Lottie

The music was so loud that the walls seemed to thrum with it. Which was surprising because my new home wasn’t attached to any other houses. I’d chosen it for the privacy it would give me and for the quiet.

Although quiet seems to be the last thing on my closest neighbour’s mind. I’d spent the afternoon watching bike after bike and car after car, pull up the secluded road towards his gate. I’d even thought it was strange but now I knew why so many people were turning up.

They were throwing a party and a big one at that.

The kind of party that I had always stayed away from, even when I was a stupid kid and thought pushing my parents boundaries had been the way to catch Killians attention.

Killian.

His name was a prayer and a curse to me. Even after seven years and four months his name still made my body react physically. My heart sped up. My palms got sweaty and my-

Well no one had come close to bringing me the same kind of pleasure that Killian Johnson had ever given me.

No one would probably ever come close.

In the sack Kilian was a machine.

Out of it, he was a monster.

It had just taken me a while to yank off the rose tinted glasses and see my foster brother for what he really was.

A psychopath.

Killian Johnson had been bad news, and he was still bad news. Luckily for me, since he had got out of prison two years ago, I hadn’t seen him at all. Which was for the best, seeing as I was the one who put him in the big house.

It had been my testimony that had locked him up, and the look he had thrown me from the dock when he was sentenced was the only thing I thought about more than the feel of him between my legs.

Damn Killian Johnson. Damn him.

Shaking my head I dipped the paint brush back into the paint and swiped it over the grey walls.

I never understood the reasoning for people to use white and grey in their houses. Surely they wanted their homes to be interesting? To have a little flare and flavour?

Or maybe it was just me. After years of living under my parents strict role, the moment I was old enough to break the rules I had and I had been doing it every day since.

They might not like my life choices, but I paid my own bills and I could do whatever I wanted.

Another booming beat began. Louder and harder than the one before and the paint literally jumped from my brush to my hand and slid down my arm. A bright smudge of red, that kind of looked like blood.

I stared down at it for a second. Watching the trail and I was thrown back into the past. To another night , just like this one where it had been actually blood coating my hands and arm.

Bile rushed up my throat. So thick and fast that it was a struggle to swallow it down.

“Oh enough.” I snapped at the empty room around me. “Enough of thinking about that night, enough thinking about him. It wasn’t your fault.”

The boxes around my feet didn’t answer me, I didn’t expect them either. I didn’t even expect an answer of my own. I knew the truth , it just didn’t stop me telling myself that particular lie. And maybe one day I would actually believe it.

Maybe.

Sighing heavily, I dropped the brush back into its tray and stepped back. Painting was therapeutic, usually. With the noise from next door pounding away it was just making me angry.

I had been promised that this was a quiet area. No crime. Safe.

It was the reason I had signed the lease even if the rent was astronomically high.

A safe place to live was always top of my agenda- just in case.

Well just in case Killian decided he wanted to come knocking after all.

“He won’t.” I told myself firmly. “He wouldn’t dare, and he knows why I did it. Why I had to do it.”

Another lie but this one was one I already half believed.

Still if Killian wanted to start trouble then he would have done it by now. I knew him, he wouldn’t have the patience to wait to ruin my life.

Rubbing my paint coated hands down my denim cut offs, I looked around. noticing the lights from next door flashing through the trees that separate our property.

A party alright, and a big on at that.

Moving across the room, to press my nose up against the glass I tried to make sense of the movements between the trees but it just looked like one big mess.

And lots of half naked bodies. I could see the flash of skin from the lights.

My eyes rolled. I did not know what I had expected from this neighbourhood. A black tie affair? Something like my parents would throw? That was a stupid assumption.

The night was balmy, summer was in full swing. Of course they were having a pool party. I would have probably done the same if I had any friends here. But after six years of moving from place to place every few months, friendship was something I just couldn’t maintain.

Whoever lived next door seemed to have lots of friends and they were having a whale of a time and I wasn’t above admitting I was a little jealous. It had been years since I had been invited to a party.

The last time was probably the summer before I fucked up evryones life. My own included.

Turning on my bare feet, I moved through the empty house before I knew what I was doing. It was like the pounding base of the dance music and the flashing lights drew me to them.

Leaving the front door on the latch, I crept around the house and through the trees. Winding through the shadowy trunks until I got to the boundary fence.

Out here, the music was even louder. Throbbing so violently that my heart seemed to match its speed.

Through a gap in the old wooden fence I watched the party goers. Sucking in a startled breath, I realised there was a lot more than dancing going on over there. Sure there were women in bikinis, some splashing in the pool but everywhere looked naked bodies writhed. Some dancing, some doing a more intimate dance with their partner of choice.

Hell some of them had more than one partner.

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