Page 534 of Hell Hath No Fury
Think of all the trouble you’ll get into … don’t hit her.
I turn around, fold my arms, and then walk inside the house to clear my head. The talk about my father is driving me crazy, but then all this shit about Cole. Why does it always come back to men cheating? Firstly, my father wouldnevercheat on my mom. If anything, he’s obsessed with her like some possessive husband from a damn romance novel that Ava is always trying to make me and my sisters read.
As for Cole, I trust him, sort of. I mean, he’s not ever done anything to make me think otherwise. Okay, maybe there was that one time he was super secretive about his phone, and we got into a big fight.
Fuck—I hate her.
I need something to clear my head, ease the tension, and make me forget about all the bullshit she’s trying to fill my head with. Moving toward the kitchen, I search for something stronger than the soda served at the bar. There’s a large pantry, so I wait for a server to leave the kitchen area and sneak in.
There are shelves filled with packaged food and many health brands since Livvy is into organic shit. In the corner, I find a bottle of vodka sitting on its lonesome. That will do the trick. Unscrewing the bottle, I don’t think twice and take a long-winded drink, almost choking on the burn. Suddenly, I break out into nasty coughs, barely able to catch my breath.
I give it a moment, then remember everything Amber just said. With a purge of anger, I take another swig. This time, it’s less strong as it passes my throat. My stomach, however, feels like it’s on fire.
Inside my purse, my phone vibrates. I pull it out to see a text from Cole.
Cole:Where the fuck are you?
His tone does nothing to calm my anger. This is all his fault. Maybe if he pushes girls away instead of letting them touch his arm, people will stop spreading rumors about him cheating on me.
There’s a tingle spreading across my skin, causing small goosebumps to form. Before heading back outside, I bring the bottle to my lips and drink as much as I can in one sitting. When my insides begin to hurt, I push it away and let out a loud rasp. Only a quarter of the bottle is empty. I didn’t even make it halfway.
Slowly, I screw the bottle cap back on and place the bottle back on the shelf where I found it. With slow steps, I make myway outside but toward the bathroom to freshen up. Each step becomes slightly unbalanced, but I got this.
By the time I finish checking my makeup, everything feels entirely different. The music is louder, people seem friendlier, and I don’t care about anything anymore.
Until I see Cole, still with Chanel.
“Cole,” I call his name sternly. “We need to talk.”
“I’m busy,” he answers, less enthused, still standing beside Chanel. She’s taken her hands off him but still hovering like a bad smell.
“Oh really, you’re busy? Fucking someone else?”
Cole's eyes widen. At the same time, his friends walk away in shock. Chanel even appears surprised by my outburst, choosing to walk away as well.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” he barks, running his hands through his blond hair. “You walk away. Then I text you, but you don’t respond. Then you show up and accuse me of fucking someone else?”
I cross my arms beneath my chest, glaring at him. “And? Are you?”
I’m expecting him to argue back, prepared for a fight. Instead, he lowers his head quietly, raising it shortly after with a pained stare.
“Alexa, I would never do that to you,” he says faintly.
My shoulders fall, the guilt washing over me. Why the hell do I let other people get to me? Amber, my father, everyone always gets to me.
I reach out to caress his arm. “God, I’m sorry.”
Cole wraps his hand around my waist, bringing me in for a deep kiss. His lips are soft, and there’s no urgency like earlier in the night.
As I pull back with a smile, he laughs.
“You taste like vodka.”
“Hmmm … maybe a little.”
“Your father will kill you if you go home drunk.”
“So, I guess I should do something to work it off, maybe sweat a little,” I tease.
