The Game That Breaks Us (Us 3)

Loud drunks.

Sad drunks.

Silly drunks.

Happy drunks.

And reckless drunks.

Grace is a silly drunk.

“Another!” she declares, slamming her last glass on the table and hiccups, then giggles.

“Nah, I think you’re good,” I tell her, trying not laugh.

She pouts. “I want more.”

I shake my head. “Maybe later.” More like never, but I don’t tell her that. The girl is a lightwe

ight, and there’s no way she’ll be able to stomach anything else and still function.

“You’re such a fun sucker.”

I laugh. “I don’t hear that one often.”

She glances down at dance floor. “I’m going to dance.” Before I can blink, she’s up out of her chair, heading for the exit of the VIP room.

“Like hell you are,” I mutter under my breath, storming after her.

When I get to the hall, she’s already gone. I look left and then right so fast that my head probably blurs. How can someone in heels that high walk that fast? It can’t be humanly possible.

“Fuck,” I curse, tearing at my hair. I practically run down the stairs into the club and of-fucking-course she’s disappeared yet again, swallowed whole by the crowd. The chances of me finding her are slim to none, like finding a needle in a haystack. But I never give up, and I’ll burn down the damn haystack if that’s what it takes to find the needle.

I shove my way through the crowd, my eyes searching every person I pass.

“Dammit, Grace. Where the fuck are you?”

Panic rises inside me and I never panic. But the thought that Grace is drunk off her ass and lost in here is killing me. If she gets hurt, or some guy gropes her, it’s my fault.

“Hey, watch where you’re going.” Some beefy ass dude shoves me away. I’m tempted to punch the fucker in the face but I have more important matters at hand.

I spot a flash of glossy brown hair in a ponytail and grab the girl’s shoulder. “Grace?” She looks up at me, her blue eyes pissed off. I immediately let go. “Not Grace.”

I move along the dance floor, but she’s nowhere to be found. I’m beginning to worry that she left, and the thought of her outside wandering the streets alone actually scares me.

I head toward the bar to find Danicka in the hope that maybe she’s seen Grace.

That’s when I finally spot her, leaning over the bar speaking to one of the male bartenders. The guy grins and she throws her head back and laughs.

Oh, hell no.

I storm forward. “What do you think you’re doing, Princess?”

She nearly collapses in my arms. “Bennett, I was just talking to Peter here thanking him for the delicious drinks.”

“Danicka made your drinks, remember?” I tell her, holding onto her waist so she doesn’t fall.

“Ugh, Porn Star, that’s right. I remember now.” She taps her forehead.