Prey Tell: Prologue

Chase

Eight Years Ago

I’m just slipping the pink rubber gloves onto my hands when I hear a crash and subsequent moan coming from the front porch. Muttering under my breath, I walk over to the front door and throw it open.

“Parker,” I growl, taking in her small, slumped body sitting on the large porch swing. She’s fumbling with the straps of her heels as a string of curses leaves her lips. “Are you fucking drunk?”

She snaps her head up and glares at me. “I’m not drunk. I tripped on the stairs because these heels are trying to kill me.” Her eyes swing to the gloves. “I never knew you were so domestic. Pink is undoubtedly your color.”

I lean against the doorframe and smirk. “You always know what to say to make a man swoon.”

She narrows her eyes at me before she continues fumbling with the tiny straps. “Why are these ankle straps so hard to unbuckle? I don’t understand why we women constantly torture ourselves like this. For example, why are these holes so hard to find in the first place?” The instant the words leave her lips, she glares up at me. “Don’t make some sexual innuendo right now, Ravage. I’m not in the mood to spar tonight,” she says, using her nickname for me.

“Let me,” I offer, snapping the rubber gloves off and shoving them in the back pocket of my suit pants.

Walking over to where she’s sitting, I fall to my knees and pull her left leg up first, exposing one of her creamy thighs. I clear my throat and focus on the task at hand. Much to my chagrin, she’s not wrong. The buckles are tiny and it takes me a solid minute to slide the thin strap off from around her delicate ankle. When I grab her other leg, it takes an inordinate amount of self-control not to run my fingers up her toned legs.

When I finish, I sit back on my heels and grin. “It wasn’t that hard.”

She blinks a few times and looks at something behind me, refusing to make eye contact. “Is Jackson asleep?”

“Yeah. Those toddlers will be the death of him one day,” I mutter, standing up. I’m referring to the little crotch goblins he teaches every weekday. I’d been cleaning up after our dinner so that it was one less thing he had to do tomorrow.

She snorts. “Probably. But he’ll love every second of his hard-earned demise.”

I hold the front door open for her as she walks inside before me, heels dangling from her fingers. I study the way she sets them down by the door neatly—the way she lingers and gazes around longingly. Pulling the gloves on, I walk over to the sink.

“So, rough night?” I ask her.

She hops up onto the counter next to me, crossing her ankles as her hands grip the edge of the countertop.

“No.”

“Parker,” I warn her, my tone low and intimidating. I pick up the first plate and begin the arduous process of cleaning up after her sloppy brother. “You know, I can always tell you’re lying because your voice drops an octave.”

She twists her lips to the side, looking so fucking innocent. Except she’s endured more than any eighteen-year-old ever should.

“Fine, you caught me.”

I start to load the dishwasher, knowing my silence is eating at her. “I also know you’re lying about being drunk.”

She scoffs. “I had two drinks. I’m hardly falling over my—”

“Front steps?” I finish, looking over at her as I quirk a brow. “Juliet Parker actually went to a party and indulged in… fun?” I tease.

She swats my arm. “I can be fun sometimes. It’s rare though, so you better soak it all up now while you have the chance, Ravage.”

I set my plate down and turn to face her. My eyes bore into her light-green ones, and then they perused her heart-shaped face, the dusty rose of her lightly freckled cheeks, before tracking down her slender neck. My mind memorizes the way her dress—which is too fucking short—clings to her smooth curves—the slim waist that flares into rounded hips. When I’m done, I meet her eyes again, but this time, her cheeks are tinged with pink.

She’s playful tonight. I’m enjoying it, and it might be my new favorite version of her. Leaning closer, I can see the way her chest rises and falls at my perusal.

“Oh, I plan to savor it, Parker.”

Something shutters behind her eyes and her lids lower slightly as she considers my words.

It takes me a second too long to realize I’m flirting with her.

Fuck.

Flirting with Juliet Parker? I shouldn’t be entertaining the idea—and trust me, my mind wanted to entertain the idea numerous times over the past couple of years.

