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Me: Nah, not yet. But I think he’s probably just going to make me run in and get them coffee after we pick up Alex.
Londyn: Great, so he’s playing the servant card?
Me: I think so.
Londyn: I want to say I’m surprised, but I’m not. He’s such a jerk.
I should correct her, tell her that maybe he isn’t as horrible as we thought, but that would lead to a bunch of other questions that I’ll have to lie about. And since my tally for the day is going up really quickly, I decide to just let it drop.
Londyn: Crap, I have to go. Class is about to start. But you’re going to be here soon, right?
Me: Yeah, I’ll be there in a bit.
I hope.
After I finish texting Londyn, I sit in the SUV for another handful of minutes before I start to get really bored. And hot. Blaise left the windows rolled up and took the keys with him, and with the sun being fully risen, even though I wore a pair of shorts and a black T-shirt, the cab is starting to heat up fast. The more time that ticks by, the more my skin dampens with sweat.
I’d text Blaise, except I don’t have his number. I don’t have any of the Portersons’ digits.
About an hour in, I start to lose my cool. Not only is it stifling hot, but I’m miles away from town and it’s getting late.
“Fuck this shit.” I climb out of the car and stare down the driveway, trying to mentally calculate the distance back to town. It has to be at least a dozen miles.
I could always hotwire Blaise’s SUV, but I wouldn’t put it past him or Alex to call the cops on my thieving ass. Blaise never said I couldn’t go into the house, but it was sort of implied when he got out and didn’t invite me in. Then again, if he didn’t want me to go in, he shouldn’t have left me in the car for over an hour.
Squaring my shoulders, I march up to the house. Yeah, the place is beyond creep, and I’m not so sure I’m buying into it not being a crack house, but I’ve been to places like this before. A lot of times actually, needing to pick up my dad or settle a deal with someone my dad tried to screw over.
Payton also went through a phase about six months ago when she was spending a lot of time with a guy who was really into drugs. She swore to me she didn’t do any drugs with him, but that didn’t mean I just willingly let her hang out with him. No, she’d sneak off, and I’d have to drive to the dude’s house and drag her ass out kicking and screaming. He lived in a really sketchy area.
While I hate to judge this house by its torn-up side and lack of a roof, Blaise’s hesitation to go inside is enough for me to know that what’s on the inside isn’t going to be a welcome mat and a place smelling of freshly baked cookies.
But I got this.
I always got this.
18
HADLEY
When I arriveat the front door, I muster up a deep breath, collect my shit, and knock.
“Who the fuck is that?” a voice snaps from the other side. “We weren’t expecting anyone else, were we?”
I wince, but I keep my feet planted to the ground.
“I sure as hell wasn’t,” someone yells back.
They grow quiet.
I knock again, harder this time.
“Fuck.” Someone lets out a string of curses, then the door is cracked open. A trail of smoke snakes outside as a guy peers out at me, his gaze sweeping up and down me. “Who the hell are you?”
“I’m a …” I almost say a friend of Blaise’s, but that doesn’t seem accurate. “Look, I drove up here with Blaise, and I really need to talk to him.”
The guy’s bloodshot eyes measure me up. “Why?”
“Because …” I shift my weight, feeling more uneasy than I’d like. “Can you just tell him to come here please? It’s an emergency.”
