Page 178 of I’m The Worst

I always knew this day would come. I knew there’d be a point where he’d stop pretending I still had a choice. I couldn’t keep acting like this forever—not with our wedding getting closer.

I just…

I thought I had more time.

The loud bass pulses through my skull, the air of the mansion thick with sweat and bodies. It’s the kind of party I’d rather shoot myself in the fucking head than attend.

I shouldn’t fucking be here.

Another one of their goddamn traditions. Hunt Night. They release the Sluts into the woods—drugged, drunk, half-dressed or naked—and masked Sovereigns chase them down. To fuck. Or kill.

There are no rules.

I move through the crowd, my eyes scanning the room, fists clenched at my sides. She’s here somewhere. I fucking know it.

I heard her name being passed around earlier—someone bragging about how they were going to find her first. And now she’s not answering her fucking phone.

Again.

My temper ratchets tighter with every second I don’t see her.

I take the stairs two at a time, moving through the upstairs hallway, past rooms already filled with naked bodies. Voices. Grunts. Laughter. The sound of someone crying.

My hand tightens on the doorframe as I pass another open room. A Sovereign has a Slut bent over a vanity, two others taking turns with her mouth. Her mascara runs down her cheeks.

I keep moving.

“I knew you’d fucking come.” Graves laughs, stepping into my path.

He’s wearing only jeans, his chest bare, skin glistening with sweat.

“I’m not here for this shit.”

Graves smirks, his dark eyes glinting. “Sure. That’s why you’re scanning every room. Looking for someone specific?”

I glare at him.

“Hunt’s about to start, you’re gonna need this.” He shoves a grey-and-black wolf mask into my chest and laughs some more, walking away and pulling on a skull mask.

I turn down the next hallway, the mask in my grip. After checking more rooms, I reluctantly move downstairs. Drunk bodies pour out of glass doors into the sprawling estate grounds. The darkness beyond the manicured gardens looks endless.

Then I hear her.

I turn toward the sound and see AJ stumbling farther inside the house.

She’s barely dressed in a flimsy black slip that hangs off one shoulder, her hair tangled, her feet bare. Her face is flushed, her eyes glazed, and she’s clutching a half-empty bottle. I catch up with her quickly, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her back down the hall.

“Hey!” She jerks away, swaying on her feet as she turns on me. “What the hell?” Her eyes widen when they meet mine before she glares up at me. “Oh, great. You again.”

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” I hiss, dragging her toward the nearest empty room. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

She tries to pull away again, but I tighten my grip. I haul her inside and kick the door shut behind us. The second I turn, she’s right in my face, shoving at my chest.

“Get off me, you fucking asshole!”

I shove her back hard enough that she stumbles, catching herself on the bed.

“You shouldn’t be here, AJ.”