Page 46 of Dirty Roulette

Chapter thirty-one

Payton

Imarch down the hallway into the lounge. Sleepy Eyes pours shots, vaping, and vibing. His eyelids are heavy as I stumble up to him.

“Can I get some tequila?”

Smoke billows from his mouth. “You want me to mix you a drink?” He asks with that smooth voice, telling me he is high as a kite. For someone working here, he really doesn’t give a fuck.

“No, pour that shit in a cup.”

“Ice?”

“No, straight.”

“Cool beans.”

I’m pissed and feeling more stupid than usual. He doesn’t measure it, he just pours me half a glass of tequila without question, and I smack a ten-dollar bill on the counter. I lean against the wall, sipping on my demons.

Might as well reap what I sow.

All I want to do is shoot bullets through my skull for never telling Charlie a damn thing.

I dip my head in Brody’s direction, watching him stand two feet behind me.

If they didn’t search me for weapons, I’d risk spending a lifetime in jail and stab him a million times over with the sharpest knife on the planet.

Brody leans on the bar. A sly smile is like a permanent scar on his face. “Can I get two cups with blue raspberry vodka and grape juice? One with ice, and another without. Also, can I have some sugar packets?”

“Yeah... whatever...” Sleepy Eyes says back.

He wiggles out a red cup from the plastic sleeve and pours Smirnoff mixing up the drink and hands them over before grabbing his vape, soaking in another hit.

Brody turns in my direction. “You want something?” He asks.

My nervous system short circuits and a shock wave claws to my fingertips. It’s like someone wrapped their hands around my neck because I can’t breathe when his eyes meet mine.

“No,” I say with a straight face, but my heartbeat rampages in my ears. I clutch the cup to my chest and turn my heel in the other direction and lean against a lonely wall, taking a long swig. The burn running down my esophagus is like a magical potion.

Brody stalks me and sets both drinks by the closet high round top table inches from me. “I can make you something better than a cup of Jose Cuervo,” he says in a fake nice tone, slapping several sugar packets next to his drinks.

“I’m not into douchebags.”

“Oh...” Brody tilts his head and smiles at me. “Well, I’m into lying virgins.”

“Prick...” I whisper. He’s poisonous, wrapping me in barbed wire, and thorns dig into my skin.

I crank my head and glare as Brody turns his back to me and pulls something out of his jean pocket. It happens too quickly. Right as a blink, I swear I saw the crackle of a clear capsule and white powder sprinkling into one of the cups.

I shake my head, and a group of people buzz past us, stepping on my toes and pushing against his shoulders. My body feels off. Everything is moving too fast. I’m swarmed around hundreds of clinking bottles and bodies.

Brody turns to me. He spins the ice with an index finger. I’m trapped in a movie on fast-forward. Dizzy and nauseous. I’m not sure if I’m dreaming or if Brody’s exact moves were real and recorded in my brain like a surveillance tape.

His neutral expression mushrooms into someone dark and scary. I’m legit standing in front of the Night Stalker himself. The thought of a suitcase and my body shoved in a rusty deep freezer sinks back in. The heaviness of my arms and legs melt into the floor.

I use every ounce of strength to storm up to him and shove him as hard as I can. “What did you put into that drink?” I ask.

Brody turns around, holding up his palms and the drink. “Whoa.”

“What did you put in the drink?”

“Umm...Grape juice and vodka?” He narrows his brows at me, looking around at gaping people turning with confused expressions.

“What else?”

Brody licks his index finger and uses the same finger to swirl and mix the drink. “Sugar.” He flashes two empty white packets. He cocks his brows with a devious smile. “Do you want one or something?”

Charlie parades over before my mouth can budge. She takes the drink into her hands and downs half of it. My heart falls to the pit of my stomach, watching the muscles in her throat swallow several large gulps.

“Thanks.” She pats Brody on the cheeks lightly with her fingers and sashays her shoulders back and forth. “This is really good!” She dips the cup to her lips, taking another large swig.

“Charlie, can we talk?” I swallow the brick cemented into my throat.

Brody wraps an arm around Charlie, glaring at me. His eyes are dark and cold, reading into my emotions as if they were written in neon on my forehead. He takes the red cup from Charlie’s hands and tilts it against his lips with his eyes locked onto mine.

Before he takes a sip, he mouths the words again. “It’s just sugar.”

I tell myself to tread carefully. “Please...” I say.

“What? Do you want to lie to me some more, then go sit on my brother’s lap? No, thanks.”

“I think she needs a stronger drink.” Brody laughs, handing Charlie the cup.

