Page 11 of Rush the Edge

My stride never slows, even as my mouth begs to curve. I keep heading for the glowing red lights of Euphoria’s Edge while keeping my wits about me.

“Kane!” I stop abruptly from Daisy’s shrill tone.

Gravel crunches under my shoe as I spin. “Yes?”

She crosses her arms over her annoyingly perky chest.

Did those grow during our time apart?

“Where are we going?” Each word drags out of her mouth slowly.

I level her with a bored stare. “To get dinner.”

River glances at the sign above my head and bursts into laughter.

“This is a strip club!” Daisy narrows her pretty blue eyes at me, and I can’t help but feed off of it.

I shrug. “They have great hamburgers.”

“Does it come with a side of crabs too?” She angrily laughs at her own joke. “I’m not going to a strip club for dinner. Pick somewhere else.”

I place my hands in my pockets and rock back on my heels. “I didn’t realize you were such a prude.”

Her jaw drops, and the angry little glare she sends me puts a fire in my blood.

River laughs from beside her. “I can honestly say I’ve never been to a strip club with my sister…” He heads toward the door. “But I guess there’s a first for everything.”

“I am not going into a strip club with my brother!” she snaps.

“You act like I haven’t seen you getting half-fucked by some frat boy before.” River snorts. “Consider this payback.”

Excuse me, what the hell did he just say?

Daisy stomps her foot and stares after her brother. “I didn’t know you were there! That’s not fair.”

I can’t seem to get the image of her being fucked by some guy out of my head while they continue to argue back and forth. My shoulders tense with something I refuse to acknowledge, and I quickly head for the door to the club.

The burger may taste like cardboard, but at least I can stare at the topless women dancing while I eat instead of Daisy and her pretty glares in my direction.

Five

DAISY

Kane Barlow isstillgettingunder my skin even years later.

Who goes to a strip club for dinner?

No one.

No one does that unless they’re eating something other than food for dinner.

The only reason he chose this place was to annoy me. He probably still assumes I’m a goody-goody, which is what the boys used to call me back in high school. River Sullivan’s little sister: the quiet, good girl. I was the girl with her nose in a book, rolling my eyes at all the popular boys who took turns making out with the head cheerleader during the parties that my parents made River drag me to.

They never wanted me to be left out, even if I was underage at a party with copious amounts of alcohol and no adult supervision.

I sigh and bite into a carrot stick while watching one of the strippers grind against an older male in business attire.

We make eye contact, and I freeze mid-bite.

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