Chapter 4 #2
When she finally emerges from the bathroom, I’m instantly second-guessing my own outfit.
Avery changes into a sleek, gorgeous navy dress and a pair of stiletto heels that make my own feet cringe in sympathy.
Her hair falls over her shoulders in loose curls, and her makeup is that perfectly minimal style she favors that’s a work of art.
Any guy would call it ‘bare-faced’ or ‘natural’ when really, it’s skill.
She knows exactly how to highlight and compliment her features without ever revealing the effort it really takes.
Her look doesn’t scream ‘high school party’ to me; she looks like she’s twenty-one and heading out to some exclusive rooftop nightclub in New York.
When I step into my Docs at the door, Avery grimaces at the sight of them, and I give her a playful nudge. We’ll see who’s laughing when we stumble home at the end of this stupid party.
Avery leads me out of the girls dorm and through the school grounds, phone in her hand and lighting the way.
We purposefully decided to arrive two hours after the party started so Joey will be drunk and high before he has a chance to see us, but the added bonus is not having to deal with a crowd.
My hand keeps slipping into my pocket and gripping my knife like a security blanket.
I gave Avery a can of mace back in our room, and she tucked it into her bra like a pro.
“Does Ash come to these parties?” I ask as we trudge through the wooded boundary of the school campus.
“Yeah, and the other two. They all get wasted and pick fights over girls.” Avery rolls her eyes and manages to look superior, even as she’s teetering precariously in her heels in the dirt.
Holding my arm out to steady her, my cheeks heat at the reminder but I keep my tone flat and unimpressed as I reply, “I bumped into Harley last year at Joey’s party.”
And, G od , do I really not want to find him like that tonight.
I’ve tried everything I can to forget that moment, but I’m assaulted by the memory at the teeniest of reminders.
The heat in his eyes as he’d stared across at me, the smirk on his face, the utter satisfaction…
fuck, I want to kill Annabelle all over again.
For having him and for clearly doing a great job, because that reaction was hard to ignore.
I’ve barely even kissed a guy, there’s no way I could pull that shit off.
It’s hard not to turn into a sullen bitch, but there’s no way of explaining the train-wreck happening in my head right now to Avery over her cousin , so I figure it the hell out.
Clearly, she still sees something suss on my face because Avery snorts as she takes my offered arm. “Let me guess, Annabelle was bent over a table.”
I side-eye her, my reply dry. “On her knees actually.”
Avery’s nose wrinkles and she shakes her head.
I want to ask her what part she’s grossed out about, or how many other girls have been shared by the guys like that because clearly, I’m a masochist when it comes to them, but the words get stuck in my throat.
Too big, too spiky, too exposing. No matter how well I word it, I know this evil genius of a girl will see through every single one until she knows all about the shameful crush I’m harboring.
I’m not sure how she would take it, but I’m not confident it would be well considering I’m stuck panting after not one, not even two, but all three of her…
people. Family, I guess? Shit, I need to get a grip, and fast.
Lost in my own misery, I don’t realize how close we’re getting to the party until we reach the stone wall that surrounds the estate.
It has a huge iron gate cut into the side of it.
A gate that’s already open. The moment we step through the entrance, strobe lights hit us and I realize that low, throbbing sound that had been building slowly as we walked is now almost deafening.
The shitty electro-pop remix bullshit shows that money can’t buy taste, but it still manages to rattle the bones in my chest, thanks to the obscene sound system set up around the so-called groundskeeper’s cottage.
Cottage is a terrible word for the building.
It’s old and dilapidated, which might be how it got the label, but the place is huge.
Like, three-stories-and-a-grand-staircase huge, and it only makes the state it’s in piss me off more.
The school is swimming in money, why would they let something like this rot away?
I find myself cringing the further in we get, like my disgust at the school board will somehow save me when the ceiling caves in.
It’s definitely going to collapse, and the pulsing beat coming from the speakers seems to be teasing the cracked plaster, coaxing it into giving up.
Avery doesn’t seem concerned about being crushed to death as she struts into the party and heads straight for the drink table.
