“Not right now.” Faith glanced over her shoulder and tipped her head toward her sister.
“Then not right now,” Derrick repeated. He brushed past her, not bothering to leave the bottle behind. Taking a place on a chocolate brown sofa, he patted the seat next to him. Faith scampered over and dropped next to him, accepting a quick gulp of Jack, but his eyes remained on Grace.
She hadn’t moved, still standing awkwardly by the door.
“Come join us.”
But Grace shook her head.
“You can’t stand there all night.” Faith detangled herself from her boyfriend and sat up to stretch her arms out to her sister.
“I think we should head to the bar now,” Grace said weakly.
“Well, sis, we have to convince Derrick to get us in.” Her attention immediately returned to the task at hand. She fiddled with the collar of his t-shirt.
“I told you we aren’t going out tonight.” He pushed her away. Leaning forward, he licked his lower lip. “We can party here—the three of us.”
“You know, I think I have a test tomorrow,” Grace said. It was a weak lie that did nothing to vanquish Derrick’s interest in her.
“I’ll help you study,” he offered.
“Oh my God, the two of you deserve each other.” Faith popped onto her feet. “I’m going to the bathroom.”
“Stay out of my meds.” Derrick called after her. He patted the sofa again. “I don’t bite.”
“I doubt that,” Grace grumbled under her breath.
Derrick laughed. “You’re funny. Look, I’m just being polite. I don’t give a shit if you sit down.”
He settled against the arm of the sofa. Grace watched him for a moment, her discomfort beginning to shift into embarrassment. He was older, but that didn’t mean anything. She and Faith would be eighteen in two weeks. Technically, at seventeen, they were already legally considered adults. It just hadn’t occurred to Grace that there were romantic options outside of her senior class. She took a seat on the far end of the sofa, leaving a cushion between them.
“You want some?” He held out the bottle of Jack.
She took a deep breath and nodded. They had gone out to party. A free drink here meant not having to let some sleazy guy sweat all over her at the bar later. But he didn’t reach out further. Instead he scooted next to her. His eyes drank her in as she took a swig. When she handed it back, he didn’t move away.
“Your slut of a sister is probably already in my Vicodin.” An unexpected harshness coated his words, and Grace shrank away. “She can’t help herself. She has to have it. What about you? Do you need it as much as your sister?”
“Screw you.” Grace slammed her palms into his chest, pushing him back as she jumped to her feet. Derrick was faster. His leg shooting out to trip her. Crumbling to the floor at his feet, he had a hold of her, towering above, before she could regain control of herself.
His acrid scent burned her nostrils. Derrick grabbed her hair and yanked. Grace scrambled closer, winding up on her knees before he could rip her hair from its roots. The rough pad of his thumb smeared across her lower lip, then he forced her mouth open.
“If you can't shut your whore mouth, I’ll have to find a way to keep you from talking.”
Whatever self-preservation had sent her to her knees shifted and she struggled in his grasp, raking her nails over any skin she could catch. Arms. Hands. How she wished she could reach higher and dig them into his handsome face. He needed to be marked as a monster. It was too late to warn her or Faith.
It might not be too late for someone else.
“What the hell are you doing?” Faith dropped the beer can she was holding and raced toward them. Pushing him away, her eyes flashed to Grace’s, full of warning. It was the same look she’d shot her as a child when Nana was in one of her moods.
She would handle this. She was the big sister, even if only by five minutes. It was her job.
Derrick staggered back a half step in the time it took for her to send that warning glance. Regaining his footing, he pointed down at Grace. “Your bitch of a sister needs a lesson in keeping quiet.”
“She’s a kid,” Faith shot back, crossing her arms so tightly that she was almost hugging herself. It was a small hint of weakness, but it was enough.
“You’re a fucking kid, too.” Derrick’s hand lashed out, cracking across her cheekbone. When she stumbled, he grabbed her arm and dragged her closer.
“That’s right.” Faith sneered at him, and Grace shrank against the carpet horrified that she’d dared to confront him. “I’m your baby doll, remember? That’s the agreement.”
Bile rose in Grace’s throat, and she barely managed to choke it down. It burned like the alcohol that had tempted her here.