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At least an hour passes and I still haven’t seen Brady.
Then another hour goes by and I start to feel more than a little desperate.
My phone is in my pocket. I think about texting Drake, but resist the impulse. He can’t help me right now, not without giving himself away.
But it’s going to be hard to spike Brady’s drinks when he hasn’t shown up to get any.
The crowd has thinned enough that I’m finally alone in the kitchen. I can hear the chatter of conversation from the living room and the low thrum of bass from the sound system, but it’s obvious that plenty of people have already gone home.
This party is almost over, and I haven’t accomplished anything.
Ryan Fernandez, another pledge, hurries past the table with his arms full of empty beer cans. Clearly, he has been relegated to clean-up duty during the party. The same can probably be said of most of the other pledges.
It’s more than a little crazy how many people think it’s okay to just leave their trash scattered around the place.
“Have you seen Brady around?” I ask casually as he kneels by the table to gather up the used cups.
His gaze slants up at me. “Why?”
I pick up an expensive bottle of whiskey that was hidden behind the others. “I’m supposed to get him a drink with the good stuff. I can’t do that if I don’t know where he is.”
“I think I saw him go down into the basement.” Ryan gets up and dumps the cups he gathered into the nearby trash. “You need me to watch the bar?”
“That would be great. Just give me a second to get it ready.”
While Ryan turns away to tie off a trash bag, I hurry to pour a drink that will put Brady’s ass in the air. With the party almost over already, there isn’t time to worry about steadily plying him with one tainted drink at a time. We need to get this done as quickly as possible.
With my gaze trained on the back of Ryan’s head, I fish out the bottle. Instead of adding one drop to the glass, I add at least five before slipping the bottle back into my pocket. When I add a handful of ice and a healthy pour of whiskey, then give it a good stir, nothing about the drink looks out of the ordinary.
I sniff it once and only get the acrid sting of alcohol.
On impulse, I empty a full dropper’s worth of liquid directly into the whiskey bottle.
When Ryan returns to the bar and gestures for me to go, I hold up the drink and shake it enough to make the ice cubes clink together. “Be back in just a minute.”
“Hanging out here is way better than picking up beer cans.” Ryan picks up a bottle of tequila and pours himself a shot. “Take your time.”
“Oh, I will.”
Chapter Twenty
I’m not exactly loving the idea of following Brady into the basement, but it doesn’t seem like I have a choice. With the laced drink in one hand and the bottle in the other, I set out to find him.
I make sure that no one is paying attention as I head for the basement. Wearing shitty clothes probably helps. No one bothers the girl who looks like she hasn’t showered in a week.
The basement stairs are dark, but I force myself down them despite an innate desire to run in the opposite direction. Noise from the party is impossible to hear once the door closes behind me. It would be easy to believe that the house is completely empty.
There isn’t any noise coming from down here, either.
I can’t help but wonder if Ryan is playing a trick on me because it really doesn’t seem like anyone is down here.
Part of me is definitely hoping that no one is down here.
All the random items in the basement make the space feel more ominous than it should. The shape of horns hidden underneath a piece of cloth make me wonder what happened to the dead animal it came from.
Holding my breath, I push open the door of the back room.
There isn’t anyone here.
