The Price They Paid: Imprinted Mates Series

I had been in that car I’d probably still be alive just so that I would have to mourn them. Nothing that I ever did got me injured. Nothing!
When I was ten, I was riding my bike and got hit by a car. Not even a scratch! Measles, mumps, chicken pox, common cold? Never had those either. When I fell from the pyramid during cheerleading practice? Nothing hurt but my ego.
“Justice, are you going to stay in the mirror all day or are we leaving soon?” Amber asked.
“Bitch!” I yelled.
“Hurry up! You’re not getting any younger. You need to celebrate turning twenty-three now before you shrivel up tomorrow for being a day older!”
I knew somehow that drunken comment made complete sense to her. “I’m coming!”
I added more red to my lips and puckered them at the mirror. It complimented my honey caramel skin perfectly. My reddish-brown hair was bright and full around my face in deep waves. I loved my hair and this dress … I twirled in the mirror, watching as the black dress clung to every curve of my body. I knew I was going to get laid. I just had to.
Tomorrow, I would be hormonal. I always was during this time of the month. Ms. Sandy told me that it was because of the stages of the moon. I’d argued her theory, but she’d been right all these years. We’d tracked my changes, and they did appear to be connected to the moon’s cycle. Tomorrow was a total eclipse, and if history was correct, I expected it to be worse than it had been thus far.
Hopefully, I wouldn’t have to spend this one drugged and in a funk. The meds always left me grumpy and achy, plus I always felt severely alone. Ms. Sandy found stronger meds for me the last time because I’d been out of control. I believed that all I needed was somebody to finally tango with. This twenty-three-year-old virgin stuff was for the birds, and they could fly away with it. Trust me. I’d tried to have sex, but I could never find the right guy. They never smelled right, and scent was a huge turn on for me. I’d smelled perfection once, and I think it ruined me.
I slid my feet into my three-inch red pumps, and I was ready to destroy the night. I walked over to Amber who was snorting a line of coke. She held it out to me, and I shook my head. That stuff never did much for me, plus I didn’t want to turn out like my egg donor. The most it ever gave me was a headache, and I didn’t want anything messing up my plans for tonight.
“Come on! It’s your birthday!” Amber shouted above the raging music playing in the background.
Two of the other girls I didn’t know stood up and did a line, too, before grabbing their purses and heading out the door. I walked past Amber, and she grabbed me playfully.
“It makes the sex feel so much fucking better. Do it!”
Sex … Everything south started to throb lightly. That’s exactly what I needed. Amber knew that I was looking to get laid, and she’d said the magic words to get me to listen to what she was selling. The horrible idea was starting to sound good after all. It was one night. How bad could it really be? If it didn’t do anything to me, no harm no foul, right?
I leaned forward and snorted a double line. Amber cheered around me, and I stood up, feeling nothing at first. Then the throb between my legs increased. My senses seemed elevated to a level that almost blinded me. I took a moment to steady myself before I got my bearings and headed out to get some fresh air. Amber followed me out of the apartment, and she got into the car with her other friends. They were loudly cheering, and the music was blasting through the windows. I knew they were probably going to have a crap ton of fun, but I didn’t care.
After the death of my parents, I never drove with anyone. I didn’t trust it. I wanted to be in control of the car, and if someone was bold enough to hit me, they’d regret it. I climbed into my dad’s sports car. It was the only thing that hadn’t been taken from me when they passed except a fund they’d started for me. Enough of the sob stories, though. I was headed to find some lucky bastard to spend the night with.
The music was loud, and the smoke was everywhere. Drinks were flowing, and I needed a shot of tequila pronto. I rushed to the bar, cutting the line, and got the bartenders attention by exposing a little cleavage.
“Double shot of your best tequila, chilled,” I shouted.
“They’ll kill me. You know that, right?” The bartender motioned to the line that snaked to the other end of the bar. I slipped a fifty-dollar bill behind his ear.
“Keep the change.” Ignoring his question, I patted his shoulder and turned to look out at the dance floor.
The nearby women rolled their eyes at me while the men stared with lust written all over their faces. None of them caught my attention the way that I needed them to. They weren’t “the one”. Even the guy in the tailored suit with a beard wasn’t the right amount of yummy. He looked good, but not good enough.
“Here you go, kitten,” the bartender said. He was cute. But not my cup of tea.
I emitted a low growl at the sound of the pet name. Who likes to be called “kitten”? I took the shot and downed it quickly. So far, the bitter smoothness had been the best part of my night. I whined in approval. I’d need another of these soon. Winking was how I showed my gratitude to the bartender before walking away.
“I’ll be back,” I tossed over my shoulder. He