Chapter 1 Gedeon #2
As if I ever did. She was the one getting us into trouble, her and Zion. Conall and I spent half of our time running after these two to keep them in line.
Keeping her close, I navigated us closer to Conall, where he sat in front of the crackling blaze. Heat blasted my exposed skin as I kept the swaying-on-her-feet Damia out of the harm’s way.
“Take care of her,” I told Conall once she had plopped her ass down on the log next to him.
He pulled her into his side. “Always do.”
Whether that meant letting her make a mess of herself or tucking her into bed was to be seen.
Conall’s true intentions took different shapes depending on his mood.
Though one thing was for certain—he collected each piece of information like his survival depended on it.
Which also meant if he ever spoke up, you were fucked. The prick knew too much.
Toying with the hem of her favorite skirt, Damia pursed her lips. “You need to relax.”
“I am relaxed,” I said, pouring whatever concoction her grandfather had brewed onto the dried-out moss, far away from the fire. The brown liquid could burn down cities.
She sighed. “Getting rid of our drinks is not relaxing.”
“I have more.” Zion jumped up, swaying in the short distance between the log and the blaze. The idiot was going to fall into it.
Before he could produce another bottle from the pile resting under a maple tree, I blocked his way. “How much did you drink tonight?”
“Like I’m”—Hiccup—“telling you.” He moved to push past me, tripped, and would have face-planted into the ground if not for me seizing the back of his navy t-shirt.
The chatter of our friends lounging around drowned the sound of tearing seams. Nothing out of the ordinary, except out of all nights to get smashed, the moron had chosen the one before the big meeting tomorrow morning.
“Come on.” I glided an arm around his waist, righting him, his own resting on my shoulders. “Let’s get you home.” Taking his wrist, I imitated a wave at Conall and Damia. “Say bye-bye to your friends.”
He ripped his hand out of my grasp. “You’re lucky”—Hiccup—“you’re pretty.” Hiccup. “I would—” Hiccup. “Oh, for fuck’s—” Hiccup. “Hate—” Hiccup. “Enou—” His tirade mellowed out into a half-growl, half-grunt, and I used it as an opportunity to lead him away from everyone.
Night’s stillness escorted us during our short walk from the forest and into the grassy field surrounding my parents’ compound.
Still hiccupping, Zion leaned heavily onto me, and I thanked the fortune for our homes being located not far from the outskirts. He bordered on the brink of passing out, and although he was a year younger than me, he packed enough muscle to test my own weight.
Dumb luck probably had chosen us as its target because the streets were surprisingly desolate for a summer night. Yet it ran away right as we reached Zion’s family’s two-story house. Warm light poured out of his parents’ and Ayla’s bedroom windows.
Quietly cursing, I steered us down another street, carefully evading the potholes dotting the middle of the road.
Walking down a sidewalk had ceased being an option.
Apparently, Zion had decided it was a playground.
The dumbass wouldn’t stop trying to balance on the curb.
Unsuccessfully, obviously. Which also led to him sporting a cut on his bottom lip.
At least his hiccups had relented.
“Wait!” He stopped dead in his tracks. “My home is supposed to be back there.” His head swiveled back and forth. “Where is it? Is it gone? It’s gone, isn’t it?”
“You can crash at mine.” I pushed him to move along. “Your whole family is awake.”
The last time I had brought him home drunk, I had to suffer through the tirade his mother had given both of us about being responsible.
Truth be told, I hadn’t been completely sober that evening, but I would rather endure another year at school than sit still for a full hour while his mom reproached us and then made us clean their house as punishment.
Zion snickered. “Are you taking me to your bed?”
As we neared my family’s one-story house, its fresh coat of white pain bright even in the gloom, I searched my pockets for keys. “You can sleep on the floor.”
“Pffffft.” He slumped against the sky-blue door. “I have a list, you know.”
“What list?” Grunting, I hauled him away so I could unlock the door. “And be quiet,” I added as we entered.
Unsurprisingly, he immediately lost his balance and hit the first door in the dark hallway. Luck be damned, it led to the bathroom and not my parents’ bedroom.
“The liiist,” he loudly whispered. “You kn—.”
I slapped a hand over his mouth. “Shut up.”
His mumbles were incomprehensible, and I somehow managed to pull him into my room.
Without hesitation, he dumped himself on my bed, startling Dusk enough for her to leap off the mattress and rub around my legs, her black fur concealing her in the darkness drowning my bedroom.
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “I said you could take the floor.”
“Hrgh,” he grunted, his face shoved into my pillow, legs spread across the mattress.
I should have left him on his parents’ doorstep. Except he likely would have blabbed about me getting him there. For the life of me, he could not keep his mouth shut when inebriated.
And his mother’s wrath… Now that woman was the sweetest in the world, would bake you chocolate chip cookies for no reason other than her kindness, but break one of the three rules she would have etched in stone if such a possibility existed, and her ire stalked you for days.
“I swear I will beat your ass in training tomorrow,” I grumbled, but unlaced Zion’s mottled sneakers and scrunched my nose at the stink of his sweaty feet. If he was not lying on my bed, I would have poured a bucket of cold water on him.
“On your side,” I barked to wake him up. I didn’t need him suffocating on his vomit if he got sick.
“Mh— I li—.” His slurs grew incoherent, but he shifted as I had ordered. “…you.”
After ridding myself of my clothing, I collapsed beside him. Dusk leaped onto the bed to curl up on my chest as usual, her weight a comforting presence.
Scratching behind my cat’s pointy ears, I stared at the ceiling, sinking into the sea of Zion’s light snoring. Why I could not leave him to deal with his foolish actions and their consequences by himself, I had no idea.