Page 119 of Raise Hell

“Would it be better if I pretend like it’s an accident?”

Drake chokes on a laugh before swallowing it back. “Probably not.”

Cole sidles up and throws his arm around Anya’s shoulders. “You guys making a circuit?”

“I think we’re heading back to the living room,” Drake says lightly. “You two go ahead.”

Cole stares at us for a beat too long. He has a look on his face that I can’t quite decipher. He turns away when he realizes I’m staring at him. “Got it.”

Felicia hesitates, but Drake gestures for her to follow Anya and Cole, surprising me. From the expression on her face, it surprises her too. He must really want to be alone with me to let his sister wander through a Havoc House party.

“Stick with Anya,” he says to her retreating back.

The overprotective brother hasn’t completely left the building.

“Having fun?” I ask when he faces me again.

“Always. After you.”

We wander into the living room that seems to be even more crowded than it was before. I’m not claustrophobic, but we have to be violating some sort of fire code at this point. It’s barely fifty degrees outside, but I’m practically sweating from all this body heat.

Drake guides me in front of the projector screen. It’s gone blank. Someone must have turned off the game footage.

There is barely enough space to move as people crowd in around us.

My hands instinctively slip into my pockets, fists clenching on empty air.

“Have you seen my rosary?” I ask as casually as I can, while shouting over the music. “I swear I had it in my pocket yesterday, but now I can’t find it.”

“No, sorry. Maybe you dropped it somewhere.”

“I couldn’t find it after I put my jacket back on last night.”

“You probably dropped it in the chapel. Have you looked there?”

I already have. An hour on my hands and knees with a flashlight didn’t do any good. I’d retraced my steps from the door of the church to the altar.

No rosary.

It bothers me that he doesn’t seem concerned. Not because a rosary is so impossible to replace, but I already told him it has sentimental value. A more normal reaction would be to offer to help me look.

“Just let me know if you see it.”

“Sure thing.”

It would take an idiot not to notice how distracted he seems.

I take a sip of my whiskey. The burn of hard liquor moving down my throat is a welcome distraction that only lasts about a second.

“You haven’t touched your drink.”

Drake glances down at the drink in his hand as if he only just noticed it. He takes a sip and grimaces. “Nolan puts cranberry juice in everything.”

“He seems like the kind of guy who likes to order the girliest drink on the menu.”

“Don’t let him hear you say that.”

The banter is the same as it’s always been, but something in his tone is different.

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