“How much of it did you drink, princess?” A finger curls under my chin, and they lift it. It takes a minute to focus but then I’m staring into a pair of the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen. So dark, endless and framed by thick black lashes beneath low dark brows. “River?”
“Yeah, Marly,” He starts to move us out of the crowd and away from the table, “How much?”
“I don’t know,” I stutter out before my stomach cramps and then tumbles, “Shit, I think I’m going to be sick!”
“Move!” River bellows and I have no idea if they do, all I know is that I’ve got to throw up and then maybe pass out. I drop onto my knees and curl over myself, the entire time hands are holding back my hair, and my face is red hot.
I didn’t taste the alcohol but I’m certainly feeling it now.
Chapter Nine
Adrenaline courses through my body as I jump out of the car, the engine still idling where I’ve stopped it beyond the finish line. I haven’t lost in seventeen races, but the feel of winning never changes. It feels fucking good to be king.
I slip the helmet off my head and tuck it under my arm, glancing to where the other racers are lining up, the drivers getting out one after the other. It was a tough race; I decided to change the track layout last minute. Sure, we could have had the standard oval track but where is the fun in that when we race nearly every night? Instead, the track is mapped out with barriers and cones and changes on a weekly basis, adding and taking out corners, changing where the straights are and the areas where you need to brake the hardest. All racers tonight had two laps to learn the track, not nearly enough but it added excitement to the race.
Jake jogs toward me, his helmet still in place. It’s a track rule, you want to race, you wear the helmet. I’ve seen too many crashes where they would have survived had they protected their head. Instead their brains ended up outside of their skull.
“Don’t know why I bother racing you,” Jake taps my shoulder, his voice muffled behind his visor.
I grin at him, “Just gotta be better.”
My cheek is still sore from the fight yesterday, the cut in my brow scabbed over but tender to touch and I know bruises litter my face, worse than they were this morning when I last looked in the mirror. Last I checked, the guy I fought was still in the hospital but expected to make a full recovery.
Running my hand through my sweat dampened hair, I look to the crowd that has grown over the last hour, wondering if she took me up on my invite and is in that crowd somewhere.
“Looks like Rach found a new victim,” I hear a guy over to the side laugh, “Poor girl can’t handle the hard stuff.”
And with that, I know I have my answer. Fuck.
I break into a jog, Jake keeping up even if he doesn’t know why I’m now running and headed straight for the beverage table knowing it’s where Rach hangs out. Sadie was with her last I checked, and she would have stopped her, but I haven’t seen Sadie since I got in my car to race. She’s usually the first one to congratulate me when I finish.
She’s like a sister to me, would have been by marriage had my brother not died and is the mother of my nephew.
I find Rach first, her black hair that shines blue in the florescent lights of the track making her easy to spot, and then I see Marly.
She’s leaning heavily on the table, her hand pressed to her temple as her legs sway beneath her and Rach is there laughing, her phone set to record.
“Marly?” I call her name, hoping she isn’t as drunk as she looks. She’s alone by the looks of it and any one of these fuckers could take advantage of her in this state. Her head lifts to the soundof my voice but she doesn’t look at me directly, instead, her brows knot in confusion. I push through the crowd around her, grabbing her just in time so she doesn’t face plant the floor.
“Shit,” I growl, whipping my head around to Rach where she is still recording, a smug little smile on her face. This chick is damn right crazy, always has been but she’s only gotten worse since I slept with her after my brother died. I was drunk and in pain and she was there to distract me. It was a mistake she’s never let go of. “You got her drunk!?”
Rach slips her phone into her back pocket, “Hey, she drank it, not like I forced it down her throat.”
I shake my head at her, pissed the fuck off.
“I’m not drunk,” Marly slurs, attempting to push off of me but I just tighten one arm and curl my finger under her chin, forcing her to look at me. It’s not concern for her, I think to myself, I need her to want to come back.
“How much of it did you drink, princess?” I ask when her eyes lift to mine. I can smell it on her breath. I know how strong that punch is and how fucking lethal it can be. It doesn’t even taste like alcohol thanks to the juice and fruit used.
“River?” Her lashes flutter, eyes unable to focus. She’s wasted.
“Yeah, Marly,” I tell her, attempting to move her out of the crowd and away from everyone watching her. “How much?”
We’re almost at the edge when she answers.
“I don’t know,” She coughs and then her hand goes to her stomach, “Shit, I think I’m about to be sick!”
“Move!” I bellow to the last few people minding their own business and they scramble out of the way in time for her to drop to her knees and empty the contents of her stomach all over the grass.
