Truth
Or destroys it and everything in its wake.
“I should go,” I tell Gabrielle, who has put her fangs away for the night.
“Understood. Thank you for making this look real.”
Oh, I see, I think.
“That came out cold. As I said, I’m working on the bitch thing. But that wasn’t me being a bitch. That was me sincerely thanking you.”
“While you’re working on the inner bitch thing, you should work on your whole RBI thing, too,” I suggest.
She smiles, and again, I think it’s genuine, but who the hell knows? The only time I’ve seen her shield down, so to speak, was around Justice.
“Before I go, let me ask you something.”
“Okay.”
“Do you have a thing for my brother?”
Her face immediately turns red. “No.”
Bullshit, I think, but instead I say, “I see.” Then I turn to walk away when she grabs my elbow. I turn around.
“There’s something about him that’s … unnerving.”
I can’t help but smile. At the same time, I have a feeling she’s got teeth … down there. “Don’t fuck with him.”
If possible, her face gets even more red. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
A hot breath hits the back of my neck as a very recognizable voice says, “Hope you brought your wallet.”
I look at Gabrielle to see her reaction, expecting a little hint of … something. She just rolls her eyes slightly and says, “The thing you just asked me not to do?”
I nod.
She raises her perfectly arched brows, and a look of malice crosses her face. “Now asking the same in return.”
She walks away, and Harrison takes her spot at my side.
“She’s something, isn’t she?”
“She’s not as bad as I had initially thought.” I look at him and smile. His look is GQ, but his aura screams Junior Healy from Problem Child.
He purses his lips. “Get to know her a little better. Her crazy shines brighter each day.”
I turn and cross my arms over my chest. “Let me ask you something.”
“The answer’s yes. The question is: how do we sneak away for a quick thirty minutes without your little crew”—he nods toward them—“catching us in the act?”
“You’re something else, you know that?”
“And you’re hard to figure out. So, what is it, Miss Steel? Flowers bought me no favor, my attempt to woo you at the game was a—”
“Disaster?”
He smirks and shrugs. “I suppose I forgive your father’s less than civilized—”
I palm his face and laugh as I push him back slightly. “Trust me; that was civilized.”
His eyes nearly bug out of his head. He looks shook.
“What?”
“Did you just”—his voice squeaks, and he clears his throat—“palm my face?”
“Oh my God, that offends you?”
“I’m really not sure,” he says in complete seriousness.
“Okay, cool. Well, you think on that while I go grab a drink.” I turn and walk toward my crew, laughing to myself.
“What the hell did you say to him?” Brisa laughs.
I shrug. “Not much. I need a drink.”
“You’re driving,” Patrick reminds me.
“Right. Then find me a club soda.”
Tris giggles. “You hate club soda.”
“I’ll just carry it around with my pinky stuck out.”
We grab drinks, from an actual bar, with an actual bartender, and then stand in the middle of a room full of people—teenagers. Some, I suspect aren’t teenagers, chatting amongst themselves.
Tris is looking around, transfixed by her surroundings.
“Whatcha thinking?” I ask as she sips her club soda.
She shakes her head. “That this is the lamest party at the prettiest house I’ve ever been to.”
“Prettiest house?” Max puffs. “It’s like a museum.”
“A museum filled with undersexed teens,” Amias adds.
“Don’t you mean oversexed?” Patrick asks with a brief laugh.
Amias shakes his head then tosses back his drink, also club soda, but you’d never guess it. “Not yet, man, not yet.” He nods to a group of girls dressed like runway models, minus the tits. “What time are we blowing this place?”
“Check back here in thirty,” Patrick tells him.
“Perfect,” Max says. Then he and Amias walk away.
When Patrick looks down at his phone again, Brisa and I look at each other and share a knowing glance.
“Someone sending nudes?” she asks him.
“Always someone sending nudes.” He winks.
“But are they from the one keeping your eyes glued to that screen when at least twenty girls in this room would like to drag you into the nearest closet?” I joke.
He looks around then gives me a dirty look.
“What?” I laugh.
“Don’t undershoot me. There’s way more than twenty girls in this room.”
“You’re deflecting,” Tris tells him.
He throws his arm around Tris. “I’m enjoying the company of the coolest females in the room.”
“While deflecting.” She grins.
“Nah, Tris, you’re right; this is kind of lame. I’d rather be somewhere playing music or tossing cards with you all.”
“You want cards?” Miles asks, walking up to us with Kai at his side. “There’s a fifty dollar buy-in.”
“Why is it always about the money to the people who have the most of it?” Tris asks, quite seriously in fact.
Kai scowls at her.
“Fix your face before I do,” Patrick sneers at him.
“Thanks, Tricks, but I could do some damage to it myself if necessary.” Tris shrugs. “Real nails don’t pop off like the fake shit does, pal, and they’re free.”
“Good luck finding someone who wants to breed with that one.” Miles laughs haughtily … until Patrick grabs his collar.
“Oh, hell no.” Tris forces a laugh and pushes between them, not seeing Patrick get jacked back by two of the guys hired to keep the peace.
From out of nowhere, Tobias steps in. “He’s fine.”
“You serious, Easton?” one of them sneers.
Tobias doesn’t say a word, just glares at him.
“You make sure you let Gabrielle know this was your call,” the other says.
“This is Patrick Steel, Justice’s cousin,” Gabrielle says from behind me. “You want to work tomorrow, don’t you?”
“Whatever you say,” he huffs then walks away.
“Listen, you right swaying, small-dicked pussy boy,” Tris spits at Miles.
“Right your girl,” Tobias whispers from behind me.
I look over my shoulder at him then point at Miles’s crotch. “I’m pretty sure she’s right.”
A smile tugs on his lips, and in the blink of his eye, it’s gone. “Then maybe, instead of perfecting trash talk, you should figure out where to hit a man where it actually hurts. Newsflash: it’s not dick jokes.”