I doubted it but also wasn’t going to argue the point with him. From where we sat on the kitchen floor, though, I’d just spotted some bottles of whiskey at the bottom of the pantry.
“Look, this is probably a bad idea,” I murmured, crawling across to the whiskey to pull it out. “But is it too early to start drinking?”
Rhett barked a laugh, taking the bottle from me. “Tell me something about yourself, Billie Bellerose. Where are your ancestors from?”
Confused, I shrugged. “Uh, my parents are both from Michigan. Mason, Michigan.”
Rhett leveled me a dry look, then sighed and pushed up off the floor while unscrewing the bottle cap. “Okay, well you’ll probably be shocked to know that Rhett Silver was not my given name.”
“What?” I gasped sarcastically. “I don’t believe it. You didn’t come out of your mother with a mohawk and piercings, rocking a little baby guitar?”
Rhett’s smile turned brittle, then he shrugged off the mood shift as fast as it came. “Uh, not even slightly. Anyway, I feel like it's time I told you thatmyancestors”—he poured a heavy dash of whiskey into each of our coffees—“were Irish.” He winked, then handed me my mug. “Cheers.”
Chuckling as I understood where he’d been going with that question, I took the mug and held it up to clink his. “Cheers,” I replied, then took a sip.
Wow. Strong. Delicious, though.
“Jace is gonna be so mad if he comes back and we’re drunk,” Rhett warned, leading the way through to the living room with the rest of the bottle in his hand.
I smiled, sitting down on the sofa. “Good. Pissing Jace off is my new favorite pastime, although getting day drunk is not the smartest idea under our current circumstances, I suppose. Working together to stay alive and all that.”
“Well, based on how far we drove from the nearest town when Brenda dropped us off, I’d say he won’t be back for hours yet. So… we may as well drink now and sober up before he gets back.”
I took a mouthful of my Irish coffee. “On a scale of one to ten, how dumb would it be? I mean… after last night, we should stay alert and ready to run and shit. Right?”
Rhett looked me dead in the eye as he answered. “Twenty. But no one other than the people we trust even know we’re here. And Angelo. Okay, sure, it wouldn’t take a genius to work out we might be in a nearby house if someone was super motivated but… live in the moment? Also my nerves could really use some calming. Yours?”
I grimaced. “Fuck it.” The rest of my coffee disappeared in a matter of mouthfuls and Rhett followed suit.
“Truth or dare, Thorn,” he drawled, taking my empty mug and putting it on the coffee table alongside his own.
I chuckled, eyeing him with suspicion. “What are we, thirteen?”
“Come on, Billie, we’ve got nowhere to be, nothing to do”—his gaze turned suggestive—“unless you wanna just have sex?”
I choked on the mouthful of liquor that I’d just taken straight from the bottle.
“Too soon?” Rhett mused. “Fair enough. So, truth or dare?”
My face must have been onfire,it was so hot. “Um, truth I guess.” Because I had a feeling he was likely to dare me to do something like sit on his face. Not that I was against the idea… but things were still awkward. We needed to get to know each other all over again, and maybe a tipsy game oftruthwas perfect for that.
Rhett wasn’t easing into anything, though. “How’d you get the burn scar on your back?”
Shock kicked my pulse into a higher gear, and I bit the inside of my cheek for a moment to try and get a grip. “Just… going for the jugular, huh?”
Fuck. That conjured up vivid pictures of Flo’s throat being slit, andthatwas something I’d happily erase from my brain with the help of more booze. I took another gulp, choking and spluttering before handing the bottle to Rhett.
“I was in a fire,” I croaked, trying to skate by on minimal information.
Rhett rolled his eyes. “No shit. Give me more than that, Thorn. I saw how you freaked out when Jace punched Angelo into the campfire. I might have been high, but I wasn’tthatmessed up.”
Fair point. I had to know it was coming.
“When I was sixteen,” I said quietly, my eyes on the threadbare couch as though not looking at him meant I wasn’t really talking aboutmylife, “someone set my parent’s house on fire. With us inside. They didn’t make it, but Angelo saved me.” Tears pricked at the backs of my eyes, but I pushed them away. It was in the past. Ancient history. I was over it… right?
“Someonesetthe fire?” Rhett asked, leaning forward and bracing his elbows on his knees. “It wasn’t an accident?”
I scoffed. “Unless it was also an accident that all the windows were nailed shut and the doors barricaded? Of course, that couldn’t be proven when there was nothing left of the house. But I know. I still remember the sheerterrorof realizing we were trapped in there.”
