To kill Gina, Nolan has to be with her, so where the fuck would that Witch Bitch be on a Friday night? That’s fucking obvious. She’d be at a party, reigning over her court of vapid idiots.
Stuffing the letter into my pocket, I immediately call Connor. Before he can do his normal grunt of an answer, I ask, “Has your super wolf hearing picked up anything about a big party tonight?”
“Jeremy Mayer,” he answers without thought, his voice low and even. In the background, Callie asks who the guy is and why I need to know. Connor tells her he’s a soccer player, then asks me, “Why?”
“Because tonight was shit, and I’d like to have some fun,” I lie smoothly, grateful that the phone keeps him from hearing my erratic heartbeat.
Connor starts to growl into the phone.
I roll my eyes while my knuckles knock a random beat against the desk. “Not that kind of fucking fun. A beer. Maybe some pool if the guy has it.”
He huffs and hangs up.
“Fuck you too,” I mutter.
Twin Cedar Pass is a small town, so it doesn’t take much to use my phone to find Mayer’s address online. After sliding my phone into my jeans pocket, I get my boots and hastily put them on. Grabbing my keys out of my jacket pocket, I swiftly make my way outside to where my truck is parked. I hop in and start the engine, the tires chirping on my way down the long driveway.
While I fumble with my phone so I know where the fuck to go, Nolan’s sister appears beside me, half gold and half rot of the underworld.
“I really don’t have time for you,” I snarl, making a sharp turn of the wheel to keep from swerving off the road.
“You won’t save him,” she taunts with a cruel sneer. “You can’t save anyone.”
“Watch me, bitch,” I challenge, flipping her the bird as I speed off into the night.
∞∞∞
When I find the Shelby, I know I’m in the right place. Parking the truck in the middle of the street, I leap out and jog toward the party that is in full swing.
The house is packed and stinks of beer, sweat, and desperation. Not giving a fuck about anything but saving that dumbass from himself, I shove my way through the crowds surrounding the door and blocking the hall. At the entrance to the kitchen, a small blonde bounces up to me.
“Donovan, it’s been forever since I’ve seen you at one of these,” she exclaims, running her manicured fingers down my chest. “I’ve missed you.”
I don’t know who she is, but she reeks of some type of tropical perfume that makes me want to gag. Looking around the kitchen, I ask, “Have you seen Nolan?”
“Nolan?” She pouts her lips. “What about me? I can show you a good time.”
Grabbing her wrist, I wrench her hand from my body. She winces with pain and tries to tug her arm from my grasp, but it’s a wasted effort.
“I’m. Not. Interested,” I enunciate sharply, staring straight into her dull brown eyes. “Now, have you seen Nolan?”
“He’s… I think… I mean, I last saw him dancing in the living room,” she stutters, cowering under my full attention.
“Now was that so fucking hard?” I growl, releasing her.
She drops to the ground, and while rubbing her wrist, she glares daggers at me. “Fuck you, you gay bastard!”
“No, I fuck women too,” I correct. One very specific woman if she’ll let me.“I just won’t fuck you.”
I leave her seething on the ground, diving back into the crowds to track down where the hell the living room is in this damn house. More manicured hands slide up my arms, down my back, or across my chest, each attached to coy smiles and various iterations of how they have missed me. It’s like there’s a damn script and each of them only has that one line. I stop long enough to ask for directions and then bulldoze forward, offended squawks filling my wake.
When I finally reach my destination, there’s no sign of Nolan or Witch Bitch, but three of her minions dance near the DJ’s setup. They look almost identical, the same tight dresses in three different hues—blue, purple, and pink. Their hair is various shades of brown, and their faces have the same boring, conventionally attractive features. It’s like they were made in a mean girl minion factory.
Plowing through dancing couples, I stalk toward their little circle and yell, “Where’s your bitch leader?”
The minions glare at me, but they don’t dare ignore me, my expression looking deadly to anyone that gets in my way.
“Ginawas dancing with Nolan and Anastasia,” Pink Minion supplies unhelpfully, and then takes a shaky sip from her Solo cup.
