and moving with my brother's words.

There's Carter, a smug and arrogant looking boy who I almost immediately can't stand. He reminds me of every rich, entitled dick I've ever met. The one's who would try to grab my, and other girls', ass at my jobs or in the hallways at school because he thinks he should be handed the world on a silver platter—down to the way he lets his bottle of imported beer dangle from his fingertips like he doesn't have a care on Earth.

Next to Carter sits Roman who, alternatively, I instantly like. He has a calm demeanor and kind eyes with a wide and bright smile that brings out the rich tones of his skin. Of course, there's also the taunts he throws at Carter like jokes that warm me up to him.

Then there's Hunter and Everett who, while entertaining, are too drunk to make any sort of real impression of their true personalities apart from their basic charm. Which, even in their current state, I can see they have in abundance—laughing loudly and playfully, interacting with the gathered crowd. Even though most of the references and stories about people go over my head, I can still hear the swell of laughter and admiring gazes from the onlookers, the latter mostly from the girls.

Lastly; in the chair on my right sits Kian. He's the quietest, not including my brother or Jackson, but it doesn't ring true to his character like it does with them. With them, I've grown to know them to be people who speak when it suits them and not a second before, but they have the commanding presence to back it up. Kian's silence feels more like an imitation, a mirror to their similar personalities and I wonder if everyone can see it as plainly as I do.

Still, I don't mind Kian. With his beautiful burnished bronze skin and long, dark eyelashes lining his round eyes perfectly, he certainly is pretty to look at.

"Did you guys see Addison?" Carter probes, an ugly smirk taking up residence on his handsome face.

He addresses the group but his eyes go straight to Jackson when he says it.

He's sat as he usually is in his seat at Wes' side; like he's carved from marble and at Carter's question his face turns cold like it as well. It only piques my interest more at who Addison is, almost nothing can faze him, even as minimally as this has.

"No, man, why?" Kian is the one to ask him, annoying Carter who was clearly looking for a rise out of Jackson for whatever reason.

"Just thinking, thought she'd be the hottest one here tonight." He answers, a slimy smile on his face, sliding his eyes to me as he does. Doing nothing to disguise his meaning.

"Watch it." I hear Jackson say in a low, threatening voice before I even have a chance to respond and surprising me immensely, because if anyone was going to react to a statement like that I'd assume it was going to be my twin.

However, he's not far behind. "I'd remember, McCade, that your father isn't in that comfortable of a position already."

I have to bite my lip to hold in the laughter at the silent fury that washes over Carter.

"Is that a threat?" He asks Weston.

It's Jackson who answers, with a voice as blank and hard as his expression. "Yes."

Tension aside, the atmosphere is addictive.

By the time I'm done my first drink, I've almost completely abandoned my previous nerves. And when Wyatt parades back out a while later with a fresh one, much to the irritation of Weston, I've rid them all together.