But her brother was my best friend. I’d known her for a decade. And even if that weren’t the case, I was Chase Ravage, fourth son of Charles Ravage, also known as the billionaire who fucked over a bunch of people five years ago. The Ravage name is basically cursed, and Juliet is perfection personified. I’d drawn the line years ago. As tempting as she was—and she was always fucking tempting—I could never have her. She would never want me.

At least not in the uninhibited ways I wanted her to want me.

“Are you going to help me with these dishes or do I have to do them all myself?” I say quickly.

It seems to break the spell, because Juliet shakes her head and hops off the counter. “Why are you here anyway if Jackson is asleep?”

I shrug. I could tell her the truth—that seeing my best friend is the highlight of my Friday evenings, so I savor my time in this quaint fucking house. I could confess that my job at Ravage Consulting Firm is slowly eating away at my soul, and while my penthouse in downtown Crestwood is nice and big, I’d much rather be here because it feels more like home than anywhere else. Or I could confide that ever since her and Jackson’s parents died two years ago, I feel obligated to take care of them.

Jackson Parker is the closest thing I have to a real family.

And Juliet comes with the territory.

It’s why I knew she’d taken a cab home—because I’d given her access to my business account, and I’d seen a notification earlier that she was being picked up.

“Like I said, his kids wear him out. And though my father was a deplorable human being, he still taught me basic manners.”

“I assumed you wouldn’t know how to do dishes. You know, with your upbringing.”

My jaw tics, but I don’t indulge her with a response. “Grab a towel and help me dry.”

She reaches for the towel on the counter, but then she notices my ring on the soap dish. Her finger brushes over the gold, the letter ‘R’ engraved in the middle. I watch her as she places it on one of her fingers, smiling as it dangles off.

“I always forget that you wear this ring.”

“I don’t.”

“It looks like a relic.” She places it back down on the counter. “Though it is quite pretty. It goes well with the pink gloves,” she deadpans. Despite her teasing, I laugh. “If you hate your father so much, why do you wear it?” She grabs the towel as I hand her a large pot.

“To remind myself.”

Drying the pot, her large, chartreuse eyes find mine. “Of what?”

A muscle quivers at my jaw as I hand her a wineglass. “That I never want to end up like him.”

She dries the glass without asking anymore questions, but if I know her at all, I can assume she’s formulating a response in that big brain of hers. Juliet is nothing if not practical, driven, and focused. In fact, if she weren’t about to attend college, I might’ve offered her an internship at Ravage Consulting Firm. After five years, she could have been the goddamn VP. Though, that would mean she would need to be associated with the Ravage name, and I knew she was better than that.

Her arm brushes against mine briefly. Taking a step away, I don’t let myself register the slightly dejected look on her face.

“Are you going to tell me why tonight was a bad night?” I ask before she can hurl one of her Parker-isms at me. I know she wants to ask about my family. She always does. I swear my family is like some sort of science experiment to her.

“It’s nothing. Just your normal teenage teasing.”

I stiffen. “Was someone teasing you?” I ask, my voice lower than before.

Give me names, I want to ask.

“It’s not a big deal, Chase.”

My first name on her lips startles me. She hardly ever calls me that. Even when she was a wily nine-year-old, she referred to me as Ravage.

I wipe out the sink and she finishes drying the second wineglass. “Tell me.”

She shifts uncomfortably. “It’s really nothing.”

I snatch the towel from her hand and twist it up. “Tell me, or I’ll figure it out myself. I have connections.”

She crosses her arms. “Why do you care?”

I shrug. “It got under your skin enough to have two drinks. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you drink anything. Ever. Except your disgusting protein smoothies before a run.”

She cracks a small smile before sighing heavily. “Okay, fine. But I know once I tell you that you’ll get all protective and angry, so you have to promise to stay calm.”

Her words cause me to bite the inside of my cheek. “I’m listening,” I growl, setting the towel down and turning to face her.

“Well, a couple of the girls from my senior class were talking about losing their virginity this summer so that they didn’t have to go to college a virgin,” she starts, her voice wavering a little bit with nervousness.

I don’t like the sound of this. “And?”

“And then I realized I’m the only girl I know who is still a virgin.”

Fuck.

