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It has to be rats, I tell myself. With the way these guys keep their house, I wouldn’t doubt that they have an infestation of something nasty.
But I can’t stop the shudder of premonition that moves up my spine.
Chapter Twenty-One
“Some party last night, huh?”
When I get downstairs in the morning, Cole is already in the kitchen. He has a box of cereal in one hand and a half-gallon of orange juice in the other.
“Same as always,” I murmur as I move past him to the cabinet.
“You think? Things seemed a little weird.”
“It’s just because Brady’s here and we’re all on edge about the Initiation.” I pull down a box of bran flakes and gesture to the fridge. “Is there any milk left?”
“Sure.” He hands it over, but his gaze follows me as I move to the table. “Speaking of Brady, have you seen him?”
I keep my face very carefully blank. “No, why?”
“He made an appearance pretty early in the night, but then I didn’t see him at all after that.”
“Planning the Initiation has him busy, I guess. You know how it is. I’m sure he’ll turn up when he wants us to do something.”
Cole takes a swig directly from the juice bottle. “I didn’t see much of you last night, either. You look way too tense for me to think you got laid.”
I make a note not to drink any more juice unless there is an unopened bottle in the fridge. “The party scene is getting a little tired. Maybe I’m just too old for this shit. I spent most of the night hanging out in my room.”
“Alone, obviously.” Cole’s expression is quizzical as he studies me. “I haven’t seen you with anyone since you so spectacularly ended things with Olivia. Don’t tell me you’ve got blue balls.”
“Who’s got blue balls?” Nolan strides into the room and yanks open the fridge door with a loud bang.
Cole jerks his chin at me. “I think Mr. President might be pining.”
Nolan casts me a sly glance. “And here I was thinking that nothing could take down our resident ladies' man. You want me to order Olivia to suck your dick. She is a pledge, after all.”
“She disappeared at the end of the night, too,” Cole points out. “Maybe that’s where Brady got off to.”
Nolan laughs derisively. “Wouldn’t put it past her. That girl gets around like nobody’s business. I can’t wait until Brady lets us know what we’re going to do to her next. I’m kind of hoping she never takes the hint and gets the fuck out of St. Bart’s. Torturing her is way more fun.”
I take a bite of cereal that tastes like dirt. When I swallow, it feels like I’m trying to force a rock down my throat. “I guess fun is one word for it.”
A cruel gleam shines in Nolan’s eyes. “Speaking of torture, I think I’ve got a way to make her squirm and get Drake’s itch scratched at the same time.”
Cole takes another gulp of orange juice. “What’s that?”
“All of us at the strip club. Tonight.”
Drumville has exactly one strip club, though they like to call it a gentleman’s lounge, like that will make it sound less dirty. This town is a common highway stop for long-haul truckers, and the place reflects the clientele.
The last thing I want to do is go to some seedy club and watch a bunch of desperate women shake their asses for sweat-soaked dollar bills.
Before I have a chance to respond, Brady strides into the kitchen.
“Morning, assholes.”
Brady is still wearing his wrinkled suit from last night, and he looks like he just came down from a week-long bender. His eyes are bloodshot and a purple bruise blossoms on the side of his head.
Nolan immediately straightens like he’s a schoolboy, and the teacher just entered the room. Cole’s reaction is a shocked laugh.
