Chapter 9
NINE
Picking an outfit for a party I don’t want to go to, with rich kids I hate to be around, is its own special form of torture.
I’m not going to wear a dress on a cold night in the woods, though something tells me I’ll be the only girl who doesn’t, and my selection of jeans is tiny.
Finally, I go with a dark, distressed denim, and I pair them with a fitted lacy top and Doc Martens.
After I pull my hair up into a high ponytail, I do a smoky eye and nude lip color because, despite my Mounty status at the school, I can make myself look great if I need to.
I give myself a once-over in my mirror and try not to let dread creep in.
Going to Joey’s party is a dangerous idea.
I have no real friends or even allies around to watch my back, which is a first. I was already the Wolf when I first went out drinking.
The Jackal bought me my first-ever bottle of vodka when I moved into the group home, but I didn’t touch it until after I won the Game.
One thing is certain—I will not be getting drunk tonight. As a final precaution, I slip my Matriarch serrated knife into my pocket. It’s easily the most expensive thing I’ve ever bought, and it’s gotten me out of trouble more than once.
Joey arrives at my door a little after our ten p.m. curfew, dressed in a crisp white shirt and pressed black slacks.
There aren’t flashy logos on them, but that only means they’re probably more expensive than anything I’ve ever laid eyes on.
I try not to flinch away from his eyes as he slowly inspects every inch of my body, like I belong to him.
“Wow. I thought after seeing your nudes I’d seen everything you had on offer, but you clean up good, Mounty.”
“Gee, thanks.” I make sure my tone is dry as fuck, and he laughs.
“Come on now, I didn’t mean anything by it! I’m just giving you a compliment, jeez. Let’s head down, the underclassmen should have it all set up by now.”
He holds out his arm, and I reluctantly slip my own around it. He smells like something expensive and sinful, but it does nothing for me. I can’t be in his presence without seeing him slapping that kid’s tray and covering him in scalding soup.
We walk out of the girls’ dorms, and even though I know he practically owns the school, it still shocks me that the teachers we bump into just turn on their heels and walk away without a word. It should be an instant expulsion for him setting foot up here, but he’s untouchable.
There’s a crowd already forming, flowing down and out of the building, a mass exodus into the woodlands and toward the free booze.
I’m sure I’m the only one who really cares about the free part.
It’s colder than I thought it would be, and I curse myself for not throwing on a jacket.
I don’t recognize any of the faces around me as juniors, but I do see quite a few of the senior boys who have approached me for sex, and my face sets like concrete into an icy look.
“Don’t worry about them, Mounty. Let’s get you a drink to loosen you up a bit. You can’t dance if you’re that pissed off.” Joey’s tone is thick and smooth, I’m sure it worked wonders on that bitch, Harlow.
He tugs me over to the small clearing and begins to pour drinks from a loaded table.
He does a pathetic job. Truly terrible. I could have wiped the floor with him at any bar in the state.
I glance around and see a sound system pumping out shitty pop music that makes me grit my teeth, but there’s already drunk girls in tiny skirts dancing around.
I was right about the dress code. Joey hands me a cocktail that’s some godforsaken mashup of a daiquiri and a mojito, and I down the whole thing in two gulps.
“Atta’ girl! Another?”
“Fuck no. You may be rich, but you’re shit at this.”
I push him out of the way as he roars with laughter, like this is friendly banter and not a scathing assessment.
I swipe a bottle of tequila and drink it straight.
I hear the tinkling of laughter that says Joey’s friends have arrived and they’re enjoying watching the poor girl drink.
He steps away to greet them, and I feel the sinking sensation of unease pooling in my stomach, but I drown it with another swig of alcohol.
I need to have enough of a buzz to survive this, but I’ll have to walk the line carefully.
I can’t lose my head, or I might lose something else.
Joey walks back over and says, “Dance with me.”
It’s not a request. He holds out his hand expectantly.
I’d rather choke, but I take it anyway and let him lead me to where the other students are grinding on each other in time with the beat.
