“That was awesome,” Sawyer says from her spot on the bathroom floor.
Despite the throbbing in my hand and the blood trickling from my lip due to the one and only punch Britney landed, I have to agree.
For almost fifteen minutes, Sawyer stood up for herself, and I got to pummel the shit out of my childhood terrorizer.
Things got so crazy, a circle of partygoers formed around us, and someone changed the music to the Rocky theme song.
Cole and Oakley tried their best to break it up, but whenever they’d pull me or Sawyer off, we’d start tag-teaming to ensure Britney and her friend wouldn’t have the upper hand.
It got so bad they had to call Jace for backup because half the people around didn’t want to get involved and the other half didn’t want to stop the entertainment.
The look on Jace’s face when he pried me off his little girlfriend then peeled her off the floor was priceless.
I pet the lock of red hair on the bathroom sink. “We even managed to get a souvenir.”
Laughing, she heaves herself off the floor. “We’re gonna be so sore tomorrow.”
I wince as I check out my knuckles. Nothing is broken, but they are swollen and bruised. “Tell me about it. Technically this is my second fight in a week.”
She holds out her hand and helps me up. “You should start training professionally.”
“Only if I can use Britney as my punching bag.”
I turn on the faucet and wash my face since it’s still sticky from the soda Jace poured on me.
“Shit,” Sawyer says as she looks at her watch. “It’s one-fifteen. I’m gonna be late for curfew.”
Crap. We’ve been holed up in the bathroom gathering our bearings and time must have slipped away from us.
She takes out her phone. “I’m gonna text my dad and tell him I’ll be home as soon as I drop you off.”
“No, I can hitch a ride with Oakley. If you leave now, you’ll make it home on time.”
She eyes me warily. “Are you sure? I don’t want to leave you stranded here. Plus, Oakley’s been drinking.”
“He has, but I haven’t. I’m sure he’ll have no problem with me driving.”
After giving her a quick hug goodbye, I walk her to her van and search for my step-cousin.
I figured he’d still be in the living room, but there’s no sign of him. In fact, half the people who were here are gone now, and I’m seriously hoping he isn’t one of them.
I walk over to two guys sitting on a couch. Their red eyes and the way they’re slouched over—not to mention the big ass bong they’re sharing—tells me they’re Oakley’s people and they might be able to tell me where he’d be.
“Hey.”
The guy wearing a beanie lifts his head. “Oh, shit. It’s you.” He slaps his friend’s shoulder. “It’s the cousin fucker who beat up that Britney chick before.”
If I never hear the term cousin fucker again in my life, it will be too soon.
His friend blows out a big puff of smoke and coughs. “You’re a legend, B. Mad respect.” He points to his bong. “You wanna hit this?”
“I appreciate the offer, but I’m actually looking for Oakley. Have you guys seen him?”
They exchange a glance.
“Nah,” one of them says. “Not since the fight.”
“But Cole’s outside in the hot tub,” his friend adds. “O-dawg might be with him.”
“Okay, thanks.”
I start to walk away, but they halt me.
“Yo, B. Maybe next time you fight, you can pop a titty out or something.” He swishes an imaginary basketball. “Try to go viral and be on some next level shit. Know what I’m saying?”
God help me if I ever take social or career advice from these guys.
“Sure. I’ll see what I can do.”
With a short wave, I leave them to their bong and make my way outside.
Tiny strings of light illuminate the path leading to the large hot tub stationed on the far side of the patio.
And just like they said, it’s where I find Cole.
With the exception of a few people passed out on some patio chairs, he’s all alone.
However, there’s a good chance he’ll know where Oakley went.
His eyes are closed, and the back of his head is resting on the ledge of the jacuzzi when I approach.
He’s so relaxed I have to clear my throat to get his attention.
“Hey, sorry to bother you, but I was hoping you knew where Oakley was. I need a ride home.”
He opens one eye. “Didn’t you come here with Sawyer?”
“Yeah, but I told her to go home because she was late for curfew.”
Stretching his arm out, he plucks a nearby Solo cup off the edge. “Last time I saw him was right after we put the kibosh on your rumble with Britney and Casey.” He takes a leisurely sip of his drink. “Have you tried calling him?”
“Yeah.” I turn on my heel, preparing to go back inside. “Thanks anyway. Enjoy the rest of your night.”
“Not so fast.” He pats the edge of the tub. “Step into my office. We need to have a little chat.”
Whatever’s in that cup of his must be strong. “I don’t have a bathing suit.”
His lips twitch. “Nothing I haven’t seen before.”
“Sorry, I’m not…no.”
He shrugs. “Suit yourself.” Curiosity dances across his face as he maneuvers to the side of the tub closest to me. “But I can’t help wondering…” His voice trails off, inviting me to either fill in the rest of his statement or inquire about it.
“Fine, I’ll bite. Wonder what?”
His expression turns angelic. “M-m-maybe if I t-t-talked like t-t-this.”
It’s like a sucker punch right to the gut. Before I can stop myself, my hand strikes his cheek. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
I cried myself to sleep after I found out Liam had passed, and again after it became clear Jace no longer wanted to talk to me, and I had lost not one, but two people I cared about.
Eventually, I forced myself to tuck my feelings about Liam’s death in the same box with my mom.
However, being taunted with his memory by his identical twin is not only downright ruthless, it sends a rush of pain crashing to the surface.
Tears spring to my eyes and I clutch my chest.
Liam should be here…but he’s not. My friend is never coming back.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper as my brain processes what I’ve done. “I’m so sorry.”
Cole starts to say something, but I’m already running back to the house.
It hurts too much. I can’t breathe. I can’t…
A force slams into me and I stumble, but a steel grip captures my upper arm, righting me before I fall on my ass.
“Watch where you’re going,” Jace bites out.
The fact that he’s shirtless and there are two girls in bikinis trailing behind him are insignificant. My focus is on the tattoo across his chest.
Scrawled in thick black script, the words, My Brother’s Keeper sit perched above a pair of intricate angel wings spanning over each pec.
A lump rises in my throat as a fresh wave of pain washes over me. Liam.
Impulsively, I brush my fingertips over the ink.
Jace sucks in a sharp breath…then whacks my hand away. “Don’t fucking touch me.”
“I—” I shake my head, feeling stupid for doing something so personal. So insensitive. “I’m sorry.”
Curling my arms around myself, I push past Jace and the bikini-clad girls.
I need to find Oakley so I can leave. Being here, dealing with these buried emotions…it’s all too much.
