Page 76 of Forsaken Oath

The morning sunslants through the windshield as I pull into my driveway, the clock on the dash reading 7:02 a.m. My body aches pleasantly, a reminder of the hours Beau and I spent tangled together in the pool, mapping each other’s bodies with reverent hands and eager mouths. I’m still wearing yesterday’s tee and jean shorts, sans one very important piece of fabric that’s currently MIA. My hair, stiff from chlorine and air drying, is piled haphazardly on top of my head in a messy bun.

A giddy lightness bubbles in my chest as memories of last night flash through my mind. Beau's reverent touches, his heated gaze, the way he worshiped my body like I was something precious. I've never felt so cherished, so utterly adored.

I grab my purse from the passenger seat and climb out of the car. My limbs feel heavy with exhaustion, but my soul feels light. The understanding that a night away from home wasn’t the end of the world. That maybe, just maybe, I can have something just for me.

That I can have Beau.

I’m halfway to my front door when I see him. Hunched over, elbows on his knees, Nate perches on his top porch step with a beer bottle clasped between his thumb and index finger.

I shield the sun from my face and call out, “Starting early today, hm?”

“Never stopped.” He tips it back and drains the bottle in one breath.

My heart stutters in my chest when I see the sea of empty beer bottles scattered around him.

“You have a party last night?” It’s not unheard of, but he doesn’t usually party so hard at his house. That’s what they do at other Seven Pines’ places. Or so he tells me.

He sets the bottle down on the concrete step and exhales as he stands up.

Unease wiggles inside my gut as I look at him.

Nate sways slightly on his feet, his eyes bloodshot and glassy as they meet mine across the small stretch of yard between our houses. His jaw ticks, a muscle jumping in his cheek as he stares me down with an intensity I’ve never seen from him before.

“Where were you last night, baby?” His voice is gravel rough, a dangerous edge to it I don’t recognize.

“Don’t, Nate,” I warn, my voice low.

His jaw clenches as his gaze roams over me. “I’ve been calling you, texting you all night.”

Guilt prickles across my skin. My phone feels like a lead weight inside my purse.

“I’m sorry,” I offer softly, taking a step toward him. “I didn’t have it on me last night.”

He shakes his head, running his hand over his hair. “C’mon, Thorne. Don’t—don’t lie to me, okay?”

He stares at me, and in that second, I feel it. The weight of our friendship, strained and pulled taut over the years. Panic flutters in my chest, but I force myself to remain calm.

I nod once, a slow dip of my chin. “Okay, Nate.”

He tears his gaze from mine, shoving his hands in his pockets and looking over my shoulder. “Top twenty-five make it through, right?”

His topic change throws me off for a moment, but he’s not really waiting for me to confirm.

“So fifty-fifty of making it through to the next round. Not bad odds.” He drags his gaze to mine once more. “Do you know what those people do to increase their chances, Thorne?Anything.They do anything they want.”

Understanding dawns on me, and my shoulders sag under a boulder of guilt. “I’m fine, Nate. See?”

He nods, but it’s not a sign of understanding. His eyes lose focus and he looks out into the street. “Seven people didn’t even finish the race, did you know that?”

“No.”

“Those seven people were met with amateur-level sabotage. The shit they did last night? It’s fucking nothing.”

My scalp prickles, and frustration foams inside of me, his words fueling it. “Then why did you even sign me up for the Gauntlet?”

His lips purse. “Where were you last night?”

My stomach twists at the accusation in his tone. I square my shoulders, meeting his glare head on. “I was out. With a friend. I didn’t realize I needed to clear my schedule with you first.”

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