I’d suspected and selfishly hoped it was the case, but again, I didn’t have any claim over her, so it’s not like I could ask.

Still, despite the fact that I shouldn’t go there with Parker, I’m intrigued. The possessive beast I attempt to hide from almost everyone is roaring to claim her.

Double fuck.

I clear my throat. “What’s wrong with going to college as a virgin?”

“Everything?” she retorts, her cheeks flaming. “I’m—I’ll be the only one.”

I narrow my eyes, mulling over her words. It would be so easy to take advantage of this situation, but it’s Parker. She deserves the whole world. I wish she’d realize that. Fuck her friends for making her feel bad about it.

“So what? You think your virginity is something you should give up and discard on a whim?” My voice is harder than I intended it to be.

That stuns her. She pulls her lower lip between her teeth and fuck me she looks so goddamn vulnerable right now.

“You asked,” she replies, her voice hard. “And I told you. It’s a big deal to me.”

“You’re right. I’m glad you told me, Parker.” She’s still chewing on her bottom lip. She’s not finished, even if she wants me to think she is. “And? What else happened?”

“One of the guys overheard and offered to take it there at the party.”

I see red. Bright fucking crimson.

She’s not mine. None of this matters. And yet…

Reaching up, I loosen the tie around my neck. “Who?”

It’s an innocent enough question, but I practically snarl it.

Parker laughs. “Right, like I’d tell you.”

My eyes turn cold and flinty as I assess her. Long, light brown hair. It’s so fucking shiny it looks like polished brass. Pale skin, pink lips, and big, green eyes. She’s small but not petite, and her body is… fuck, what I’d give to kiss her. Just once.

Maybe I’d even break my ‘no kissing, no intimacy’ rule for her.

I’d likely break all of my rules for her, now that I think about it.

And now I find out that someone else had the audacity to try and steal her virginity at a fucking house party?

“Fine. Don’t tell me. But I’ll find out.”

She smirks. “Fine.”

“So, that’s it? You obviously turned his offer down,” I growl.

“Of course I did. I’m not—that’s not who I am. I want my first time to be with someone I trust. Someone I care about, and someone who will be gentle.”

“That’s right,” I tell her, pushing off the counter and turning toward the dishwasher, before I get in over my head.

Calm down, Ravage.

“Your first time should be with someone who will revere you,” I murmur, popping in some detergent and then pressing start. “Someone who will make your toes curl and your eyes roll so far back in your head that you’ll see white.” I’m still facing the sink. I can’t face her while I say this, but she needs to hear it. “Someone who will make you wonder what the fuck you’ve been missing out on. Not some guy at a party. Not in some random bedroom in a house you’ve never been to. Somewhere meaningful—with someone who will treat you like a seven-course meal.”

When I turn around, I don’t expect the look on Parker’s face. It’s almost… triumphant?

“I agree,” she says, her voice clear and resolute. “Which is why I’m going to ask you to hear me out before you say no.”

I narrow my eyes. “Okay…”

She clears her throat and pulls her phone out from the pocket in her dress. I want to laugh, because dress pockets are another Parker-ism I’ve come to adore. She refuses to wear dresses without them.

I’ve seen her pull out full-sized books from the depths of her skirts.

“Chase,” she starts, pinning me with the same look she gives to anyone she expects will challenge her. Standing straighter, she gives me a soft smile. “I’ve been thinking—since the party, that is—”

“Parker,” I warn, not liking the sound of this one bit.

“I think you should take my virginity. Tonight.”

I squeeze my eyes shut and rub the bridge of my nose. Exhaling slowly, I open my eyes again to Parker’s hopeful expression.

“What?” I growl, crossing my arms.

I’d love nothing more than to knock her legs apart and wrap them around my waist while I fuck her into this counter, but there are so many reasons that can never happen.

Does she realize how fucking tempting she is? Always—not just tonight.

I’ve held Juliet Parker on a pedestal for years.

“Before you freak out, let me read off the list I created in the taxi earlier.”

I groan. “Of fucking course you have a list. Leave it to you, Parker, to be the best at selecting the person to take your virginity.”

She gives me a wry smile. “You know I have to be the best at everything. Why would this be any different?”

