By the time we arrive at the woods where the party is taking place, an unnerving stillness has overtaken the cab. My knees burn as I climb out. I attempt to act calm, even though my palms feel like they have rocks stuck in the flesh.
The space is packed with men and a few women, and most of them are drinking as they chat around the blazing bonfire. The trees around me create the perfect place to hide, and if I’ve learned anything from attending these parties, it's that it’s likely someone is hiding out there, watching and waiting for the right girl to stumble by, all drugged up and out of it.
I release a breath before grabbing a drink from the table. I pretend to drink it, but tonight I’m not drinking my pain away. The last time I did that I was drugged. The holes in my memories cause my stomach to lurch whenever I think about them too hard.
It’d be so much easier to be drunk and high all the time, but I need answers because I get this feeling Jason is growing tired of me. If he dumps me, I’m unsure where that’ll leave me with this group of men I’ve spent months around, learning how they work, learning their dark secrets, learning all sorts of things that they’d probably want me dead over if they found out what I know.
After pretending to take a sip of my drink, I search for Jason in the sea of faces around me. He’s chatting with an older man in what appears to be an intense conversation. I make my way over to him, moving slowly to avoid attention being drawn to me.
“I know that, but it doesn’t make me feel any better.” Jason shakes his head and crosses his arms. “I need to get out of this place before I get blamed for everything.”
“You won’t get blamed,” the man with dark hair and eyes attempts to reassure him. “You’re not our fall guy, Jason.”
“Are you sure about that?” Jason challenges. “Because he set it up, so it looked like I killed her.”
“Killed who?” the man asks, but his tone implies he already knows.
“Zoey,” Jason hisses.
My heart stops in my chest, and I nearly drop my drink.
“If the wrong person starts looking into her death, they’ll realize it wasn’t an accident and it’ll get pinned on me, even though I didn’t fucking do it,” Jason says in a low tone. “This whole thing is set up that way—all of us are the fall guys. And if you don’t believe that, you’re stupid.” Jason spins around then, startling when he realizes I’m standing an inch away from him. “What the hell are you doing? Go do your damn job.” He shoves me as he passes by me, then storms off.
My drink spills on my shoes. I grimace. “God, he’s in such a bad mood tonight.”
“Don’t hold it against him,” the man Jason was speaking to tells me. “He’s under a lot of pressure.”
“I know.” I wipe a few droplets of booze from off my arm, then turn to hurry after Jason.
“What’s your name?” the man calls out, stopping me.
I twist back toward him. “Clover.”
In the orange glow of the flames, I can make out the way his gaze drinks me in. “You’re with Jason, right? And you’ve been with him for a while?” he asks, and I nod. “I’d like you to meet someone.” He nods for me to follow him as he starts toward a group of men who are standing near where the trees thicken and are isolated from everyone else.
I’ve seen them before and know they’re in charge of this group.
I don’t want to go. I know I shouldn’t. But if I deny him, I’ll come off as suspicious. And that’s not what I want right now, not when I just found out that Jason didn’t kill Zoey, which puts me one step closer to getting to the truth.
Sucking in a deep breath, I approach the men. My aching knees and palms are on fire as I come to a stop beside them. They’re taller than me, but that doesn’t mean much since I’m average height. Some of them are thinner while others are bulkier. None of this matters, though. I’m the only girl here, and that’s the main thing that causes fear to pulsate through me like venom, almost as if I’ve been bitten by a snake, which may very well be what’s about to happen.”
“Hey.” I plaster on my best clueless smile.
“Hey,” one of the guys replies with a condescending smile.
Good. He sees me as harmless, and that’s how I want people to see me.
“What’s your name, pretty girl?” he asks, shifting his weight.
“Clover.” I smile at him.
Yes, I keep thinking I’m a dumb, dumb girl.
He chuckles. “A pretty name for a pretty girl.”
Gag me. But I manage a soft giggle.
“This is Jason’s girl,” the guy who brought me over here introduces me. “She’s been with him for a handful of months now.”