I take the tequila with me, and Joey grabs the bottle to have a swig of his own.
I don’t want to drink from the same bottle as him, but when he lifts the rim to my lips, I have no choice but to take it.
His arms drop to my waist and he pulls me in tight against him.
I hate every single thing about this, but I go along with it.
I can feel the haze of alcohol start to come over me, and my limbs grow warm and loose. Joey twirls me in his arms, and as I turn, I see the girls around us glaring at me. They all want to be where I am. They all want Joseph Beaumont.
Rich kid parties have nothing on the parties at Mounts Bay.As the night drags on, there’s music and dancing, drinks overflowing, and drugs being passed around.
I’ve seen two blowjobs and one girl bent over a fallen tree with a guy pumping away behind her.
Overall, it’s pretty tame. I’m enjoying my buzz, and I’m surprised to find I’m not hating the eyes that follow me around the party.
Being here with Joey means no other guys approach me, but that doesn’t mean they don’t watch me dance.
I’ve always loved the catharsis of moving and gyrating to the music.
It’s even better with tequila coursing through my veins.
When the bottle that’s passed between us is finally empty, Joey pulls away and whispers in my ear, “I need something a bit stronger.”
I hate the feeling of his breath on my neck, but I smile and nod like a good guest. He leaves, bumping shoulders with his friends, and they take off into the denser section of the woods. I twirl and spin until the song finishes, and then I stumble over to a lawn chair set up near the drinks table.
I can’t see where Joey has disappeared to, and I’m starting to get suspicious that his ‘something stronger’ is narcotics.
I need to find a discreet way of leaving this party before he gets back, because there is no way in hell I’m going to be around drugs.
My mother was a hard lesson to learn, but boy, did I learn it.
I’m gathering the energy to get up and leave when Harlow and three other girls sit down around me. They’re all in tiny dresses, high shoes, and shivering like crazy. I groan and level her with a look.
“Well, you’re clearly better at this than we originally gave you credit for! Bagging Joey as your first Hannaford fuck.”
Harlow is a tall girl, she has a good foot on me, and I know she enjoys playing basketball, but I’m sure that even with half a bottle of spirits under my belt, I could beat her in a fight.
“I’m not fucking him. I’m not going to, either.”
The tinkling sounds of their giggles makes my jaw clench. It’s so fake and grates on me something wicked. “We all know he brought you here. He wouldn’t do that unless he wanted something in return.”
“He can want all he likes. That doesn’t mean I’m going to sleep with him.”
One of the girls, a platinum blonde with fire-engine red lips, leans in toward me, and I can smell the whiskey on her breath.
“His family is richer than God. Why wouldn’t you fuck him?
Maybe your Mounty cunt will bewitch him, and you’ll never have to worry about who’s paying for your clothes and shoes again. ”
Clothes and shoes. Yep, that’s my biggest concern. I roll my eyes at her and stand up. Harlow’s hand shoots out and grabs my wrist hard. I freeze and glare down my nose at her.
“Don’t fall for him, Mounty. Don’t you even try to get your claws into him.” Her voice is dark as she stakes her claim.
I shake her off and walk in the direction of the school to the sounds of their tittering. I don’t see Joey, but that suits me just fine. I’ll tell him I got cold and bailed, tomorrow.
I can hear the distinctive sounds of students having sex as I stumble out of the clearing.
It’s such a cliché; these kids could sneak into each other’s rooms, but instead they’re out here freezing their asses off to get laid.
I try not to look at any of them closely, since I have no interest in anyone's sex life, but as I get to the edge of the woods, I look up… and make eye contact with Harley.
He's leaning against a tree.
There's a girl kneeling at his feet, her head bobbing as she sucks his dick.
I freeze. I can't look away, and Harley doesn't break eye contact either. He doesn't look shocked or embarrassed to see me. He looks blissed out and smug as the girl goes to town on him. I can't see who it is, and I'm glad. My skin feels all hot and prickly. I'm jealous.
I guess I really am broken.
Harley quirks an eyebrow at me, but he doesn't call out or wave me off.