Sighing, I rub my mouth, trying to distract myself from the way every nerve ending seems to be firing off inside of me at once.

I think you should take my virginity. Tonight.

“Go on, then. I wouldn’t want your list to go to waste.”

She wastes no time—almost like she expected this. “First, you’re my brother’s best friend. The stakes are high for you. You’d be gentle and caring because of Jackson. You’d never want to lose him.”

I never want to lose you either, Parker.

I watch her as she continues her little list of reasons why I should fuck her. And with every word that leaves her lips, I lose another fraction of my resolve.

“Two, you come from money. Should our tryst end in an unexpected pregnancy, I know you could—and would—provide for me.”

Fuck. Me.

I don’t know what to say to that. My skin heats at the thought of pumping her full of—

No.

Fuck.

“Third, I trust you, and I like you. I also find you physically attractive,” she states, as if she’s reading from a textbook. “Fourth, I don’t have any other options. I don’t want to go to college as a virgin, and you’re my only hope.”

She lowers her phone, and my eyes roam over her pink cheeks and flushed chest. Her last point sticks in my head, though.

I don’t have any other options.

She needs someone to pop her cherry. I’d be checking off one of the things on her list of things to do before college.

Too bad for her, though. She means more to me than that.

My jaw tics. “I assume—since you’re always thorough as hell—that you also have a list of reasons why I shouldn’t take your virginity.”

She gives me a look that screams of course I do before glancing down at her list.

“You can’t hold any of these against me, Ravage.”

I shrug. “I promise you there’s nothing on there that I don’t already know.”

She nods and begins reading. “One… your family.” She winces slightly as she looks up at me for a second to gauge my reaction. I keep my expression indifferent. “We all know that the Ravage name doesn’t have the best reputation. And while it doesn’t matter for the purposes of taking my virginity, it could reduce the chances of a real relationship down the road.”

I was wrong.

Her words hurt.

Real relationship…

She continues. “Ultimately, the pros outweigh the cons on this point. I only have two weeks before I start my first semester. Like I told you before, you’re kind of my only choice.”

“What else?”

“Two… we come from different social classes. I had to take your preferences into consideration, and it occurred to me that perhaps you might find me too common for you—”

“Jesus, Parker,” I growl, glaring at her as I shake my head. “Seriously?”

She chews on her lower lip as her shoulders sag forward slightly. “I don’t know. I’ve actually never seen you date anyone…” she trails off and her eyes go wide. “Oh god.” Her hand comes up to her mouth. “Are you gay?”

I smirk. “Definitely not gay, Parker,” I tell her, my voice gravelly as my eyes wander down her body once. “Keep going.”

“Three is sort of similar to two. I realized that your sexual preferences might be entirely different than mine—which are, as you know, nonexistent. I have no idea what I’m doing, and maybe you’d prefer someone more experienced.”

I roll my tongue against my cheek as I peer down at the ground, trying not to smile.

Oh, Parker. If only you knew the depraved things I like to do in bed.

I raise my eyes slowly as my own list formulates in my head. So many cons for why I should decline her offer—and one giant pro.

Because I’d probably commit murder in order to be Juliet’s first.

To ingrain myself inside of her consciousness—to be that person for her.

But I couldn’t.

I’m nowhere near worthy of her.

As much as I want to be that person for her, I don’t know how. I never learned how to be gentle. I never learned how to love. She wanted to know why I never dated? Because I didn’t know how. Sure, I could fuck like an animal. I knew how to bed a woman—knew all the ways to make them scream. But love? No fucking idea. And Parker deserved to lose her virginity to someone she loved—and someone who could love her back.

That person would never be me.

“Are there any decisions you don’t overthink?” I ask her softly.

She scoffs. “Of course not. I have to collect the data and analyze. It’s the only way I know how to function.”

I chuckle and place my hands in my pockets. My smile falls from my face. I dip my head in concession, though I wish I could tell her that I’d burn the world to get a taste of her.

Still, I’m putting my foot down.

I’m not worthy.

I can’t be that person for her.

“Parker, it’s not a good idea.”

“Really?” Her quiet voice is tinged with hurt as her arms drop to her side. “You’re rejecting me?”