“I dunno why you are even here. Her boyfriend is going on stage.”

Charlie taps on the red cup, agitated. “Noah and I aren’t dating anymore.

..” Her eyes turn glossy as she sips on her drink and looks elsewhere.

Wait, rewind. Did I hear her correctly, and is there pain written in her expression as she frowns?

“Brody and I are friends again, maybe we’ll see where it goes.

” The way she looks me dead in the eyes tells me something is wrong.

It’s that twin sister sensation, like she is trying to scream at me through her brain waves.

“He cheated on you!” I argue, and Brody is winning all over again. This is how summer was. Every other week she was dumping Brody, blocking him, then running back to him. She’s not the same person I grew up with.

“And you lied to her about Roulette?” Brody cocks his brows and smirks at me. “Some friend you are.” He circles around me. I swallow hard, his shadow making me feel extremely small like a cat surrounded by a pack of wolves closing in.

“You said Ryder broke it up, not that you landed on him.” Charlie’s lips press in a fine line, sipping on the drink. “I gave you a million chances to tell me.”

“I didn’t know how to... he kissed me and I didn’t realize I had feelings for him.”

“Oh, now you admit to it. You’ve had feelings for him since eighth grade and lied to yourself for years.” Charlie chuckles, her eyes rolling as she takes another swig of her drink. “But you’re good at that, lying. Out of all people it was him, and you dumped him.”

“I called that.” Brody slaps the bottom of my cup, knocking around the contents. I yelp and almost drop it. My entire body shudders.

“Don’t touch me!” I stare at him hard, my blood pumping, ready to claw the skin right off his face.

“I’m just fucking with you.” He holds up his hands like I’m overreacting. “Chill.” The chuckle coming out of his mouth sounds like the devil himself.

“My brother’s heart isn’t a game.”

“I never said he’s just a game.” I argue.

“She’s trash. I told you that’s all she’ll ever be.” Brody grabs her shoulder and pulls her back. I hate how he’s twisting my flaws and spitting them out like I’m the joke.

My heart beats in my fingertips. “Shut the hell up. You are the worst kind of human.”

“Yeah, she definitely needs a drink.” He licks his lips, grabs the cup from Charlie’s hand, and takes a sip. “Girl, just ask, and I’ll get you a Xanax.”

“You’re both annoying!” Charlie snaps with arms folded. “I came here to listen to music, let’s go back downstairs. I don’t want to miss the opening song.”

“Wait wait wait... before we go,” Brody holds out the red cup and it’s inches from my face. “You should try it, Payt.” I push my palm into it and knock the drink to the floor. It splashes to our feet. No ice, nothing but a sticky lukewarm concoction.

Charlie’s mouth gapes open. It splattered all over her shoes. “Jesus, what’s gotten into you?”

Brody leans down and grabs the cup from the floor.

It’s just sugar.

His words whisper into my ears. I take a large mouthful of tequila.

“Charlie, can I talk to you for a second?”

“What does the tequila wanna say?”

“Alone?” I ask again, watching Brody lean down, snatching the empty cup. He crushes it and tosses it into the overflowing trash can behind him. Something inside me tells me he wishes that cup was me.

“Whatever you’re going to say, spit it out already.”

“Here.” Brody grabs another red cup from the counter. The ice swishes back and forth. White residual sinks and disappears... and I think I might be sick.

“I’ll be downstairs.” He taps her on the shoulder and walks through the crowd and blends into the mesh of people.

“What’s your problem?” Charlie asks. I stare at the red cup with Satan’s blood in it. “Are you gonna say anything?” She’s sloppy and wobbles back and forth. I reach for the cup, but she turns away sharply and starts to chug again.

“Forget it!” I throw up peace signs holding onto the cup of tequila.

“Oh my god! I’m not about to deal with your self-pity tonight.” Charlie bats her lashes. She leans against the round table and crosses her arms. “I dunno why I even thought we could still be friends.” She chugs the Smirnoff like its water.

“I think I might be in love with your brother, and I’m terrified to even talk to you. All you do is judge me, and tell me how ugly and stupid I look. That’s not what a friend does.”

“I’m the terrible friend?” She scoffs in surprise.

“I’ve always told you the truth even if you didn’t like to hear it.

I was the one combing your damn hair, and making you wear decent clothes.

I’m not your mother, but I’ve been one to you since we were little.

I doubt you love Sebastian, you walked out on him and told him you want nothing to do with him.

I’m so sick of chicks messing with him.”

“I’m not going to apologize for landing on him.”