“I don’t—” I began, but stopped short. I didn’t know what to say to her. I’m pretty sure Hallmark doesn’t make a card for bonding over illegal activities.

“What?” she asked again.

I changed tactics and shifted my hip against the counter. “What are you doing up here?”

“I came to find you.”

“Hmm mmm. Why?”

“I…,” Mandy wavered, rolling her eyes, “because I can’t handle all of them downstairs.”

“Oh. You mean the little trio of Pop-Tarts downstairs?” I mocked, sweetly. “How can you not? They’re so…sugarlicious”

Mandy chuckled, and then groaned. “Ugh. You’d think I could handle this. This was me, four years ago before Dev and I got together. But now, Jasmine’s scared to be in the same room as me, Devon looks like he’s going to bolt any second, and Amber, I’ve realized, has no spine. Plus,” she sighed, “I think they’ve replaced me with Sasha Klinnleys.”

“I call her Hooters Bitch.”

“I just…I feel like I’ve lost my place. You know?”

“You’re asking me?” I asked skeptically. “Mandy, welcome to my life the past six months.”

“What are you doing here, by the way?”

“Hiding,” I said without hesitation. I could at least tell her part of the truth.

“From?”

“From my life,” I said dryly. “My friends in Pedlam. Shelley and Kevin.”

“You mean, Mom and Dad.”

“Yeah.I guess.”

“Taryn…they’re your mom and dad too. You just gotta…let them.”

“Not really used to having parents around.”

“Well, I was grateful, but now…I’m thinking I should have had a nice dinner at home with Mom and Dad, instead of coming here.” Mandy cringed.

Just then Amber walked into the room, a large smile plastered on her face. She halted and placed her hands on her skinny hips. “We’re going to get in the pool. You guys want to come?”

“Um,” Mandy said uncertainly.

“No swimsuits,” I remarked.

“That’s okay. Tray’s family has a bunch in the changing rooms. Just go and pick one,” she said cheerfully, before bouncing back out.

This was not my scene—hanging out with the social elite—but it was Mandy’s and she needed my support so I pushed her forward. “Let’s go. Pick out a bikini to show off that hot bod. You’ll have both Devon and Carter drooling before the night’s over.”

Mandy didn’t look convinced, but she went anyway.

I knew my body and I knew what guys liked. I figured I might as well have some fun. So I picked a black bikini that tied at the sides. The folds accentuated the sweep at my breasts and I knew all the guys would take notice.

Which they did.

Amber, Sasha, and Jasmine were lounging at one end. Mandy was paddling with Carter in the shallow end of the pool. Tray was behind the bar. Bryce, Grant, and Devon were watching me.

Not one to not make a scene, I walked over to Mandy and jumped, completing a clean backflip in the air, over her and Carter. I managed to sweep my arms out in front me just as I hit the water, sending a small splash over my sister.

I kicked my way to Mandy’s side before I broke the surface, grinning at her shocked face.

“When did you learn to do that?” Mandy asked.

“I took swimming in the seventh grade at Earlington.”

“They’re the state champs,” Carter remarked.

“If you weren’t a swimmer, you were a loser there. I learned to swim.” I hauled myself out of the water and then jumped back in, laughing as Mandy scowled, knowing the splash would hit her full-force this time.

“Looks like you kept it up,” Carter noted when I swam back over to them.

One hand holding the side, I slicked my hair back and commented, “It was the only place I could get away from my boyfriend. I swam a lot to keep in shape.”

“He must’ve hated that.”

“Nah. He never knew.” It was true. Brian never knew I could swim. I’d always thought about joining the Pedlam swim team, but it didn’t seem the same. Earlington ate, breathed, and slept swimming. Pedlam, they didn’t really care. If you swam, you swam. If you didn’t, you were just like everyone else. But breaking against the water helped with arm strength. Which helped me when I had to climb—sometimes against the side of a building.

Brian knew I didn’t spend that much time lifting his weights. But he’d never ask how I could climb as quickly as I did.

He’d never cared to ask. That had been the bottom line.

“Rawley has a swim team. You should try out,” Mandy suggested.

“Maybe,” I offered. Climbing out, I crossed to the bar where Tray was talking with Grant and Bryce.

“Drink?” Tray asked, watching me intently, almost like he was trying to read me or something. What the hell?

“Beer.”

He grabbed a bottle of Michelob Golden Light and uncapped it.

The beer tasted good. I’ve never been a fruity drink girl and I’m certainly not a whiskey drinker, but beer made me think of the sun, water and friends. Which either ended with making love, some rough and passionate sex, or a fight.

An unusual calm had been called over the group and I didn’t know handle myself. Normally, I was either having sex or fighting with these people. Okay, there was only one person here that I was doing the first with, but the second, is why I’m so uncomfortable. I wasn’t under attack and I didn’t know how to deal with these people under any other circumstance. Jasmine had retracted her claws long ago and Sasha had either given up or she was just waiting for a better place for another go.

