Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
Zac
We should stay at our house tonight,” Jordan says to Claudia. She nods as she gathers something from Preppy Boy’s kitchen counter.
“Here.” She hands one glass to me and another to her husband. “Maybe these will help Zac loosen up a bit.” I shoot her a glare, before reluctantly throwing it back. It’s vodka.
“He’ll need both for that.” Jordan smirks, trying to hand me the other.
“Fucking idiots,” I grumble, but take it without any further protest.
I’m ready to leave this so-called fucking party already.
I hate every single fucking inch of it. Young, na?ve couples acting like they’re in love, acting up to whatever the State tells them to do.
Fucking pricks, the lot of them. I can’t say I’m best impressed by Claudia and Jordan either, the two nuzzling one another like their lives depend on it.
As the minutes pass, I take another five shots before concluding that Emilia and I have made enough of a point of being here. Get me the fuck out of here.
Claudia and Jordan are only here to take full advantage of acting like infatuated school kids, so they hardly react when I tell them I’m leaving.
The whiskey and follow up vodka shots were stronger than I’m used to, and I stumble slightly as I push through the crowd, my vision jolting and dizzying. Fucking hell. This shit is stronger than is served at the Armoury—another of our safe havens.
Stepping into the living room, I squint, trying to spot a head of blonde hair and the annoying attitude that comes with it.
Reaching out, I place a hand on the shoulder of a girl Emilia’s height, cursing as the girl turns, fluttering her lashes at me.
Gritting my teeth, I head for the edge of the room to continue scanning, frustration swelling in my gut that I’ve lost her in this sea of happy family freaks.
The room sways, and grimacing, I swiftly decide she can find me outside.
A slim girl who’s roughly the same height as Emilia slides into my path.
I glance over her from head to toe, my mind fuzzy.
Her blonde hair stops just below her shoulders, her eyes blue, but the wrong shade—they’re paler.
She has a relatively small chest, flattened beneath a white dress, and a lazy grin pulls across her lips at my roaming gaze.
Even her hair is the wrong shade of blonde.
“Well… aren’t you a dream,” she slurs. She leans up before I can register what’s happening, grabbing hold of the back of my neck and crashing her lips against mine.
My hands clamp onto her waist, eyes widening, readying to shove her back. A sudden light burns through my corneas and my head pounds, eyes blurring. Clumsily, I push her away. She stumbles, once, twice, before someone catches her.
It was only a damn flash of a second, and yet all the attention in the room is on us. My jaw tightens, instantly sobering as I find a pissed-off right-shade-of-blonde behind us, her eyes blazing.
Well, shit.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Emilia yells, fire in her eyes as she glares at me, not the girl I’ve just shoved away. It’s only then I realise the music has been turned off.
“Emilia—”
“Oi!” a voice yells across the room. “Enforcers have been spotted! Only three streets away. Go, go, go!” The room is a manic frenzy around us, the crowd squealing and hollering, barreling towards the exit.
Emilia’s expression might kill me where I stand, but she soon tears her gaze from mine to launch towards the girl who kissed me. Gently, she takes her from the guy who caught her. Scott appears beside the two of them, lifting the skinny girl’s arm over his shoulder.
“Kayla,” Emilia murmurs, hands clutching at her face. “Which number do you live at?”
“Umpfh…”
“Kayla! I need to know where you live,” Emilia pleads.
“Number 20.” It’s Preppy Boy who provides the answer, his lips pressed into a straight line as his eyes burn a hole in the side of my fucking face. My hands bunch into fists, tighter than I taught Emilia. If I move now, he won’t see me coming—
“Zac?” Claudia’s voice is quiet but harsh, as she slips through the kitchen doorway behind the fleeing stragglers, Jordan in tow. “What happened?”
“She kissed me,” I say. “I was pushing her away, but Emilia…” I trail off, shaking my head.
I’m fucking raging at her reaction, but me saying anything isn’t going to help a damn thing. Especially in front of an audience. Claudia’s eyes drift from me, to Emilia and the girl.
“Sam, help me get her home?” Emilia says; the girl’s eyes are closed, chin on her chest. Her friend nods, clearly struggling to hold her up.
“I’ll help, too.” Preppy Boy strides forward.
“No.” I straighten, stepping forward. “I’ll do it.”
Emilia’s face snaps to mine. “No, you fucking won’t.”
“Emilia—”
“Fuck off, Zac,” she snaps.
The boys rally around her, helping to carry the drunk girl out of the house. Heidi trails on their heels, leaving four of us behind. I don’t know for sure, but one look at Nina’s face, and I’m almost positive that mine has the same frustrated expression.
“Fucking hell,” I mutter under my breath. Comparing myself to a dramatic wannabe idiot. I’m definitely fucking drunk. Shaking my head, I storm out of the house. I run a hand through my hair, hearing Claudia and Jordan on my heels.
“You have to go back to Number 8, Zac.”
“I know. The Enforcers are lurking. I’m not stupid.”
Jordan’s brow furrows. Claudia bites her lip.
“Good luck, mate,” Jordan mutters.
I shake my head. “If I’m lucky, this means she won’t speak to me for the next week,” I mutter, though the words taste bitter as they slip through my lips.
Claudia frowns, but before she can reply, I dip my head and say goodbye.
I storm back to Number 8, fists clenched. Shoving the key in the lock, I twist, entering the dark house and closing the door behind me. Exhaling, I drag a hand down my face and groan.
There’s a low hum of voices from outside. Slowly, I inch towards the window, peering out.
My eyes fall onto the familiar couple, their foreheads nearly touching as they murmur to one another and the sight of her long blonde ponytail has something feral rising to the surface.
I curse under my breath as I close the distance, wrenching the door open.
Reaching out, I grab his denim jacket, yanking him away from her and pushing him into the street.
“Zac! What the fuck?” Emilia yells, taking a step towards Preppy Boy before I reach out and grab her, pulling her against my chest. “Rayden,” she calls.
I grimace at the sound of another boy’s name falling from her mouth.
He scowls, stepping towards me as Emilia struggles in my hold. “Get off of her!”
“There. Are. Enforcers,” I snap. “En-fucking-forcers. But hey, you idiots just snuggle up in the middle of the street. Get Nina and I killed along with you whilst you’re at it.”
“Better than kissing a girl in the middle of a crowded party,” Emilia mutters.
My jaw tics, but I continue to glare at the blond prick who’s frowning at me. “Go. Now,” I snap.
“Don’t tell him what to do.”
“I was shoving that girl away,” I growl without a second thought. I almost recoil at the words—why the hell am I justifying myself to her?
She scoffs. “Like I’m going to believe that.”
“Believe what you fucking want, Emilia,” I snap. “But don’t fucking parade around on the street with Enforcers around the corner. How fucking dumb are you?”
“Don’t you dare call me dumb—”
“Uhh…” Raymond mutters. The two of us look at him, just as he points down the street, the outline of armed Enforcers turning the corner.
“Go,” I say, voice biting as I drag Emilia into the house.
He hesitates.
“It’s fine, Ray! I’ll be fine. Go.”
“You sure?”
I slam the door in his face.