Page 30 of Worse Than Enemies


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I settle for wandering around a little, going from room to room. I don’t know why I feel so restless. It’s better than standing in one place. All that’ll do is attract attention, and I don’t want attention. The music is good, at least, but I don’t have the confidence to jump in and start dancing with everybody else in the living room.

There must be at least a hundred people here now, and there’s more coming through the front door all the time. A guy and a girl are fighting as they come in, and she slaps him once they’re inside, then almost knocks me over when she marches away. That kind of drama, I’m used to. All you can do is stay out of the way.

“Where’s the bathroom?” I ask nobody in particular.

The guy standing closest to me points down the hall, where there’s an obvious line forming. I walked down the length of the line, and of course, Salem is not in it. Dammit. What am I supposed to do? I’ve never been good at randomly starting conversations with strangers.

I wonder if she saw this line and went upstairs. There must be bathrooms up there, too—there’s five in my new house, and this place is almost as big. I pick my way through the crowds on the stairs, mumbling excuse me even though I don’t think they can hear me. The hallway is pretty dark, but a few of the rooms have lights on inside and the doors are open so I can at least see where I’m going.

Smoke drifts out of the first room, where everybody is smoking weed, according to the smell. I don’t see Salem in there, so I keep going, even if a few hits might calm me down. But for all I know, other stuff is mixed in with the weed. It seems pretty lightweight compared to some things I’ve already seen around here.

In the next room, red lights run along the edges of the ceiling, giving it an eerie sort of glow. But inside, a few guys play video games. I’m almost surprised by how chill it seems until I realize one of the guys sitting on a beanbag chair on the end is in the middle of getting a blow job. Right in the middle of everything else going on around them. I back away, eyes wide. No Salem in there. I’m wishing I had never agreed to come.

Finally, I’m so desperate to find her I just start calling her name. “Salem? Are you in here?” I stick my head into another room, but all I get is a bunch of dirty looks from everybody who’s sitting around in a circle, drinking and talking.

The room across from that has its door partway open, though, there’s no light coming from inside. I decide to take a quick look, just in case. The way she’s drinking already, I’m a little worried. What if somebody tries to take advantage of her or something?

At first, I don’t know what I’m looking at. It’s enough of a surprise that it takes a second for my brain to catch up. All I see is a bunch of people and body parts moving around on, and near, a king-sized bed.

Finally, it hits me they’re all having sex. I don’t know how many of them there are and don’t want to hang around to count them. All I can do is gasp and close the door.

“Why don’t you go in?”

I jump at the sound of Haye’s voice before turning around. It’s the first time I’ve heard it tonight. I didn’t know he was here yet.

“Hayes,” I murmur. My heart was already pounding thanks to what I accidentally walked in on, and this makes it worse.

He’s practically on top of me, leaning down, leering in my face. “You don’t just look in on something like that and stay outside, you know.”

I’m shaking so hard that my teeth are almost chattering. It’s dark here. Maybe he can’t see me well enough to know how startled and uncomfortable I am. I fight to keep myself together, at least in front of him. “Who says?”

“That’s how it goes.” He moves a little closer until I’m flat against the closed door. “You want to be part of things, right? One of us?” His gaze moves down to my lips before darting up to my eyes again. “We could get started out here if you want.”

“Get away from me.” Before I realize what I’m doing, I place my hands against his chest and shove.

His hands dart out, grabbing my wrists and tightening around them until I wince. “What did I tell you? Don’t touch me.”

“Then give me some fucking space, and I won’t have to.”

Now I’ve really pissed him off. His hands tighten until I’m sure he’s going to break my wrists, but just as suddenly as he grabbed me, he lets go. “Fair enough.” He makes a big point of wiping his hands on his shirt like I’ve dirtied him.

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