Page 36 of The Illicit Play

“Okay, I’m coming to get you,” I tell her, relief pumping through me as I punch in her location and see that I’ll be there in seven minutes. Let’s make it five. “Don’t go anywhere with anyone, okay?”

“Okay.” She sounds kind of sleepy now, and it kills me to end the call with her.

I want to keep her on the line while I drive to this party, but if I take Wily’s phone, that’s going to alert him to something being up, and she asked me not to tell him.

Frowning down at his phone, I ignore my gut and delete evidence of the phone call. It feels wrong, and I’m torn between respecting her wasted wishes and letting my roommate know what the fuck is going on.

But he’ll just freak out, right?

Programming Blake’s number into my phone, I then run out the door, trying to tell myself that I’m doing the right thing.

All I do know for sure is that I need to get to her fast.

I’ll deal with the rest of this shit once I know she’s safe.

CHAPTER 11

BLAKE

Shit, I feel weird.

My brain’s a fuzzy mess, and yeah, I’ve been knocking back the shots, but this is different.

Something in the back of my muddy mind is warning me to get out.

But I can’t find the door. All I could find was a dark corner in between a wall and this cabinet-bookshelf thing. I don’t know what it is, but it’s towering above me right now, like an ominous demon… or maybe it’s keeping me safe and hidden.

I don’t know.

I don’t know anything.

My brain is scrambling to put two thoughts together.

I vaguely remembering stumbling into this spot, sinking down onto the floor. The shadows enveloped me, and I fumbled out my phone, not even knowing who I was dialing.

I just needed to get help.

Then some man with a deep voice answered.

He talked to me and told me to stay put. So I’m gonna do that.

Leaning my head back, I groan, my stomach roiling as I rest a shaky hand against my spinning head. The room is turning upside down, and I shut my eyes, trying to get off this ship.

The floor is tipping beneath me. Oh shit, I feel like I’m gonna puke or something.

I have to get out of here.

I’m gonna hurl chunks, and I don’t want to get my dress dirty.

Wait, am I even wearing a dress?

I look down at myself, struggling to make sense of the jeans and shirt I’m in. I thought I was dressed up for a party. I came to a party, didn’t I?

Where’s my jacket?

Cleo wouldn’t let me go in just jeans and a shirt. And my jacket. Did I have a jacket?

“Dress to impress, sweetheart.”Mom’s voice rings in my head.