Page 2

CHAPTER ONE

In the glow of the light over the kitchen sink stands a guy I’ve never seen before. He isn’t drinking; he’s just leaning and watching, one elbow on the counter behind him. When he straightens, I realize he’s looking at me. Looking at me looking at him.

I like the way he looks. Short dark hair, full mouth, and dark brown eyes. It’s hard to tell from a few yards away, but I’m pretty sure those eyes are rimmed with thick, black lashes.

As a couple of big guys pass between us, I suck in a breath and chastise myself. My boyfriend is somewhere in this house and here I am, staring at some strange man’s eyes. I dare to glance at him again. He’s still watching me, and his eyes are so warm, so inviting, so…

Hands seize my waist and I whip around with a squeak.

“Hey, babe.” Zander pulls me in close and plants a wet kiss on my neck. He’s sweaty and smells like weed, but he’s gorgeous. He’s never not gorgeous. “I’ve been looking all over for you. I got you another beer.”

Taking the bottle, I ask, “Where’d you put the cooler?

” Zander always keeps a special stash of beer tucked away for me so I don’t have to fight my way to the keg.

He hides it in a new place each time the frat throws a party, even though he doesn’t need to.

All the Omega Chi brothers know me, and they know that cooler’s mine.

If they stole even one bottle, Zander would break it over their heads.

“Doesn’t matter.” He grins and watches me take a sip. “Haven’t I been keeping you supplied all night?”

I shrug. Zander has his tricks, his ways of making sure I don’t get too far out of his sight. It’s not me he doesn’t trust, he says, it’s other guys.

I don’t glance into the kitchen again and I don’t ask Zander if he knows the stranger leaning against the counter.

The Omega Chi’s will welcome any girl to their parties.

I’m used to seeing new female faces, each prettier than the last. But I’m not used to seeing unfamiliar men.

Because of the frat’s unofficial sixty-forty, female-to-male policy, they rarely let unvetted guys in.

If I point out Brown Eyes to Zander, there’s a good chance he’d escort him personally, and forcefully, out the side door.

Zander twists my hips with his big hands. “Let’s go downstairs.”

“I just got up here.”

“So?”

He leans in for a kiss, a kiss I’m about to return, when my heart suddenly freezes and drops to my toes.

Fear closes in from all sides, like a gray fog threatening to envelop me.

My head buzzes and my fingers go numb. I’m in my boyfriend’s arms, surrounded by the sights, sounds, and smells of drunk, happy people, but it feels as though I’m standing alone in a bleak hell-scape, awaiting a catastrophe.

“Betts?” Zander squeezes me. “C’mon, let’s go.”

My insides are twisted into knots. I shake my head and will myself to breathe. I focus on his lean body pushing against mine, on the hardwood floor under my feet, on the scrape of fabric on skin as people brush past me.

He sighs. “What are you all freaked out about now?”

“Huh, what? Oh, um, nothing.” I force a smile before he can roll his eyes. No one appreciates it when I have one of these little “moments.”

You’re too sensitive.

Why do you let stuff get to you?

What’s the big deal?

As I blink up into Zander’s blue-green eyes, a sudden scream and a crash come from downstairs, so loud they vibrate in my feet.

His brows draw together. “What the fuck was that?”

I don’t have an answer.

Everyone around us is still drinking and laughing. Either they hadn’t heard the noises, or they don’t care. But when the music cuts off, they take notice. A hush settles over the room and everyone goes still, their curious eyes darting this way and that. It’s so creepy, I shiver.

Feet pound, louder and louder, on the basement stairs and a bunch of guys pour into the hallway.

“Everyone go home!” one of them shouts.

Nobody moves.

“I mean it! Get the fuck out of here!”

The guys, all Omega Chi brothers, start herding people to the nearest doors. That’s when I see the girl behind them, shoulders hunched and hands covering her mouth. She’s sheet white and her eyes are huge.

Zander grabs my hand and heads for the basement. “What the hell’s going on?” he asks Trevor, whose broad shoulders form a blockade at the top of the stairs.

Nearby, the panicked girl is rocking herself and gasping, “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.”

Trevor turns to Zander. “Some dude OD’d.”

“OD’d? On what?”

