“Fuck this,” I mutter. If I’d wanted to become a babysitter, I’d have posted an ad on the town’s bulletin board.
I leave the bathroom, putting my revolver back in its place inside the nightstand. Last night’s bourbon is still here, right beside last night’s glass.
Fuck the ice.
I pour a generous shot and drain it, closing my eyes to better experience the smokey sting sliding over my tongue and throat.
Then I down another.
Next is the small leather traveling bag from my nightstand. Measuring out two lines of coke from a small baggie, I snort them both, tipping my head back and closing my eyes as the rush hits me.
“Fuuuck,” comes a voice behind me.
I twist on the bed to look behind me, frowning at Kai. He’s staring at me with owlish eyes, one hand on his pec, the other on his stomach.
“Dude, this fabric…” He drops his chin to his chest, rubbing his hands over the soft fabric of the white t-shirt I took out for him.
I was right about his hand. Looks like he pummeled someone.
I huff through my nose and then look back at the faint traces of coke left on my nightstand. I wet the pad of my finger and run it through, gathering up every crumb.
“Come here, Kai.”
Fuck restraint.
Tonight I find out just how far I can bend them before they break.
Chapter 6
Kai
This shit is messing with my head, big time. Seconds ago, I was in iPhone’s Escalade, telling them to follow Rooke’s car.
I made them drop me off, because I had no fucking idea what I was walking into, and I didn’t want them involved either way. Didn’t take much convincing. They wanted to get back to the party, so they caved pretty quickly.
Then Rooke was low-key accusing me of something, but I know Ezra’s okay, because I tried to strangle that fucker once and he just walked it off.
So why’d Rooke let me in? Why’s he letting me shower, instead of calling the cops? Unless he wanted me here, because this was always part of some sick game I don’t understand.
Never mind any of that shit, why the fuck isHavenhere? If she needed a safe space, he could have taken her back to GAZ.
What the fuck is this guy’s agenda? And why does part of me want to stay, even when I know some fucked up shit’s about to happen?
Morbid curiosity, I guess.
Now he’s got me dressed in his—super freaking soft and fluffily delicious—clothes, and I don’t know what the fuck I’m even doing with my life right now.
My hand hurts like hell though.
“Come here, Kai.”
He’s not wearing a shirt. Doesn’t seem like he’s in a rush to put one on, either. Dude’s not buff, but he doesn’t have to be. He’s got that type of build that looks good with or without muscle. Lean, strong. But he seriously needs some sun on him, because he’s way too pale.
Maybe chicks dig that these days. Who the fuck knows?
A flicker of intense heat radiates through my lower spine when I realize I’m staring,wondering.
Fuck. You’d think I’m fucking into him, the way I’m?—
