Damaged Goods (Redemption Series #1)

Prologue

Trinity Montgomery
Christmas Break, New Year's Eve

Everything is moving in slow motion.

The people dancing, laughing. The guys doing a keg stand in the corner. The fireworks being shot off into the night sky down by the pier. The vodka bottle that was knocked off the counter when someone stumbled into it.

Clearly I'm not the only one inebriated.

"Trinity," Hannah, my friend since she'd complimented my Hello Kitty earrings in the fifth grade, loudly yells in my ear.

My words come out in a slow mumble. "I'm right here."

She tugs at my arm and nearly knocks the both of us off balance. "What are you looking at?"

I blink. Once, twice. I hadn't even realized that my gaze has been locked on the watercolor painting across the room for who knows how long. The bright yellow, pink, and blue streaks of color seem to pop off of the canvas in a vivid 3D display. I tilt my head to the side and the colors stretch out and seem to follow my vision.

"Like the fireworks," I mumble.

"What?" Hannah yells.

Cheers erupt behind us, but my eyes stay zoned in on the art. Arms snake around my waist and a nose nuzzles the skin behind my ear.

"Feeling good?"

The voice slowly registers in my mind. Landon Walsh. Most popular guy at Addison High, "it" boy of our close-knit friend group, and my crush for the last six months. I'd been so excited when he asked me if I'd come to his New Year's party as his date.

Any giddy feelings I'd originally harbored for him immediately dissipated after he got me a drink awhile ago and disappeared with his friends. I'd forgotten I'd even arrived with him, choosing to ignore him and stick close to Hannah instead since I hadn't wanted to come to the New Year's Eve party at his Dad's lake cabin in the first place. Parties aren't my thing, but I thought Landon Walsh was.

"It's so pretty," I say, my voice tinged in awe.

I finally yank my gaze away from the painting and clumsily turn around in Landon's arms. His face is blurry. I blink, trying to focus on what I know from memory is supposed to be a clean shaven face and short, blonde swept back hair.

"You're so fuzzy." I state. I reach an arm out, trying to touch his face. My arm feels heavy. My fingers tingle.

"Alcohol will do that to you," Landon laughs. "You had a lot to drink tonight."

"I did?" I ask, feeling dizzy. I sway on my feet and his arm anchors down my waist, pressing me against his body. Something hard probes at my thigh. I try to step away, but dots fill my vision and nausea swarms my body. I turn my head to search for Hannah, but she's nowhere to be found; lost in a crowd of blurry-faced, teenage partygoers.

"Gonna be sick," I say to no one.

I'm suddenly lifted off of my feet, the feel of strong arms braced behind my back and knees. I close heavy-lidded eyes, suddenly feeling sleepy.

"Tired," I moan.

"Let's get you to bed. We'll get some rest upstairs where no one can disturb us, yeah?"

I try to respond, try to tell him that I don't want to go upstairs and that I want to go home, but my tongue feels stuck to the roof of my mouth. My head rolls back on my shoulders, my eyes fluttering open and slamming closed when harsh lights assault my vision.

The music, laughter, and voices suddenly drown out, now muffled. Landon's voice cuts into the air, his voice low. "No one will bother us upstairs, it's off limits."

"No," I slur. "Home."

Everything moves in slow motion.

The trip up the stairs. The door that closes behind me as I'm carried across a threshold. The wooden slab walls as I'm placed on something soft. The lamp that nearly falls off the nightstand that Landon stumbles into on his way back from rummaging in the side table drawer.