“Thinking,” Aidan corrected. “Let’s go.”
The drive was choked with rundown Hondas and the music was a dull bass thump traveling through the walls and thudding across the ground. Silhouettes shifted past the naked windows. It was a big crowd, probably a hundred kids, and the stink of barf, pot and cigarette smoke was enough to singe a person’s nose hairs – and that wasoutside.
The dealer would have situated himself near an exit, they’d decided, for ease of escape when the cops inevitably showed up.
Tonight, thanks to Vince Fielding’s current status as the Lean Dogs’ personal PD bitch, Aidan could have the five-oh in place the second he needed them.
Perks of witnessing murder, and all that.
Bandana loose around his neck, he signaled for Mercy and Tango to meet him around back, and Aidan walked up the porch steps and into the open door as they’d planned. He wanted to get his hands on Greg, but the first order of business was getting Erin Walton out safely. The damn brat.
No one noticed him as he headed down the central hall, peeking into the rooms he passed, greeted by the sight of desperate, clumsy teen couples in various states of undress, pawing at one another. The decaying, moldy stink of the house was magnified by the closeness of sweating bodies. His stomach lurched and he fought the urge to cover his mouth and nose with his sleeve.
The ballroom was set up the way it had always been: keg in one corner, iced-down tubs of wine coolers and vodka, soda for mixing, stacks of red Solo cups. The stereo system had been set up along the upper gallery, and gangster rap poured down over the railing, punching off the walls and vibrating in the pit of his stomach in an unpleasant way.
He scanned the huge room four times before he finally spotted Erin. She was wearing a skirt about as wide as his belt, and thigh high boots her sister probably didn’t know she owned. Her makeup, as she turned in his direction, was Halloween-worthy in its thickness and sheer glittery tackiness. She looked garish and thirty, and nothing like her clean-lined, rosy-cheeked sister. The comparison was shocking, and a little repulsive, if he was honest.
Her gaze passed over him, uncomprehending at first, as she stood glued to some scrawny, douchey guy in skinny jeans – Jesse – both her arms around his waist. But then her eyes snapped back, pinning on him, and her painted mouth opened in obvious shock.
So she remembered him. Good, that would make this a little less awkward.
A knot of boys laughing into their beer cups wandered into his path, and Aidan shoved them aside, earning “hey”s, and “watch out”s and “fuck you”s. It gave Erin a chance to get away from him. Try to, anyway.
He caught her by the back of her jacket as she whirled away from her boyfriend.
“Nuh-uh, little girl,” he said, dragging her back to face him, having to shout to be heard above the music. “You can’t run away from me in those hooker boots.”
She glared at him, but it was pitiful, her eyes already glazing over with tears. It was one thing to spew defiance and venom at a female relative, another to stare up at him.
“What are you doing here?” she asked. “Are you stalking me or something? Just leave me alone!” There wasn’t much rebellion in her voice, though. She knew it was a lame attempt at turning this back around on him.
“I’m here for your sister, and I’m taking you back to her. We can do it the easy way, and you walk outta here on your own, or I can put you over my shoulder. Take your pick.”
A hand landed on his forearm before she could respond, Jesse, face screwed up with teenage anger.
“Dude, don’t touch my girlfriend!”
“Dude, don’t make your girlfriend walk into town.” Aidan shook him off. “Leave off, asshole, I don’t have time for this shit.”
Clearly, Jesse didn’t remember him, most likely thanks to whatever had dilated his eyes. “I said don’t touch her!” the kid roared, and his arm cocked back as if in slow-mo as he prepared for what was sure to be a sloppy punch.
Aidan dodged – laughable, really – and pulled Erin toward him. “Listen,” he said against her ear, “something bad’s going down here tonight, and I promised Sam I’d get you home safe. We need to go. Tell your stupidass boyfriend to lay off, or he’s gonna get hurt.”
She turned wide eyes to him, struggling for a response.
“Erin, come on.”
Jesse had his balance back and was going to make another pass. “You fucking dick,” he said through his teeth as he advanced, skinny arms held away from his body.
Aidan sighed. “Jesus, Idon’t have timefor this shi–”
He let go of Erin and sidestepped Jesse, catching him with a sharp elbow to the ribs as he hurtled past. The kid exhaled in a surprised grunt, and tripped. Went staggering a few steps, knocking into people, and finally landed in a face-down sprawl.
“Jesse!” Erin said.
Aidan grabbed her arm. “He treated you like shit anyway. Come on, get moving.” He knew they had only a few seconds before Jesse was on his feet again and wasting yet more of his time.
He elbowed through the gawkers, grateful Erin actually followed and didn’t have to be dragged. She had at least some sense, then.
