Page 45 of Raise Hell

Nolan is the one holding up a glass bottle of indiscriminate brown liquor, and I sidle up to him.

I already know what it is — Havoc Delight.

“What’s going on here?” I ask, striving to keep anything but mild curiosity out of my voice.

“We found ourselves a pretty little gatecrasher.” He holds up the bottle and shouts loudly. “And what do you get when you crash a Havoc party?”

Everyone around us shouts back in unison. “Lit the fuck up or kicked the fuck out!”

“Those are the rules. Do five shots in a row of whatever this is, and you get to stay.” He brings the bottle to his nose and sniffs it, making a show of gagging. “The pledges really outdid themselves this time. I think I smell Kahlúa and limoncello in here. Yikes.”

I’m pretty sure Felicia has never had more than a few sips of wine. “How many has she done?”

“It only took two to get her up on the table. Then one more before she almost fell off again. Since she has been nice enough to put on a little show for us, I’m giving her a minute before she has to down the other two. Damn, life is good.”

Havoc Delight is where all the leftovers go at the end of the night. When the pledges do clean up after a party, we make them collect every bit of alcohol that happens to be in the house. Any unfinished shots abandoned on tables, dregs from the punchbowl, all of it gets mixed up together and saved for the next party.

Havoc Delight is guaranteed to make even the hardiest livers shrivel up on the spot.

“I’ll take her last two shots.” Olivia elbows in between us, her face set like a pit bull that’s about to charge. “And I’m a gatecrasher, too, so I guess that makes seven total.”

Somehow, she keeps managing to surprise me.

I hate that.

“Pretty and capable of doing basic addition. Be still, my blackened heart.” Nolan cups one hand around his mouth as he shouts. “Will she stay upright for Havoc Delight?”

The crowd roars as Olivia is shoved forward. Without missing a beat, she grabs Felicia’s hand and pulls her down from the table. Not making it obvious, she pushes Felicia in my direction before turning back to Nolan with what I can only assume is her usual expression of disdainful boredom.

I never thought I’d be glad to see all the attention focused on Olivia Pratt.

My sister beams up as she stumbles into me. I wrap an arm around her waist to keep her from falling.

“I’m having so much fun,” she slurs.

Her dress is still riding up enough that anyone paying attention is getting a full view of her ass. I resist the urge to yank the curtains down and wrap her up in them.

“It won’t seem fun when you’re kneeling over a toilet in a few hours.”

“That’s funny.” Felicia hiccups and giggles again. “You’re always so funny.”

Just the other day, she was railing at me for being the exact opposite. Her exact words were that I’m a chauvinistic piece of shit who bangs everything that moves while expecting her to stay a virgin until she’s forty.

She wasn’t wrong, but that isn’t the point.

I know I should get her out of here while I have the chance. But I hesitate as Olivia gets up on the table. She holds out her hand for the shot Nolan poured like a queen accepting tribute from her most loyal subject.

How does this girl manage to turn everything on its head, so even the most humiliating things seem like her idea?

I’d admire that if I didn’t hate her so much.

Olivia takes the first shot like a champ, barely even grimacing as the foul-tasting liquid slides down her throat. She tosses the shot the glass back to Nolan and crosses her arms over her chest as if to say is that all you got.

I remember taking shots of Havoc Delight in my pledge days. That shit is enough to make you vomit, and it doesn’t taste much different coming up than it does going down.

But she barely seems fazed as Nolan hands her the refilled shot glass. I notice the hesitation before she brings the glass to her lips, but it’s so quick that I doubt anyone else sees it.

If she feels afraid at all, Olivia does a remarkable job of hiding it.

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