“His girlfriend said it’s Molly. He just, like, went over like a tree. I saw it. Right into the pool table.”

I ask, “Is he okay?”

Trevor swallows. “No. ”

Zander sobers up in an instant and launches into O-Chi president mode, asking if someone has called an ambulance and ordering his brothers to clear all illegal substances from view. Meanwhile, a few of the guys make sure there’s a straight path from the front door to the basement.

For the stretcher.

I glance over my shoulder to see the last of the guests filing out, among them Mr. Brown Eyes from the kitchen. His anxious gaze meets mine for no more than a second, then I blink and he’s gone. Over my other shoulder I see the terrified girl, gripping her stomach and trying to breathe.

I go over to her and lay a hand on her arm. “Is he...is the guy who’s…” The guys who’s what? Hurt? Sick? Dying? I exhale and try again. “Are you his girlfriend?”

She nods.

I ask gently, “Why aren’t you down there with him?”

She looks bewildered. “They told everyone to get out.”

“Come on.” I take her hand and lead her to the stairs.

I don’t want to go down there, but I know no one will question her if she’s with me. And sure enough, with no hesitation, Trevor lets us pass.

It’s chaos in the basement, even though the crowd has disappeared. Only four people remain: two brothers, some other guy, and a body laid out on the floor. One brother, who’s frantically scrolling on his phone, shouts, “Get a bag of ice! We need to cool him down!”

Thankfully, someone had sense enough to tip the sick guy onto his side.

I urge his girlfriend closer and watch as she drops to her knees beside him.

She strokes his hair, heedless of the bloody towel someone tucked under the back of his head.

He must’ve split it open on the pool table.

She jerks back when he starts to convulse and I do the same, not wanting to be showered in vomit.

But after another look, I realize with a sick feeling that it’s not that kind of convulsing.

His eyes are half open, but all I can see is their whites. I stare in horror as he’s seized by a spasm and goes rigid, arms and legs frozen at grotesque angles.

Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.

Footsteps thunder on the floor above us, and seconds later, the paramedics come rushing down the stairs. I move out of their path and find a wall to lean against, my legs weak and shaky.

“Let’s go back up and stay out of the way,” Zander says. I hadn’t even realized he’d followed me downstairs.

As we sink onto the couch in the living room, my gaze strays to the coffee table where cups and balls from a beer pong game sit, forlorn and abandoned.

Fifteen minutes ago, this house overflowed with carefree partygoers.

Now it’s an eerie, hollow shell. Halfheartedly, I glance around for my roommate, but it appears she’s left with everyone else.

“Molly? Seriously?” Zander grumbles as he puts an arm around me.

“We can’t have people doing shit like that here.

We could lose our charter.” It’s a fuzzy line the brothers have drawn between which drugs are and are not allowed at their parties.

The only time the line is solid is when someone gets caught.

A commotion calls my attention to the top of the stairs where the first of the paramedics appears, leading the procession.

I want to bury my face in Zander’s chest, but I can’t look away.

They’ve got the poor patient immobilized on a hard stretcher with straps across his legs, chest, and forehead.

Although the sight makes me clammy, it could be worse.

He’s not lying there with a sheet pulled over his face. Or in a body bag.

The girlfriend and the others who were downstairs follow them outside. And because the cops have shown up, Zander and Braden, President and VP, have to go out to answer questions. Numbly, I sit and wait, watching the red and blue lights flash in the open doorway.

After what seems like hours, the brothers return.

Braden flops into an overstuffed chair and lets loose a ragged breath. “Holy shit.”

Looking shell-shocked, Trevor rubs his face. Jenna, his girlfriend and O-Chi Sweetheart, murmurs to him softly and folds him into a hug.

Zander complains again about someone bringing Molly, and Braden joins in.

I’m too dazed and freaked out to scold them for being callous.

In my head, I try to replay the events of the last half hour, but they’re all a blur.

That weird wave of fear, the one that seemed to come out of nowhere—it couldn’t have been from the guy who OD’d, could it?

No, that’s impossible. At the time, I didn’t even know someone was in danger.

When Cole pours us all a round of J?ger, I slam mine back, wincing as it burns its way down my throat. Even though I hate the stuff, I nod at Cole for a refill. One more shot, please, because there’s no way I’m going to be able to fall asleep without it.