Fuck. Don’t panic.
I straightened my shoulders and raised my chin. I inhaled through my nose before I let m
y words slice him. “The only way I will ever pay is in cash.”
He grinned. “Shame.”
My feet were urging me to back up. They wanted to drag me to the door and back outside to my car as Atticus crept forward. “It’ll be four hundred.”
I pulled back. “Four hundred?!” I stuttered over my words. “That’s, like, triple the price of what I paid Sky!”
He shrugged, throwing his hand out. “It’s not exactly easy to get my hands on something so unusual. Take it or leave it…or pay me in a different way.” He winked, and I almost threw up.
This fucking guy.
I reached into my purse with force, pulling out all the cash I had—which wasn’t four hundred dollars. Then, I all but snapped, “What’s your app name? I’ll wire the rest.”
He held out his hand, and I thrusted my phone into it. He typed something quickly, and I paid him the rest of the money.
Atticus handed the bag to me, letting his finger swipe the inside of my palm before I snatched it back and stepped into the hall. I quickly shoved the bag into my purse.
“Hit me up when you want some more. I put my number in your phone.” I didn’t so much as even nod at him before I was rushing down the stairs and weaving through the party.
I got what I had come for, and now it was time to get the fuck out before I had a panic attack at the mere look from another guy.
Chapter Six
Eric
Madeline went upstairs with some dude who looked like he snorted cocaine for fun, and even though I told myself not to care, I did anyway.
I fucking hated her. I hated her so much because I couldn’t hate her. I hated that, years later, after watching her turn into an uppity, imperious girl who bullied her way to the top, I still got a twinge of jealousy knowing she was with someone else.
I’d tricked my mind in the past, ignoring the way her hand would wrap around my best friend’s arm, looking the other way when he’d nip at her ear, but there was absolutely no way I was tricking my heart or my dick. Both had a mind of their own, and they weren’t so easily swayed.
Regardless, I did what I did best, and I pushed back on every single feeling flying through my body, and I went numb. I don’t care. I don’t care about anything.
I swung my arm back and dropped another sinker into the cup across from me.
“My boy is on fucking fire!” Jesse slapped my back, pointing at the duo in front of us. “Did you hear that? I said he’s on fire!”
“Yeah, we fucking heard you. You’re three feet away from us,” one of his frat brothers slurred. Jesse and I were obviously very good at pong, and they weren’t. They’d drank almost all of the cups on their end, and sadly, Jesse and I had both only had one cup each.
One cup of beer didn’t even put a single dent in my mood. I needed much more alcohol if I wanted to feel even the slight tingle of a buzz.
After we’d won the game, I started to rearrange the cups again, waiting for the next team to demolish. I glanced up at the stairs for the fifteenth time in three minutes and gritted my teeth.
There she was.
Fucking finally.
I assessed her hair, seeing if it was messy in that I-just-got-fucked type of way. Her clothes were on straight, her sexy-as-sin fishnet tights still tight on her legs. I found her lips to be normal-looking and not all red and swollen from rough kissing.
She looked okay physically, but the way her shoulders were crowding her ears, and how she was pushing and shoving people all while holding onto her purse like it was her lifeline to flee to the door, had my suspicions rising.
Madeline, the ever-so-poised girl who was consistently on her A game, never backing down from a fight, was running. If I wasn’t mistaken, she even looked a little scared.
I looked to the stairs and back to Madeline a few times before deciding I’d rather go after her than beat the fuck out of some guy who may not have deserved it.