Page 132 of Wicked Little Darling

I walked faster, heading toward all that light and noise.

People were laughing and talking loudly outside when I got there, streaming down the porch steps and overflowing onto the lawn like a waterfall of drunken merriment. The front door was wide open, people going in and out, weaving around each other, cups in hand.

So this was what normal people did? Or people who had some kind of social life.

People who weren’t obsessed with their roommate.

Nobody gave me a second glance as I made my way across the grass, up the steps, through the door. The only lights inside were set up somewhere I couldn’t see, flashing different colorsto the beat of the music, making everyone seem like they were moving in slow motion. Someone bumped into me, then shouted an apology in my direction.

I weaved my way through bodies toward what I thought might be the kitchen. There were fewer people here, and three kegs set up. Someone was pouring drinks from one of them and handing them out, smiling and laughing. Someone was pouring shots from a row of liquor bottles on the counter. I walked up to the guy passing out red cups at the keg and he handed me one, his eyes falling to my birthmark.

He gave me an upnod and went back to pouring drinks.

I moved aside to let other people through and chugged the beer as fast as I could, gagged when I reached the foam, then wiped my mouth and got back in line.

When I handed the cup back to the guy, he took it and filled it again with a knowing smile because apparently this kind of behavior was typical at a college party.

A hazy warmth spread through my system, and the numbness that settled over me began to diffuse into a vague sense of bliss.

I wanted more of that. I wanted to drown in that bliss, to go as deep as I could.

After a few beers, I made my way over to the guy pouring shots and had a few of those.

At one point, my phone buzzed in my pocket, but I ignored it and kept drinking.

I was starting to understand why my dad had turned to this. Why he’d chosen to forget over forgiveness. It felt good to forget. Too good.

I had a few more shots, then someone asked me if I wanted to play a game, and I smiled and followed them out of the room.

I hadn’t played any kind of game in a long time.

I let myself sink even further, drift on all that hazy bliss until the voices around sounded like they were coming from the end of a tunnel that I was disappearing into. I imagined my footsteps echoing softly in the darkness, my hands reaching out in front of me, feeling for obstacles as soothing murmurs floated down to me. I imagined warmth and a sweet, smoky scent that tickled my nose. I felt gentle hands caressing me in the dark, lifting me, making me feel like I was flying instead of walking. I heard music; violins playing a concerto, drifting around me and filling every inch of my being.

I heard my dad’s voice at some point.We all have demons, kid. They just don’t look the same. Mine’s a nasty little bugger with sharp teeth and purple horns. What’s yours look like?

Mine looked like a dark-haired, dark-eyed boy. Mine was more beautiful than any angel, more devious than any devil. Mine was equal parts predictable and confusing. Irrational and overwhelming.

My demon was Dakota Voss, and he frightened me more than death itself.

24

OF ALL THE LIES YOU COULD’VE TOLD, IT JUST HAD TO BE THE TRUTH

DAKOTA

“I’m fine, Dakota, stop worrying so much. I’ll call you in the morning,” Val said. He sounded exhausted.

My footsteps echoed loudly in the stairwell, and I rubbed my eyes. “I will never not worry about you. Call me if anything happens, okay? Anything at all.”

“I will. Now go see your man.”

I laughed and tried to ignore the unease that had been gnawing at the back of my mind for days. “Yeah, love you.”

“Love you too.”

I hung up, then opened my messages to Reese again.

I was worried about Reese as much as I was worried about Val. My brother would be okay, I knew that, but every time he got sick and had to be hospitalized, I couldn’t shake the dread that took over me. All thewhat ifsandmaybesplayed through my mind like an awful soundtrack, and all I could do was stay by his side, let the doctors help him and wait for him to get better.