Page 17 of Runaways

Silas laughs and shakes his head. "This should be fun."

After Tate changes his clothes, I follow them down the staircase and climb into the backseat of Silas's car.

"Drink up," Tate says from the passenger seat as Silas puts the car in reverse. He extends his arm to me, his fist wrapped around the neck of a whiskey bottle. I slide to the middle of the bench seat and take it from him.

"Do you have anything to chase it with?"

"No. And I'm going to assume that you didn't know we were playing already, so I won't count it this time, but this is your only warning. Technically, that is both hesitating and questioning me, and the game is called 'Obey.'"

"You're a straight-A student, Noah," Silas says. "You should be a little better at following directions."

"Sorry." I bring the bottle to my lips and take a small sip, wincing as I force the liquid down.

"That was disappointing. Get up here and sit on my lap; bring the bottle," Tate says.

I don't hesitate, but I move slowly, climbing onto the center console before he pulls me into his lap. He takes the bottle from my hand and holds it to my lips. "Open up," he says.

I do as he asks, and he pours the whiskey until it fills the entirety of my mouth. I sputter, pulling away, and he slaps his hand over my lips. "No," he says. "Don't spit it out. Swallow."

Eyes watering, I obey, but it takes three tries to get it all down.

"That's better," he says, taking his hand away. "Now, you do the same thing to Silas."

"He—" I start before Tate raises a pierced eyebrow at me.He's driving,I almost say. But that's breaking the rules, so I don't. And we're only a few blocks away.

"Open up, Silas," I say, leaning over and holding the bottle to his lips. Unlike me with Tate, he doesn't let me fill his entire mouth and then choke and sputter before forcing it down. He takes three big gulps before I pull it away and then meets my eyes as he licks his lips. I'm not used to drinking liquor like this, and it must be affecting me already, because I have to fight the urge to lean down and taste them.

I snap out of it, holding my breath when I feel Tate's hand run casually up the back of my thigh until it's far past the hemline of my skirt, resting against the bare skin just below my ass cheek. I've gotten used to it—him touching me like this because he can when Mia isn't around. At first, it set off this alarm in my head, and my instinct was always to pull back or put space between us in some way. Now, it feels good…in a bad way—like we're just barely not crossing lines we should never cross together, and it makes me feel alive. I pretend to ignore it, but I'm sure he notices I'm letting him get away with it more often, too.

"See? That's how it's done, Noah," Tate says. "Tell Silas what a good boy he is."

"You're a really good boy, Silas," I tell him.

Silas laughs and shakes his head a little. "Thank you, Noah," he says as he parks the car across the street from Calvin's house.

I open the car door and step out onto the sidewalk before Tate pulls it shut behind me. "Have fun," he says through the open window.

"Wait—you're not coming in with me?"

"Fuck no," he says. "If I show my face in there, I'll get my ass beat by half of the football team." The driver's side door opens, and Silas steps out, closing it behind him. "Silas is going with you; they're his friends."

"They're not my fucking friends," he says.

"Whatever," Tate says, visibly annoyed. "Just make sure you're checking your phones. And take another shot." He passes the whiskey bottle through the window. "Make it a good one."

Already feeling the effects of the whiskey and a little more prepared than I was the first couple of times, I fill my mouth and swallow the liquid in one large gulp. I'm not sure if it was a good one, but he looks satisfied when I hand the bottle back.

"Oh, and Noah?"

"Yes?"

"In my absence, you need to obey Silas."

"No problem," I tell him, and turn toward the house.

"Are you going to tell me what's going on?" I ask Silas as we approach the front porch.

"Calvin took something of Tate's," he says. "Tate wants it back—thinks maybe if he can get into his house tonight while it's full of people, he can find it."

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