He just stares at me. I can feel my face heating up and beads of sweat forming on the back of my neck, despite the brisk breeze.
Why can't I leave? I shouldn't be standing here watching this!
But my traitorous body won't move. I begin to pant as a loud moan rips out of Harley's chest, and then he shudders as he starts to come. His hand digs into the girl’s hair as he pulls her head back and thick, white streams of his cum land on her face.
He shuts his eyes and I finally bolt for the school.
I get as far as the light-horseman statue at the front of the school before I hear Joey call out to me. I curse under my breath as I turn around, and I'm still shaking from watching Harley… finish. Jesus fucking wept.
“Hey! The party just barely started. Don’t bail on me now, Mounty!”
Joey’s voice is strange, hyper and excited like I’ve never heard it before.
His sleeves are pushed up around his elbows so I can check for track marks, and I’m relieved to see none.
It doesn’t mean he’s not smoking something, but at least he wasn’t injecting heroin.
The relief only lasts for a second before I remember that my mom used to inject between her toes so her boss wouldn’t find out, then I’m glaring at his shoes to see if they look messed with.
I don’t care about him at all, I just hate the hard drugs so much that I need to know if he’s using.
If he is, I’m going to stop playing this little game of ours and freeze him out completely.
He catches up to me and throws his arm around my waist, pulling me into his body, and I smell it.
Cocaine.
The good shit too; all sweet and floral and none of the chemical scent that comes with poor product.
I’m sure anyone else smelling him wouldn’t notice the faint odor, but my mom spent a summer dating a cocaine dealer and he would pack his little Ziplock baggies in our living room in the morning before I would head off to school.
The second I smell it on Joey, I’m back in that tiny goddamn living room.
I freeze as he pulls me into his body tightly.
“Come back to my room, we can party there instead,” he murmurs.
I’m going to scrub my neck when I get back to my room because he just keeps breathing on me.
I can feel the tremble in his arms, and I know he's high. I'd never been hugged by my mom without feeling that vibration under her skin. I should leave him, walk off and enjoy my buzz in my room by myself, but stupidly, I feel like I should see him to the safety of his dorm, at least. I know he would never do the same for me, but that doesn’t mean I have to stoop to his level, right? One last good deed for this dickhead, then I’ll never speak to him again.
“Lead the way.”
I feel him chuckle, but the wind drowns out the sound. He begins to babble incessantly, and I ignore him.
My mom’s addiction made some sense. She was a foster kid herself after my grandparents died in a house fire.
She made it out of the blaze in the nick of time, and half her body was covered in thick scars.
She had never been smart or motivated like I am, and she dropped out of school at fourteen.
She worked as a waitress, a dock worker, in the factories, anything she could to eat and keep a roof over her head.
Then she got knocked up and found drugs.
I’d never known her sober. The woman I knew was a shaking, cackling, retching, screaming banshee that would beat anyone if the demons in her head told her to.
Something about me set them off all the time.
Joey’s addiction most likely stemmed from boredom, and that's what makes me so angry. All the privilege in the world and he decides to snort cocaine instead of making something of himself. I wonder if the twins know what their brother is getting himself into. Is this why they’re so afraid of him?
Cocaine tends to make people ecstatic and happy, usually not causing the deep and cruel violence of other narcotics, but that doesn’t mean he’s a good person to be around.
We arrive at the boys’ dorms and climb the stairs to the seniors’ floor.
I wonder if Ash is downstairs or if he, too, was in the woods getting off with some girl.
I shake my head at myself. Pathetic. It doesn’t matter what any of those boys are doing.
I don’t even let myself think about Blaise. Seeing Harley was bad enough.
We stop outside the end room, and Joey shoves the door open. Not locked. I’m guessing the other guys know exactly what will happen to them if they dare to enter this room. I push Joey’s arm off my waist, but his hand latches onto my wrist.
“Come in, little Mounty girl.”
I pull against his grip, but his fingers tighten like a vice. He’s easily twice the size of me.
He shuts the door behind us, closing me inside.