Fuck.

“Look, it’s not because I don’t want to, okay?”

“Well, obviously it is, or you’d be—you would’ve—” She presses her lips together and closes her eyes. Shaking her head a few times, she opens them. Except where she was happy and chatty earlier, she’s now cold and closed off. “You know what? It’s fine. Of course you’d reject me. You’re entirely out of my league. I’m an idiot, and I never should’ve—”

“Out of your league?” I ask her incredulously. “Are you serious?”

The fucking irony.

I reach out to touch her arm but she flinches away. “It’s fine.” Only then do I notice the splotches of red along her collarbone, her neck. The way her chin is dipped down slightly.

Not only did I reject her, but I embarrassed her. I open my mouth to explain, but she pushes off the counter and walks past me. Without thinking, I grab her wrist and tug her back.

“Listen to me,” I grit out.

She pulls away. “You don’t need to explain. It’s complicated—with my brother, and who you are…” she trails off, still acting withdrawn.

“That’s not it. Those things don’t matter.” I look into her eyes, but all I see is hurt. A wounded eighteen-year-old. And my stupid fucking ass was the reason for her pain.

This is why I don’t do feelings, or dating, or love.

Because it always blows the fuck up in my face.

“Then what is it?” she challenges.

“It’s hard to explain. I’m not sure that I could.”

She rolls her eyes, trying to play it off, but I see the hesitation. The way she’s angling her body away from me. The way she’s fidgeting with the hem of her too fucking short dress.

“Forget I ever brought it up, okay?”

When she looks up at me, I swear my heart cracks in half. Her lashes are wet with unshed tears, and her brows are pinched together in anger. Aside from casual joking around, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Parker angry at me.

I need to shut this down before she gets hurt.

She doesn’t know it yet, but I know she’ll be fine—soon, she’ll have her pick of the lot. Men would fall to their knees before her. And though it made me blow a fuse thinking about that, I knew it was true.

“Okay. You should get some sleep,” I tell her.

She looks like I slapped her—shocked and angry. Whatever friendship we’d naturally amassed over the years suddenly crackled and exploded around us. Parker was smart—but she was also fucking proud. Which meant she was unlikely to forgive me anytime soon.

Without another word, she glares at me before she walks away. I hear her bedroom door slam loudly. Wincing, I sigh and turn, resting my arms on the counter as I hang my head between my shoulders.

Fucking hell.

Did I make the biggest mistake of my life? What if I’d said yes? What the hell was she expecting me to say?

Sure, Parker. Let me bend you over and fuck you against the kitchen counter…

My cock twitches at the thought—at the mere idea of lifting her dress and exposing the backs of her creamy thighs.

Fuck.

Grumbling, I push myself up and finish cleaning the kitchen. When I’m done, I grab my ring and force myself to leave. I refuse to glance up at Juliet’s window as I climb into the driver’s seat of my red Maserati MC20 Cielo. In ten minutes—breaking all the speed limits—I’m pulling into my parking space. Locking the car, I take the elevator up fourteen stories to the penthouse suite.

I think you should take my virginity. Tonight.

Discarding my wallet and keys by the door, I walk into the bar area of my living room, pouring myself a large glass of scotch. It’s something I’d normally savor, but tonight, I need to drown in it. Shooting it back, I pour another.

I don’t have any other options. I don’t want to go to college as a virgin, and you’re my only hope.

By the third half glass of scotch, the telltale signs of numbness descend down my limbs, fogging my mind. Removing my tie, I walk to my bedroom, somehow feeling worse for doing the right thing.

God knows it took every ounce of decency to reject her.

She’s going to hate me forever.

We all know that the Ravage name doesn’t have the best reputation. And while it doesn’t matter for the purposes of taking my virginity, it could reduce the chances of a real relationship down the road.

Maybe it’s for the best.

Maybe she should hate me.

Because that would mean she stays far away from me. And though it kills me to think about it, I know it will allow her to find someone to love her in every way that I can’t.

By the time I’ve showered and climbed into bed, I’m wholly convinced that Juliet Parker is better off without me in her life.

And I just gave her the push she needed.