Since most of the party is near the rear of the house, I push toward the front. The number of guests starts to thin and I turn down an empty hallway, skin-crawlingly aware that Jason’s only a few strides behind me. I’m trying to look like I’m searching for a bathroom. He’s trying to look like . . . I have no idea. I refuse to turn around. With every step, I’m chickening out.
“Where you goin’, Wick?” He’s closer than I thought and sweat pops up between my shoulder blades.
“Somewhere quiet.” I turn to face him. “My dad said this was really important. We don’t want any interruptions.”
“Good idea.”
You won’t think so when we get there—if we get there. His skin is shimmery with sweat and his eyes are dilated. The roofies have hit him hard. I have two minutes. Maybe.
I shoulder open the nearest door, spilling both of us into a dimly lit home office. Jason plows into me from behind, closing a fist around my arm. “What did Michael say?”
I shudder. Another name I hate. My father’s.
“What’s he want?” Jason asks, giving me a shake.
I shove him. Hard. Thank God for the Rohypnol because he spins, staggers, and drops onto a leather sofa wedged under a picture window. I close the door behind us, slump against the wood. My costume is twisted from where he grabbed me and my dark wig is crooked. I pull it off, shake my hair loose.
Jason’s face screws tight. “What the hell is your problem?”
“You.”
He stabs both hands into the couch, tries to stand, and falls. Horror crawls across his face. “Did you—”
“Give you a little trip? Yeah,” I say, knowing he’ll never remember it. Like roofie victims before him, his memory of tonight is going to smear into an ugly blank. I come a little closer. “Do you even care what happens to them?”
Them. The girls. They don’t have names. Ends up not mattering though because Jason doesn’t pretend to be confused.
“No, I don’t.”
“I do.” In fact, I like telling myself that’s the real reason I’m here. It’s easier than seeing Bren or Lily or Griff behind my eyes. Jason shifts, tries to move, and can’t. It’s like someone poured him into place. I’ve seen the look before. I have less than one minute.
“Bitch,” he whispers.
Yes. Probably. I wait, counting down the seconds and watching something that might be fear shadowbox behind the dealer’s eyes.
“Looks like Lell,” Jason mutters, tilts sideways, and passes out.
The hell? On the other side of the office door, people walk by. Someone laughs and I stiffen. Now is so not the time to hesitate. We could be interrupted at any minute, but I can’t bring myself to touch him. He smells like the peppermints he’s always chewing and it makes my throat funnel shut.
Suddenly, I’m not in Judge Bay’s home office. I’m back in my bedroom, smelling peppermints on Todd’s breath and watching him slice me open. I need to move and I can’t move.
Another laugh. Closer this time.
Get going.
I drop to my knees, ramming one hand into Jason’s pocket. First the left then the right. There it is. I pull out his iPhone and enter the security code I watched him use earlier. The home screen appears and I load the browser, start downloading a GPS tracking app.
Another moment and I’m done. Jason will never know it’s there and Carson can watch him whenever he likes. Though it’s weird that he even wants to. I can’t help wondering what Carson’s angle is. Jason’s mid-level. Carson’s usually interested in bigger fish.
Best not to think about it. I use my dress to wipe any prints from the iPhone and slide it into Jason’s jeans pocket. Pushing both hands into the floor, I start to stand and something scrapes the window. I freeze as a shadow glides over us.
Shit.
I drop to the floor, scrambling backward on my hands and knees. I hit the desk and, shoulders rammed against its side, I watch the window. The shadow reappears. There’s another scrape, a rattle as the window shakes.
He’s trying to get in.
I cover my mouth with both hands, chewing down a scream.
He’ll catch me. He’ll—he’s stopping.
The guy leans close to the glass, staring down at Jason. His head twitches and looks straight ahead. Right at me.
He can’t see you. He can’t see you. He can only see Jason because he’s so close.
The shadow pulls back, looks right, then left. If he goes for help, I’m screwed.
He goes right, disappearing into the dark, and my breath escapes in a rush.
Gotta get out of here. I kick my feet under me, keeping the window in sight as I move toward the door, grabbing my wig from the floor as I pass. My hands bump into the handle and I hesitate. The outside hallway is lit. If he’s still near the window, he’ll see me when I open the door.
I swallow hard and press down on the handle, cracking the door open just enough to slip into the deserted hallway. For a moment, there’s no one and I can breathe again.