Page 28 of The Weekend Getaway

Shimming and snapping her fingers, Grace said, “It’s where you, like, see sound or taste sight or hear smells.”

“That’s not how I feel …” Sarah said, her words slightly slurred.

“You feel sick?”

“Not really,” Sarah said. “I just think … I need to lie down … “

“Are you sure?” Grace asked. “Maybe you just need some water or something.”

Sarah shook her head. “No, I’m feeling really dizzy…”

Grace exhaled, looking away as she rolled her eyes. The bitch was dizzy because she’d been slamming shots all night. Anybody’s head would be swimming after downing that much tequila. Leave it to Sarah to be a diva and decide she wasn’t feeling well.

“Can you help me find a place where I can sit down?”

“Yeah, I guess …” Grace said. Did she look like an fucking nursemaid? She hadn’t come to the party to babysit Sarah. She wanted to dance and get drunk. Maybe do a few lines of coke, a drug she enjoyed but could rarely afford, so if some rich bitch was offering, she planned to take advantage. And despite her feelings for Chris, she wanted to hook up with another guy.

Grace had lost her V-card with Chris, and so far, he’d been the only guy she’d been with, and each time, she had a feeling something was missing. Sex with Chris was lacking something. She never felt completely fulfilled. She hoped to get it on with a football player who had huge junk and knew how to use it.

Surveying the crowd, Grace frowned. More people had shown up since they’d arrived. Where the hell could Sarah lie down? Well, they were in a mansion. A chalet, to be precise. The place had three floors. Had to be some bedrooms upstairs where Sarah could lie down. Get some rest. Recover, then come back down to the party. Who would know?

Grabbing Sarah’s hand, Grace said, “Come with me.” As they pushed through the crowd, Grace used her plus-sized frame to jostle people out of her way. She wasn’t a salmon fighting to go upstream. She was Moses parting the Red Sea. They reached the stairway across the room then headed up the steps. On the landing, Grace pulled Sarah down the wide hall in front of them. Grace looked around, agog and astonished. Did people really live like this? In houses with priceless antiques and fucking Caravaggio paintings on the wall?

After hurrying past several closed doors, Grace came to one that was slightly ajar. She pushed the door open and dragged Sarah inside.

CHAPTER 24

Fifteen Years Ago

1:31 a.m.

Mia

“What’s wrong with Sarah?” Jason asked, looking worried.

“What do you mean?” Alex asked, taking another sip of whatever was in his glass. Vodka, Mia figured. Or, maybe tequila. She wasn’t sure. And didn’t really care. But the glass bothered her. Normally, at parties, people walked around with red cups. But that wasn’t good enough for Phil. People were drinking from actual glass tumblers. Cut crystal, Mia had heard somebody say. As a result, broken glass was everywhere. Several people had cut themselves. Phil Richart didn’t care. He could afford to buy new glass tumblers, so …

“I saw Grace taking Sarah upstairs,” Jason said, leaning closer to Alex.

The three of them were huddled in a corner. Backed into acorner was more like it, Mia thought. The chalet was swarming with people. There was hardly room to move. If she wasn’t somewhat drunk, Mia might have panicked. Might have started feeling claustrophobic. Like she couldn’t breathe.

“Why?” Alex asked in between mouthing the words to the song that was playing.

“I don’t know,” Jason said. “Sarah seemed like she was stumbling. Having trouble walking, or something.”

“Maybe she’s not feeling well,” Mia suggested, a wave of relief washing over her. She’d been wondering when Sarah would pass out.

Mia hadn’t thought it would take nearly an hour for the GHB to take effect, but she knew shit about dosing, so maybe she hadn’t put enough in the shot glass for a quick reaction. She’d put one or two drops into the shot of tequila, figuring it would be enough, but mainly because she didn’t want to overdose the bitch. She wanted Sarah to go to sleep. She didn’t want to kill the girl. She just wanted her out of contention. Out of Alex’s reach. And yes, she was well aware that Alex could find other girls to hook up with besides Sarah, and she was sure he already had. Several times tonight, he’d disappeared for long stretches of time, only to reappear, attentive and thoughtful, too affectionate and expressive. Guilty as hell. Mia didn’t care about girls she didn’t know.

But Sarah was different.

Sarah was someone in their immediate, intimate friend group. Someone Mia had to see most weekends when they all went out to bars and clubs. Mia couldn’t stand the thought ofSarah and Alex together. Couldn’t stand how Sarah pretended to be her friend when she was hooking up with her boyfriend.

Suddenly, viciously, Mia allowed herself to imagine what would happen if she had put too much GHB in Sarah’s tequila. Mia had heard stories about guys using it to rape girls. And stories about guys who woke up with no memory, missing cash, and expensive personal items. But she’d never heard of anyone dying because of too much of the drug.

Could Sarah overdose?

Could she actually die?

---