Page 46 of Raise Hell

Something else that earns my very grudging respect.

Nolan is in rare form as he calls for bets on how long she’ll last. The house record is ten shots, held by some enterprising freshman about a decade ago who became treasurer of Havoc House before moving on to being named chairman of the Federal Reserve.

“You need some water, sweetheart?” Nolan asks pleasantly after the next shot triggers a coughing fit.

“Fuck off,” Olivia replies just as sweetly. “Just give me the next one and shut up.”

Someone shouts from the crowd that they’re putting a hundred down on her making it through all seven shots.

Nobody takes him up on it.

Nolan’s smile is so wide it practically cracks his face in half. “Give us a little dance, and I’ll only make you do one more after this one.”

Olivia downs the shot. Her breath whooshes out on a heavy exhale. When she speaks again, her voice is hoarse. “Stop talking to me, and I’ll do three more after this one.”

Instead of getting offended, Nolan laughs and pours another shot. “I’m starting to like this girl. I guess we’ll call it even at two.”

I want to walk away. There is no reason I should care what happens to Olivia Pratt.

No one asked her to come here. Even more, I specifically threatened her with dire consequences if she did.

But I still don’t walk away.

I remember what she looked like when I found her in the woods last year, broken and bleeding.

And the person who did that might still be at St. Bart’s. They could be right here at this party tonight.

What happened last year crossed a huge fucking line. The kind of line that separates humanity from the darkness. Just because I understand the need to get rid of Olivia, doesn’t mean I want to see that happen again.

Felicia slumps against my chest with her eyes closed. She isn’t exactly unconscious, but I can tell she won’t remember much about any of this tomorrow. I really need to get her out of here before anybody asks why I’m taking care of some random girl I’m not supposed to know.

People will figure out she is my sister, eventually. But we’re only two weeks into the semester, and I’d like to postpone that moment for as long as possible.

What would I do if someone did the same thing to her that happened to Olivia?

“Is this what you handling the problem looks like?”

I don’t notice that Vaughn has come up behind me until I hear him speak. He wears an expression that is equal parts confused and furious when I look at him.

“You could say that.”

“How the hell did Olivia get in here?”

“Ask the dumbass pledge that was manning the door.” As soon as I figure out who it is, the idiot will be hanging from the ceiling by his toes. “I told you we should have had one of us out there.”

Vaughn’s eyes narrow as he watches Olivia down another shot. “This is getting out of control. You better do something before someone else has to step in.”

I’m used to Vaughn questioning me.

He doesn’t think I realize just how much it pissed him off when I was voted in as president over him. That resentment isn’t enough to affect our friendship, but he has no problem speaking up when he thinks I’ve made the wrong decision.

It’s annoying as hell.

“I have it handled,” I say through clenched teeth.

“The alumni board is expecting an update soon. All they’re going to want to hear is that Olivia Pratt has left St. Bart’s for good. My father will be disappointed if we don’t deliver. I know yours will be, too.”

Like I need the reminder that I’m constantly in danger of losing my father’s hard-won approval. Vaughn’s father might be just as much of a hard ass as mine, but he doesn’t have to overcome the knowledge that he is the son that his father only acknowledged because he had no other options.

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