Rival

Rival by Penelope Douglas



This novel is dedicated to my husband. Honey, I know life without me would be unbearable, but life without you would be unbearable AND boring.




To Hubs . . .

There are so many things throughout the years,

Things you have done that have brought me to tears.

You refuse to replace the empty toilet paper roll,

Or to load the dishwasher with your messy ice-cream bowl.

I pick up your socks, and you never have to vacuum,

And I toss your empty Coke cans, which you leave in every room.

But then I think of all the wonderful things that you do,

Like stocking the zombie weaponry with guns that are new.

We have machetes, daggers, water purifiers, and radios,

And the zombies will never get our stash of SpaghettiOs.

Your skill with back rubs and burgers is no small feat,

And I love that Zebra Cakes are your favorite treat.

You put up with my drama and inappropriate humor,

And I know you wish my Fifty Shades obsession was just a rumor.

I promise to always untie you as soon as I’m through,

Because, baby, there’s no one in the world as loving as you.





ACKNOWLEDGMENTS


To my husband, who is my biggest supporter and always takes care of me. He is my partner and brightens my day with his wonderful sense of humor.

To my friends Bekke, Marilyn, Tee Tate, Ing, and Lisa—you have been constantly supportive with advice, feedback, words of encouragement, and humor. Thank you for sticking by my side.

To my agent, Jane Dystel—thank you for always being available and working so hard for me. You’re the only person who asks if I’m eating or sleeping enough, and I love how you look out for me.

To my editor, Kerry Donovan—you have been great holding my hand and making me happy during this new adventure. I am so grateful to have someone easy to talk to that cares as much about the characters as I do.

To all of the bloggers, reviewers, and readers—what a crazy ride we’ve had together, and it’s not over yet! With your love and support, I’ve been able to devote myself to writing and am so incredibly happy to be able to do this every day! Thank you, thank you, thank you for your positive comments, reviews, and promotion. You have honored me, and I hope that I continue to write stories you adore.





PROLOGUE




FALLON


There were people I liked and people I didn’t like. People I loved and people I hated.

But there was only one person I loved to hate.

“Why are you doing this?” I heard a whiny female voice ask as I rounded the hall to sophomore P.E.

I immediately halted, locking eyes on a red-faced Tatum Brandt as she faced off with my douchebag stepbrother, Madoc Caruthers, and his friend Jared Trent. They stood in the hallway next to the lockers with flat expressions, looking bored, while she clutched her backpack straps for security.

“You barked at me yesterday,” she continued, pinching her eyebrows together at Jared as Madoc smirked from behind him. “And then all of your friends followed along. It’s been forever, Jared. When are you going to stop? Why are you doing this?”

I sucked in a long breath and completed my usual awesome combination of eye-roll-head-shake.

I really hated turning corners. I hated closed doors. I hated not seeing the path ahead.

Corner #1: Your dad and I are getting divorced.

Corner #2: We’re moving. Again.

Corner #3: I’m getting married. Again.

Corner #952: I don’t really like you or my husband or his son, so I’m going to take fifteen vacations a year by myself!

Okay, my mom never really said that, but I’m damn good at interpreting shit. And corners sucked.

I hung back and stuck my hands into the pockets of my skinny jeans, waiting to see what this girl would do. Would she finally grow some balls, or at least take the little ones these idiots had? I kept hoping she would step up to the challenge, and she always disappointed me.

Tatum Brandt was a wimp.

I didn’t know much about her. Only that everyone called her Tate, except Madoc and Jared; she was a rocker on the outside, but played it safe on the inside; and she was pretty. Like cheerleader pretty.

Long blond hair? Totally.

Big blue eyes? Absolutely.

Long legs, full lips, and big boobs? Even at sixteen.

She was the perfect package, and if I were my stepbrother, I wouldn’t have any problem sticking my tongue into her mouth. Hell, I might do it anyway.