Fuck it. I don’t clean thisplace.
Taryn smirks. “Obviously, we needmore.”
“Well, let’s see,” I say, counting every point off on my fingers. “One, we’re all underage. Two, I’m high, you’re high, he’s high and drunk, and that one over there probably has more vodka in his veins than blood. Any moresuggestions?”
Ross bumps my shoulder. “Come with me. I have something foryou.”
Sober me would know better, but high me accepts his hand and follows him down the stairs into the living room. Once we’re alone, he pulls me close and lifts my hand. Opening my palm, he presses two twist tied baggies that contain a shit ton of white powder inside eachone.
“What’sthis?”
“Call it your graduation present. I’ll unwrap both of you later.” Giving me a wink that makes my skin crawl, he reaches inside my shirt and tucks the bags between my breasts. “Now, let’s go get that vodka.” Slurring, he holds up a set of keys I immediatelyrecognize.
I’m not thrilled he’s made me a drug mule, but at the moment I’m more concerned with protecting what’s mine—specifically my brand newMercedes.
Knowing it’s pointless, I jump and swat at the keyring he dangles over my head anyway. “Give me my keys, Ross. Stop screwingaround.”
He laughs and shakes them even higher. “Not until you agree to drive to the liquor store. I’ve got a fake ID, but you’re the only one who hasn’t beendrinking.”
“Are you crazy? I’m notdriving.”
“You’re a goddamn West. No one is going to pull over a West. Jesus, will you stop being such a fuckingpussy?”
I glare at him. “Will you stop being such a fucking dick? I’m notdriving.”
Luckily, all the drugs and booze hit him at once, tilting him off balance enough for me to knock the keys out of his hand. We both bend down to make a grab for them, but I reach them first, taking the opportunity to give him my special graduationpresent.
My knee in hisballs.
“Get the fuck out of my house, asshole,” I yell, running toward the frontdoor.
God, I needair.
“Where the hell are you going? he groans, bent over and shielding his nuts thirty seconds toolate.
“Anywhere you’renot!”
“Get vodka while you’rethere.”
“Eat shit!” I flip him off before slamming the door. I’m mad. I’m fed up. I’m crying for no reason and pissed at myself for expecting more from friends Ihate.
Stifling a curse as I stub my toe, I glance down and laugh. I ran out of the house so fast I forgot to put on shoes, but I’m not going back in. I don’t care if I have to run around the neighborhood barefooted and bare-assed; I can’t be here with themanymore.
Happy fuckinggraduation.
Tightening my fists, I feel a sharp bite against my palm and remember I’m still holding my keys. Making a split-second decision, I run down the front steps and around a tall line of bushes when a firm hand grabs my upper arm and swings mearound.
“Carrick?” I blink a few times as his face comes into focus. “What the hell are you doinghere?”
“You’ve been crying.” His dark hair is tousled and draped over his eyes as he scans my face. I can’t decide if it’s comfort or pity I feel as he brushes his knuckle across my cheek, drying mytears.
“Allergies,” I say, lookingaway.
Without asking permission, he moves his hand and swipes the pad of his thumb under my nose. As he holds it up to my face, his bright blue eyes darken. “Shy, is thiscocaine?”
“No.”
“Shiloh…”
