snick
I inch closer to the TV room, keeping my back to the wall as much as possible until I can risk a peek around the corner.
“…resembled a slaughterhouse…”
There’s a guy perched on the edge of the sofa, a bong pressed to his lips, water bubbling furiously inside as he takes a hit. The TV screen shows a dark room, possibly a basement, and since it’s the only source of light in the TV room, I can barely make out the guy’s features.
He leans forward to put the bong on the coffee table and then looks straight over at me.
I jump, my hand going to my throat.
“…strung up with hooks attached to the…”
“Lee?” He squints, slowly getting to his feet. “That you, Haven?”
It’s Blake, the guy I met at the party on Saturday night.
Wait…Blake stayshere?
My shoulders slump. “You’re kidding me,” I mutter, stepping out of the shadows, my arms crossing tight in front of my chest, pumps dangling from one hand. “You told Kai I was at the party the other night, didn’t you?”
Blake gives me a slow scan, a frown slowly creasing his brow.
I don’t let up. Why the fuck should I?
“Was that why you took the picture? Did he want proof before coming over?” I shake my head, letting out a frustrated chuckle. “The fucking nerve of you guys.”
Blake drags a hand through his hair. “Shit.” Then a kind of dazed, “Yeah, sorry, man. Bro code, and all.”
“Bro code include helping them stalk someone?”
I expect him to deny it, but he just gives me a lopsided smile. That must be some strong weed he’s smoking. And he’s been smoking a lot. It hangs in a thick haze between us and the television, thankfully blocking out whatever footage is being shown.
“…careful arrangement, the attention to detail…”
“Where is he?”
“Who?” Blake sits down again, looking over at the bong like he’s considering giving it another go, his fingers gingerly brushing the side of his jaw.
“Kai, who else?”
“Oh, yeah, he’s not here. Least, don’t think so. Guys said he left.” Blake squints at me. “Dude, you’re like…soaked. You want a towel or something?”
“I’m fine,” I snap.
“We got this blanket thing here?—”
“I said I’m fine!”
Blake tosses the blanket at me anyway. It reeks of stale beer, weed, and Doritos.
Grimacing, I bundle it in my hand and pretend to pat my arm with it. I’d rather go back out in the rain than really dry myself with this.
Frat guys aresogross.
“When?” I try not to sound like a total bitch, but I’m coming down from the high of almost being squashed to death by a car, and the booze is kicking in again. I don’t want to be around this guy sober, let alone drunk.
“Kai?” Blake shrugs. “Dunno. While ago, I guess.”
