Page 98 of The Season
I stumble back, my stomach dropping so fast, I have to grip the doorframe to steady myself.
One minute. That’s not that long.She’ll be fine. Lily’s fine.
My feet are moving. I push through a crowd of guys from the mountain, beer bottles clattering, knocking against each other. The guys give me quizzical looks, but I ignore them.
When my sister was at university, in her first year of med school, she used to come home and ask me these ridiculous questions like “What does it take to undo years of incorrect assumptions?” Of course, the questions were aimed at showcasing her superior knowledge to her still-in-high-school brother, but I remember wondering about the answers, sometimes for days.
Now I know the answer tothatparticular question, at least, and it sits like lead at the pit of my stomach. I squeeze my eyes shut.
All it takes is one moment. One moment where you know with absolute certainty that you’ve fucked up.
One minute. Tessa said Lily just left a minute ago.She’ll be fine.
I draw in a deep breath, steely determination rising up alongside my growing panic. I don’t know where the bathrooms are in this ridiculous mansion but I’m going to find them.
And if Tom has laid a finger on my girl, I am going to fucking destroy him.
“Hey. Watch it buddy,” a familiar voice says, though it’s missing its usual buttery warmth.
I scowl up at Seth who is, for some reason, blocking my way to the hallway with his massive form.
“Move,” I hiss.
“I wanted to talk to you,” he says, completely ignoring my request. “About what’s been going on with you and Lily, and why you’re being such a jerk to her.”
I grit my teeth and try not to punch one of the nicest guys I know. I don’t have time for this shit. Don’t have time to tell him that I’ve been keeping Lily at a distance because she has gotten under my skin like no other woman has.
“Get out of my way,” I repeat through gritted teeth, putting as much force into my voice as possible. “I’ve got to get to Lily.”
Seth folds his arms across his chest. “Why? So you can make her cry again?”
Cry?When did I make her cry? I can’t imagine Lily crying. I can only picture her smiling and laughing that low, bubbling laugh. A laugh that makes something ache uncomfortably behind my ribs each time I hear it.
“I think Tom spiked her drink.” The words come out in a dry rasp, rushing between us with the force of an avalanche.
The two drinks I’ve had churn in my stomach, beer mixing uncomfortably with spirits.
I should’ve said something the moment I saw him do it, even if I wasn’t sure. I should’ve said something to Lily. Should have chucked out that fucking drink before Tom could give it to her…
“What?” Seth’s voice is all hard steel and barely controlled rage, a rumbling of danger that skitters down my spine.
“I think he followed her to the bathroom.” I point to the hallway behind him and my hand trembles, so I drop it to my side, clenching my hands into fists.
Seth gives me a look that can only be described as blind rage, something more like a snarl than words leaving his bared teeth. And then he’s spinning, moving down the hallway so fast, I can barely keep up with him.
I run behind him, panting, watching him fling each door he passes open, not bothering to knock. Couples—and one throuple—shout in protest at his intrusion, scrambling to shut the doors, but he ignores them, completely unconcerned by the chaos he’s creating.
He opens the last door at the end of the hallway, bright lights flooding the darkness so abruptly, it has me stumbling back, squinting.
“Lily.” Seth chokes, that one word ripping out of him in a painful exhale. I peer around his broad shoulders, and nearly sink to my knees with the rush of relief and an almost dizzying wave of nausea.
Lily is sprawled on the ostentatious marble tiles, her cheek pressed against a bath mat, eyes open but unseeing. Her pants are pulled down to her knees, pink cotton panties only half covering her, as if someone tried taking them off but stopped. Tom stands behind her, his back to us, his red-splotched face visible in the mirror and pinched with frustration. His hands fumble at his belt, then drop to his sides as he jolts with shock at the sight of us.
He spins around, belt unbuckled and hands held out. “It’s not what it looks like,” his eyes dart from me to Seth, dark and hazy, the color draining from his face. “She asked me to come with her and then passed out, like a complete lightweight. Not my fault the girl can’t hold her liquor, you know…”
Tom’s words are cut off with a meaty thud as Seth’s fist connects with his face.
“What the…”
