Page 27 of Jig's Last Dance

Partying with a damn shadow is not my idea of a good time.

“Thanks.”

Of course, once we’re on the path, Shawn starts in. “So, spill. Why do you have a hot bodyguard?”

With a small sigh, I mutter, “Ben kicked me out.”

“What? Why?” She grabs my arm, and I shoot her a halfhearted smile.

“It’s hard to explain, but, well, Ben assumed I was with Jig, and he freaked out, and I had nowhere to go. My Uncle Sal called, so now I’m fucked.”

“Shit. Sal?”

Dropping my head, I nod miserably.

“Ali, you know Kieran got into some trouble with him once.”

“Oh, shit. I didn’t know it was Sal.”

Kieran is the devil-may-care troublemaker of Shawn’s brothers, known for getting up to no good. After he amassed a debt from gambling, his brothers had to work it off. I’ve never heard the particulars, but I saw how whatever they did changed them.

They were rough and tumble but happy boys who emerged harder and more cynical. Now, knowing it was Sal they were dealing with creates a pit in my stomach.

“It’s fine now, but holy shit, Ali, you’re living with a crime boss?”

“Yes, and Ben won’t return my calls.”

We approach the rock in the path. This time, I was smart enough to wear jeans, but I can’t help but think of Jig’s hands on my ass from the last time.

With a shiver, we enter the clearing and join our peers. Shawn glides in like it’s no big deal, but I’ve struggled with making friends since everything went to shit. And the friends I did have all melted away when my parents died and I lost myself. Most days, I don’t fucking care, but tonight as I glance around at everyone, I feel alone.

The sensation crawls up my spine and leaves a cavernous ache in my belly. The loss of Ben only makes the feeling more acute. I miss my cranky brother.

“Hey, drink?” Shawn holds out a bottle to me. Eyeing it distastefully, I shake my head. After last time, I have zero desire to drink anything that wasn’t sealed before I grabbed it. I couldn’t exactly ask Marco to stop so we could get something with our fake IDs, though. I guess I’m going to be sober tonight. Ugh.

Shawn glances at the bottle and shrugs before taking a swig, and I grimace. “You’re brave.”

She laughs. “What are the odds?”

“Probably pretty good with these dicks,” I mumble, smiling weakly when Keith approaches with a wide grin.

I have no idea where he got off to after I started puking the last time, but I’m pretty sure leaving me in the woods was a dick move.

“Hey, Alice, your tits are looking good as usual.”

“Seriously?” I fight not to roll my eyes.

He wraps his arm around my shoulder. “C’mon, can’t I tell my girl she has a nice rack?”

“Your girl? Yeah, no,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest. He smirks, raising a brow. “No? I thought you hanging all over me last week meant something.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” I say, grabbing the bottle out of Shawn’s hand. I can’t stand this asshat sober. Fuck, I’m not sure I can get drunk enough for him either.

“Let’s play a game,” Cindy Stamford says, tossing her glossy blond hair over her shoulder.

“A game?” Shawn sneers. Shawn and Cindy got into it last year and have been at odds ever since. By default, she’s on my shit list too, but it’s easy to do because she’s hated me since spaghetti gate our freshman year.

I don’t know where it came from, but she has this way of inserting herself into any conversation and trying to steal the attention. This is impossible with Shawn around, which is why I think they’re always at each other’s throats. Shawn’s just one of those girls who draw people in.

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