“No, I didn’t upset nobody, Mr. Star,” Junior promised. “I just mebbe scared the hell outta this lil guy.” He elbowed Landon. “Jumpy lil thing, ain’t he?”
Landon scrambled closer to Noah.
“Everything’s cool,” Noah soothed, trying to remember to mind his manners despite how gross he felt.
“Why does he have a gun?” Landon spoke out of the side of his mouth as if Junior wouldn’t be able to hear him.
“Free country. Second amendment.” Noah flashed a friendly smile. “It’s fine, Landon. Now shut the fuck up.” He sighed when Alistair frowned disapprovingly at him. “Please.”
“Look at that.” Alistair smirked smugly. “You can be taught.”
“You want me to get you another glass, Mr. Star?” Junior eyed the hurricane glass Alistair’s tequila concoction had come in that he was currently drinking the rum out of. “I didn’t knows you was gonna be drinkin’ that crap too.”
“When in Rome, as they say.” Alistair smiled. “It’s fine, Junior. Really.”
“Okay, Mr. Star. If yous say so.”
Noah tried to take another drink, but his stomach was getting worse. The thumping bass from the speakers was now pounding in his head, and the crowd of people was turning into a spinning blur of color.
Oh, this wasn’t good.
“Noah?” Alistair frowned. “Are you all right?”
“Mmm. I don’t feel so good.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I think… I’m gonna fuckin’ spew.”
Chapter 9
The last thing Noah remembered before passing out was Junior passionately complaining about how heavy he was. Everything went black after that, and his body was floating in total darkness. He was cold, shaking all over, and…
The next thing he knew, he was in bed with a cold cloth on his forehead. Blearily opening his eyes revealed he was in Alistair’s room, and Alistair himself was holding the cloth.
Wait, no, not Alistair’s room.
It was still Uncle Patrick’s.
Noah was nauseated by the thought as much as by whatever the hell had hit him at the party. He’d only had one drink, barely half of another, and a sip of that nasty Malibu shit Landon had given him.
“There you are.” Alistair’s eyes lit up, and he smiled. “I was beginning to worry.”
“The fuck happened?” Noah grumbled.
“Still trying to work that out. Mace believes the rum was tampered with. We had several guests experience similar episodes of vomiting and unconsciousness.”
“Christ. Is everybody okay?”
“Yes. No unwanted consequences befell anyone except the pool will definitely need to be cleaned tomorrow.”
“Fuckin’ nasty… but everyone is really okay?”
“Yes, dear Noah.” Alistair smiled. “Mace and Crybaby sorted out the ill guests, and they’re resting.”
“Okay. Good.” Noah took a deep breath. “Well, fuck. What a lame ass party.”
“I’ve certainly attended worse.”