Normally—I was either having sex or fighting with these people. Okay, there was only one person here that I was doing the first. But the second…this is why I am uncomfortable.

I wasn’t under attack. And I didn’t know how to handle it.

Jasmine had retracted her claws long ago. And Sasha…either she’d given up or she was just waiting for a better place for another go.

Remember when Stephanie was my biggest headache in this town? Jeez. And her, I’d handled by making up a lie that she hooked up with Devon. Funny how my lie turned to be half-truth. He had hooked up, just not with her.

And Stephanie had fallen, fallen, to the point where she wasn’t even a blip on the social radar anymore.

And Mandy? Mandy had zeroed in on her, knowing full well that I’d lied to her. But she’d done it nonetheless.

Wow. It just hit me how much Mandy had changed with this whole Jasmine/Devon thing. She didn’t have the old spark in her anymore. But then again, seeing her grinning at whatever Carter had just whispered in her ear, I saw her glance a moment later to Devon. And I saw the hurt that flashed in her depths.

Yeah. My sister was hurting.

And for once, there was nothing I could do. I couldn’t go on the attack. I couldn’t blackmail anyone. I couldn’t break in somewhere and steal all their files, full of little ugly secrets. This—this I needed to sit back. And just let Mandy figure it out for herself.

Not my ammo in life.

“Taryn.” I came back to reality, realizing Bryce had spoken my name—and it looked like he’d done it a few times.

“Sorry.” I grinned ruefully. “What were you saying?”

“I was asking if you wanted to take a shot with us.” He flashed a cocky grin my way.

What the fuck?

“Sure.” I shrugged, turning in my place with Grant and Bryce, one on each side of me.

Tray set out the four glasses and filled each one. One by one, we tipped our heads back and slammed the shots.

Tray filled ‘em again.

This night might get interesting.

After the third—whoa—Jasmine, Amber, and Sasha had wandered over.

Tray set out some shots for them.

Devon was standing behind Jasmine uncertainly.

Seeing his jaw tighten, I realized he’d been watching Mandy and Carter in the pool. When Mandy let out a shriek of laughter, Devon grabbed Jasmine by the back of her arm.

Bryce nudged me. “We’re waiting.”

A fourth shot sat before me. Full and waiting.

I tipped it back and watched as Jasmine was listening to whatever Devon was whispering in her ear. I saw the smug look that came on her face and I saw that her hand reached behind him and entwined with his.

Shit.

This night was already getting interesting.

I begged out of the next round of shots. Sasha and Amber were finishing off their—third?—I think.

“Taryn, you aren’t done, are you?” Bryce taunted, watching me coolly. He looked smug. Narrowing my eyes, I took another long look at him and saw him wink at Tray. What the fuck?

What the hell was going on in his head?

“Maybe,” I said stiffly and shoved away from the group. I plopped down next to Mandy and Carter, dipping my legs in the pool.

“Hey,” Mandy murmured, disentangling from Carter as she swam in front of me. “What’s going on up there?”

“I don’t know. Some confusing shit.”

“What do you mean?”

“Pretty sure Bryce is trying to get me drunk,” I hesitated and said lamely, “and that’s it.”

“Bryce probably wants to see if he can get a piece.”

“Huh?” I was dumbfounded. Yeah. It made sense. A guy trying to get a girl drunk sometimes would equal getting a piece. Guys always think it’s a sure thing. But me? And Bryce?

Carter laughed. “Bryce bet Tray he could get in your pants.”

“And Tray agreed?” Okay. Now, I was just pissed. And insulted.

“No. Tray just said good luck, but he didn’t take the bet. Bryce probably thinks if he can get you, Tray’ll cough up the money.”

“What do you think?”

Carter chuckled. “Tray bet me how long before you send Bryce whimpering like a puppy dog.”

That made me grin. I’d never admit it to myself, but I was relieved that Tray hadn’t played me.

Bryce could come after me all he wanted. Maybe now I’d just have some fun with him.

Suddenly the pool area was flooded with voices. Turning around, I saw a good thirteen people turn the corner. Some were already dressed in bathing suits and vaulted over us into the pool. Others took a seat at the many patio tables.

Mandy murmured, her eyes wide, “Looks like we’re having a party.”

I glanced over my shoulder and saw Tray was busy hooking up a keg that some guy had wheeled over to him. There were four other guys, all carrying two more kegs.

“Looks like it’s going to be a party to remember,” I murmured, more to myself.

Devon and Jasmine disappeared into the house, holding hands.

This night was going to be full of drama. I could feel it in my bones.

*

So far, I was actually having a good time.

This guy, I think his name was Rooters, slapped a two on the deck.

“Fuck.”

“You shit.”

“Asshole.”

Rooters just grinned and flipped his last card on the table, as he announced, “Pres-i-dente!”

We were playing Assholes and Presidents. I was neutral, which really pissed me off.

