Page 136 of The Bitter Words

“They really pack them in.” Livianna reaches into her clutch and takes out a round silver makeup compact. “I don’t miss it at all.”

Mateo takes the conversation from there. We settle in and enjoy each other’s company while Gia sips on her champagne. Livianna, on the other hand, is already on her second glass.

I do a mental count. She drank half of her first drink. Then she had the double vodka soda I ordered for her. If my math is correct, she’s on her fourth or fifth beverage of the night. Given how small she is, she must be feeling it.

I lean toward her and listen to her go on about how much she despises the film industry. She tries hard not to slur.

Given she’s had a lot of practice in accentuating her words when she was an actress, I’m not surprised by how well she hides how intoxicated she must be.

I tilt my head to the side and stare into her eyes. Her pupils are the size of pinpricks.

Fuck!

She’s mixing drugs with alcohol. I don’t partake, but I know for a fact the interaction of two of anything can be deadly. Adrenaline surges through me.

How do I get her to stop drinking without making it seem like I’m trying to parent her?

I shift and glance around the room. I need to find a way to distract her. Nothing comes to mind.

Gia says something and they all laugh. I miss it and stumble over my response.

Livianna places her palm on my shoulder. “What’s wrong? You look like something’s bothering you.”

They all bring their attention to me. I try to calm myself and come up with a perfect excuse.

“It’s nothing. I’m just wondering if we should slow down on these.” I lift my glass and shake the remaining whiskey andice. “It’s not even midnight and I’m already pretty buzzed. You’ve all had more than me. If I’m feeling it, you must be, too.”

“Jaxon Crowne is a lightweight.” She removes her hand, picks up her champagne, and drinks most of what’s left.

As she’s placing the flute down, she licks liquid off her lips. Then she flashes me a defiant smile as if she’s daring me to say something to her. I rest back and don’t give her the satisfaction.

They continue their discussion, and I fret but won’t play her childish games. If she wants to destroy her body, who am I to stop her? There’s a problem with my thought process, though.

For some fucked-up reason, I care about Livianna Hemings more than I want to admit. She’s proven to be intelligent, driven, tenacious, successful, beautiful, and the list goes on.

The last thing I want is for her to injure herself in some way. So when she excuses herself, saying she spotted a friend she wants to say hi to, I keep my eyes on her.

She leaves her purse at the table but has her palm grasped around the metal compact like it holds her lifeline.

That’s it. That’s not a makeup compact. It’s where she keeps her stash.

My heart beats wildly, knowing she very well could be heading for an overdose if she does any more drugs and then continues to drink.

I know she’ll do it if I don’t convince her not to because we haven’t even celebrated the New Year’s countdown yet, and she won’t let anything or anyone stop her from getting what she wants.

Over the years, watching her handle her dad so she gets her way has taught me that much and I’m not even around often. I can only imagine how much it truly happens.

It’s got to be mind-boggling the number of times she’stalked her way out of something or into her parents caving in to her demands. I’ve witnessed it myself. She’s a pro.

She peeks over her shoulder in Gia’s direction as she slips through the entrance of the event. Where is she going? The bathrooms aren’t out there.

I have to intervene, so I excuse myself and rush off to follow her. I race through the area and see her disappear into a smoking section.

She’s definitely planning on using some kind of drug. I run to the door and swing it open.

I step inside, trying to catch my breath. “Livianna. Stop!”

She freezes, then slowly faces me. “Jax, you followed me. That means my plan worked.”