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“Mercy DeLeon,” he says, and my full name sounds so weird coming from him. Like hearing a teacher say your name on the weekend. Or something. I giggle in response, and he shakes me a little. “Hey. Look at me.”
Finally, I glance up and nearly get lost in the thrashing storm of his eyes. They’re so gray, so deep and a little dark. I forget to blink for a bit, and he stares right back at me.
“Are you drunk?” he demands, scowling.
I shake my head. Because I’m not. At least I don’t think I am? I had drinks. But it’s not the drinks.
Whatever Sloan sees in my face lets him know something is wrong, clearly, because he has that look on his face. That angry look like I’ve disappointed him.
In the mishmash of the feelings fighting for dominance in my chest, anger claws its way to the surface, flaring too hot and too bright. “Don’t you fucking judge me,” I say, and it’s too loud to my own ears.
“What the fuck did you do?” Sloan shoots back, and I try to pull away from him again, but his fingers dig in harder. “Mercy, what did you do?”
“Get away from me,” I snap. “You don’t care. None of you. You don’t fucking care!”
I can’t control the words coming out of my mouth, and in the middle of the anger, I start feeling like I want to cry again. I rub my hands up and down my arms, and suddenly even my skin feels too tight. Everything is too much, and I want to lie in a cold, dark room for a little while.
Sloan keeps his hands on my shoulders and steers me away from the crowd. Rory and Levi materialize out of nowhere, and Sloan says something to them that I don’t catch.
Whatever it is, it gets them to put their hands on me too, and I flinch away. “No,” I mutter.
“Hey,” Rory says. “You’re okay. We’re going to get you out of here.”
“Wanna go home,” I reply, sounding miserable.
They propel me a little faster out the door.
The air outside feels like a revelation against my heated face and skin, and I stop to drag in deep gulps of the fresh air. It’s quieter out here, and the grass looks nice and soft. Like it would be a good place to lie down and take a little nap.
I start trying to head in that direction, but they won’t let me. Of course they won’t fucking let me. They never let me do anything I want to do. It’s all what they want. Always what they want. I can’t even lie down in the grass without Sloan pulling me back, trying to drag me off down the driveway to where the car is parked.
I struggle against his hold, and Rory steps in closer, helping him keep me close.
“Leave me alone!” The words pour from my lips over and over again. “Leave me the fuck alone!”
“We’re going to take you home,” Levi says, and I glance at him. His eyes are so brown. Like chocolate. Like velvet. “Let us take you home, okay? We’ll take care of you.”
I don’t believe him. They sent my dad out there to die, and they won’t do anything to help him. They don’t care about him, and they obviously don’t care about me. I can’t trust them.
But I’m so tired. My limbs feel like they weigh a hundred pounds, and it’s hard to even lift my legs to get in the car, so Sloan and Rory mostly lift me in.
Sloan takes the front seat, while Rory and Levi climb in the back with me, one of them on either side.
“What the fuck happened?” Levi asks once Sloan gets the car moving.
“She wouldn’t tell me,” Sloan replies darkly. “I don’t know if she knows.”
“Knowing the people at that party, could have been anything,” Rory chimes in with a sigh.
Their words sort of go over my head, drifting in and out of my ears as the drugs kick in even harder. It’s unbearable to be sitting in the stifling car,
and the halter neck of my dress feels like it’s choking me.
If I don’t get this dress off, I feel like I won’t be able to breathe, and I reach around to the back for the zipper, trying to get it off.
“Mercy, no,” Levi says, batting my hands away. “Keep your clothes on.”
“It’s too fucking hot,” I complain, moving away from him and closer to Rory. “Stop it. It’s my dress, and I’ll take it off if I fucking want to. You’re not my fucking boss.”
