I hate him.
I worked vigorously, washing my hair and body, and then I used a file to dig Damon’s blood out of my finger nails. Getting out of the shower, I dressed and checked my bedroom door again to make sure it was locked before going to dry my hair.
But as soon as I was done—and I’d turned off the hair dryer—I noticed a vibration under my feet.
And my ears perked, hearing an indiscernible beat coming from downstairs.
Was that music?
I set the dryer down and walked toward my door. Leaning my ear into it, I heard a short, fast rhythm and then a few howls.
What the fuck?
Tossing my brush on the dresser, I pulled the chair away from where it was lodged under the handle and cracked open the door.
Loud music immediately hit me, and I could hear voices and laughter.
A lot of voices and laughter.
Leaving the door open, I dashed over to my window and looked out at the driveway.
It was flooded with cars.
“I don’t believe this,” I said to myself.
Whipping around, I charged out of my room and down the stairs, taking a look around at all of the people.
I clenched my jaw. What the hell was going on?
Some of them I recognized from being a couple of years behind me and still in high school, some were college students home for the weekend, and others I had no idea. Maybe people from neighboring towns? Locals?
They walked around with Solo cups, talking and laughing, and some even tried to call out to me to say hi, but I just ignored them.
I stormed through the house, going in and out of rooms, trying to find Michael. The finished basement and media room were packed full of people I barely recognized, and I couldn’t find any of the guys in the kitchen or on the patio, either.
I spotted Alex chatting with a couple of guys by the pool, but I didn’t have time to wonder how she’d gotten here so fast.
Where the hell was Michael?
The court.
I charged for the other end of the house, already hearing the pounding of a basketball coming from Michael’s huge indoor basketball court.
Swinging open the large double doors, I heard the squeaks of tennis shoes running across the polished wooden court floor as the echo of a basketball drifted up to the rafters. Several guys raced on the court with their shirts off, and I recognized a few of them. They were seniors now at Thunder Bay Prep.
Looking to my left, I spotted the carpeted hangout area, complete with couches and a refrigerator. Michael and Will sat on the large sofa, a sea of bottles and cups on the table before them, while Kai sat in a cushioned chair, looking anything but relaxed. His elbows rested on his knees, and he held the rim of a red cup between his fingers.
Stalking over to them, I stared disbelieving at the sight before me.
A party? They were fucking drinking?
“This isn’t seriously happening right now, is it?” I snapped, stopping in front of the table and looking over at Michael.
He raised his eyes but kept quiet.
“You kidnap my mother,” I started, “burn down my house, steal my money, lure me here, and then attack me.”
“We’re really sorry,” Will spoke up right away, sounding sincere.
What?
I opened my mouth to retort, but I was too stunned. I almost wanted to laugh. They were sorry? That was supposed to fix everything?
Will leaned forward and poured some alcohol into a rocks glass and held it up to me.
“Do you want ice in your tequila?” he asked in a gentle voice.
But I darted forward, slapping the glass out of his grasp and sending it flying to the ground. The tequila splashed across the carpet, making a couple of the girls standing nearby scurry away.
Breathing hard, I tipped my chin down and glared at Michael. “Tomorrow you’re going to put me on the phone with my mother,” I ordered. “You’re going to give me back every cent and schedule a contractor to start restoration on my house, which you will pay for! Do you understand?”
“We were going to anyway,” he replied and then looked at me curiously. “But I’m curious. What happens if we don’t?”
I stood up straight, folding my arms over my chest and curling my lips.
“Did you ever find the phone?” I asked. “There are a lot more videos on there, huh?”
Michael’s face slowly fell at my insinuation, and he sat up, resting his forearms on his knees. “You’re lying.”
I held up my hand, inspecting my nails. “Maybe.” I shrugged. “Or maybe I know where Trevor hides everything important to him. And maybe I know what the combination is, and maybe I’m willing to bet that, if he hasn’t destroyed the phone, then it’s in his special hiding place.” I looked straight at him, unable to hide the amusement I felt. “And maybe if I don’t get what I want, I won’t be nice and open up the safe for you.”
Anger crossed his face, and I could tell he was thrown for a loop. They’d assumed the phone was gone. They’d assumed they were safe.