There’re a couple of guys playing bartender and the drunk girls ordering are paying them in kisses, which are getting more and more explicit as we stand here waiting.
When Avery reaches for a bottle of snobby bubbly, the guy raises his eyebrows at her, and she gives him a ball-shriveling grin.
He looks away pretty quickly and focuses on me instead.
He gives me a smirk, putting on a fake accent that makes zero sense but the girls around me all giggle as they shoot me looks over the rims of their Solo cups. “Mounty! What’s your poison? It’ll only cost you a quick fuck. Just lie back and think of England.”
He’s pretty cocky with a table between us, but I’m limber when I need to be and I could jump it to take him out.
Avery watches the plan form in my brain and laughs as she also grabs a bottle of whiskey.
“Such a glowing review of your skills, Rafe, but rest assured, you couldn’t handle Mounty pussy. ”
I cannot believe the word pussy just came out of Avery Beaumont’s silver-spooned mouth.
She cackles at my scandalized look, offering the bottle of whiskey to me.
It’s not my favorite type, but I’m a Mounty, so it’s not like that’ll stop me.
I swig a few big gulps straight from the bottle, just enough to take the edge off and make this clusterfuck bearable.
By the time the heat of it hits my belly, the intoxicated girls are gone and Rafe is blinking at Avery like he’s staring down his executioner at the guillotine.
I shoot her a look, but she only smiles back at me with her trademark smugness. Whatever I missed, it was good.
Before I can ask for details, Avery tugs me further into the building. The crowd parts for her just enough that I’m sure it’s on purpose and not just her own navigation skills. It makes sense. Who the hell would want to body-check her, no matter how drunk they are?
“Let’s dance for a while. We should be able to find Joey while we do,” Avery shouts over the music, and I give her a sharp nod. The whiskey is doing just enough to help me overlook the playlist.
The dance area takes up the entire bottom floor of the cottage, and the only people who aren’t dancing in some way are those waiting to grab drinks.
When we get deeper into the building, I find out there’s actually a DJ responsible for this mess.
Set up at the bottom of the staircase, he has a joint dangling precariously from his lips and I hate him on sight.
Avery grins at my glare, throwing her head back to sip at the bubbly as she sways and grinds to the music.
I’m glad she’s having fun, no one deserves it more, but I’m too distracted by the pressing crowd and my own surveillance to really get into it.
Still, it’s fun to dance and laugh with her.
It takes three songs to spot Joey, and he’s practically skipping up the stairs with two barely-dressed girls under his arms. I’m not entirely sure that they’re going up there with him enthusiastically, but they seem willing enough.
I signal to Avery and we move toward the staircase.
The music is so loud here that I’m sure my eardrums are going to start bleeding, so I hurry to flee upstairs. I manage two steps before Avery’s hand clamps around my wrist and I glance back, ready to kill whoever has come to interrupt us, only to see Blaise standing over her with a frown.
Lord, help me, my stomach does a weird jolt at the sight of him. He’s fucking gorgeous in tight jeans, biker boots, and a band tee. His eyes are glazed and he’s all sweaty from dancing. I force myself to look away from him before I embarrass myself.
Avery taps out a message on her phone before she turns it to me.
He’s wasted. He said he’ll call Ash if I go upstairs because it’s practically an orgy up there.
I take the phone and reply.
Stay here. I’ll get what we came for.
Avery purses her lips at me and gives a curt nod. I try to smile reassuringly, but she’s glaring at Blaise and misses it. I wait until she tugs him back into the crowd and then I start back up the stairs.
Upstairs is definitely not an orgy.
It’s six different orgies, spread throughout the rooms.
There’s a group of wasted, half-clothed guys loitering at the landing and they all watch me as I work my way past them.
I’m clearly in a hurry and trying to avoid touching any of them, which raises some brows.
Just when I think I’m in the clear, without resorting to violence, one guy finally recognizes me and tries to coax me into the bathroom, the haze of liquor clearing from his gaze and dollar signs taking its place.
All it takes is a raised fist and a warning look to get him to back off, but I could’ve called that.
He’s completely naked, so no doubt he thought I was going to punch him directly in his dick.
It was definitely my intended target.