Page 51 of Sinister Lies

Twenty-Six

Samara

Iwalkeddownthetrail, eager to get as shit faced as humanly possible despite my sworn oath to never drink that much again. I didn’t bother trying to reconcile anything with Sky. I just got in the shower, got dressed, blow-dried my hair, then stomped out the door, neglecting to apply a single drop of makeup on my face.

I couldn’t believe my eyes when I merged in with the crowd. This was, well, if I was being honest… not what I expected to walk into. This wasn’t like any of the other parties I’d attended here. Club music bounced around the atmosphere. The air was thick with heat and sweat from the hordes of bodies pressed together swaying to the rhythmic beat, some damn near on the verge of fucking standing up.

As I continued to push through the mob, there was so much going on I couldn’t train my eyes on one specific thing. Drugs were being passed around. Guys were snorting huge lines of coke off some random girl’s bare tits. Across from them was a group of kids playing beer pong and passing joints around, baggies of blow and what looked like pills, too. And as I heard moaning coming from my right, I stupidly jerked my head in that direction. Another random girl was getting her back blown out against another table.

My fucking God. It was a goddamn whore house out here.

Desperate for a drink and a change of scenery, I finally found an open path towards the row of kegs. There was another table next to them, this time stocked-piled high with different brands of liquor and solo cups. I grabbed a cup and filled it about halfway with tequila, moaning as I chugged down a whole mouthful.

“Careful there,” a familiar voice boomed from behind me.

I bristled, turning around to find Phantom standing there, the corners of his eyes so tight, it resembled more of an angry squint.

“It’s not smart to drink so much at one time. Bad things could happen if you aren’t careful.”

“Is that a threat?” I asked, placing my cup down as I stared bravely into his dark, beautiful eyes. It pissed me off how his stare still shot chills down my spine. Just like that day in the nurse’s office, after he’d saved my life, he gawked down at me like he was staring directly into my soul.

“I don’t know. Is it?”

“You tell me.”

He took a step closer, then reached behind me, grabbing a liquor bottle and a cup for himself. His dark gaze never left my own until he said, “Good luck,” and walked away.

“Hey, Samara, right?”

I waited until Phantom was no longer in my sight before addressing whoever the fuck was talking to me.

My lips parted in surprise when I blinked over and up at the elevator guy, Greyson.

“Greyson. Hey.”

“We meet again,” he said, slurring his words. His pupils were dilated and immensely glossed over. Depending on whichever drug he decided to partake in, he had to be lightyears past sober.

“Yeah,” I said, taking notice of how he slid closer to me. “We meet again.”

He licked his lips, and that was when I drew the line and shut his ass all the way down. I wasn’t stupid. I knew what he was doing. This wasn’t my first time dealing with intoxicated guys trying to put the moves on me.

“I’m not interested, Greyson. I have a boyfriend.”

He tried to move even closer to me, but I shook my head and shoved him away. He called me a bitch just before he furiously stormed off, but hey, at least he finally caught the fucking hint.

I had other matters on my mind. Shit, I couldn’t let go of it no matter how hard I tried to convince myself.

I had to talk to Rhett. Preferably in secret.

Problem was, I had no idea if he’d speak to me again.

Then there were his brothers I had to consider. I doubted Rhett would agree to wander off with me without them.

I grabbed my cup and took another big swallow of tequila, the foamy taste forcing me to dump the last of the booze out of my cup and all over the ground. Last I checked, tequila wasn’t supposed to be foamy. I had no clue what the hell that was about, but I wasnotmaking the mistake of touching that tequila bottle again.

So I chose a new cup and a different tequila bottle instead.

Drinking like this was a horrible decision given tomorrow’s trial, so I promised myself this would be my last cup. It should give me just enough of the buzz I needed to settle my nerves.

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