This other fucker, Aaron, slammed his last card on the deck and shouted, “Vice-President! Vice-President. Oh yeah! Oh Yeah!”

I spotted my turn and slipped in my last pair of sixes.

“Neutral!” I called out, laughing when Helms flicked me off, because I’d skipped him.

Honey and Bits glared at me, which made me laugh even harder. That wasn’t their real names, but it was how I kept them apart. They seemed to appreciate the nicknames, since they’d been calling each other those names since I accidentally blurted them out after the last round.

I had been recruited into the game when Bryce had grabbed me and pushed me into the empty chair beside him. It seemed that two others had recently left, after starting their make out session during the game.

Before that, I’d stayed by the water for a while, but moved when it started getting colder out. Mandy and Carter were in the media room, making out. Tray was outside, talking with a group of guys by the kegs. And I’d gone the complete opposite direction when I caught a glimpse of Sasha and Amber, still in their bikinis, sitting on the laps of some guys at a patio table.

“Take that, fuckers!” Bryce hollered, throwing his last card on the pile.

Rooters rolled his eyes and drawled, “You’re neutral, dumb-ass.”

The table immediately quieted, waiting to see what Bryce would do. Guess the elite didn’t get treated that way.

Bryce shrugged and retorted, “Just wait. I’ll be Prez pretty soon and then you’ll be my beer bitch.”

Honey hooted. “Beer bitch, Rooters. That’s you all the time, isn’t it?”

Bit giggled, her eyes wistful as she skimmed over Bryce. “Yeah, beer bitch.”

Bryce fully knew the effect he had on the girl because he winked, grinning smugly at her. Downing the rest of his drink, he turned to me. “How about it, Taryn? Another shot?”

“Right. And give you the chance to drug my drink? I’m not an idiot,” I muttered, standing up. “I’ll get my own drink.”

“I said a shot. Not a drink. There’s a big difference,” Bryce argued back, following me.

“Whatever.” I know. It lacked my usual energy, but really—the guy hadn’t pissed me off enough to get the full force of my attitude. I guess I was still playing with him or maybe just playing along until he crossed the line. Then he’d be filleted.

Pushing through the crowd—it had tripled within the past hour—I half stumbled to the keg with Bryce right behind me. He put his hand on the small of my back for a moment. I don’t know why he took it away, but it was the only thing that saved him because I was already turning around, ready to kick his ass. I looked at him and saw that he wasn’t even looking at me.

Whatever.

I turned back around and saw Tray’s amused eyes; he’d seen the whole thing.

I grinned at him, taking the cup that he was extending to me.

Bryce hollered against my ear, “I need two shots. Pronto!”

“Ah!” I yelled. “Back the fuck up, Bryce!”

Bryce grinned, ignoring me as he reached for the two shots.

Miraculously, I found one in my hand and frowned. Was I—never mind—I’d already shot it.

That one was good.

“Five bucks, right?” I knew that voice.

I grinned dumbly, happy seeing Trent give Tray some money.”

“Trent!” I shouted.

He looked up, took one look at me, and shook his head, grinning. “Fuck, what are you doing here?”

I made my way to him, pushing two people out of the way. “I’m at a party,” I announced stupidly.

Trent sighed.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, moving closer. The music was so loud. Did it have to be that loud?

“That girl I hooked up with last night called. Said this was the party to be at.” Trent was frowning. Like, really, really frowning.

“Why are you looking like that?” I asked. It was a question that I needed answering. I didn’t like frowns, did I?

Trent shook his head again, looking resigned. “Because I brought friends with me.”

“That’s great,” I said warmly, grinning stupidly. Wait. “Who?”

“Not friends of yours,” he said bluntly.

“Oh no.” I took a step back.

“Yeah.” He sighed again.

“Not…Gentley? I can handle Gentley.”

“Not like this, Taryn. You can’t handle Gentley drunk.”

“I’m not drunk.” I argued drunkenly.

Whee.

“Is Grayley here?” I asked weakly.

“Yeah. He’s here too.” He didn’t sound happy about that either.

Then it clicked. I’m drunk. Gentley’s here. Grayley’s my best friend and Grayley’s supposedly friends with Gentley now.

Not good.

“Oh.” I mouthed the word. Fuck. I was in a shitload of trouble.

“Girl,” Trent held my shoulders and said seriously, “you need to get out of sight. Now.”

“I’m not one to run, Trent,” I replied. I wasn’t. Why should I run? This was my turf now, right?

“I know, but right now it’s what’s in your best interest,” he reasoned. Why did sober people always have to sound reasonable? Why couldn’t they be drunk like people like me? The universe would be a lot better off. Truly.

Madly.

Deeply.

I always liked that song. I have no idea who sang it.

“Trent, do you know who sang the song—” I was about to ask, but I blinked, finding myself face to face with Crispin Gentley, Tracy Hardkins and Kimberley Ringsworld right behind him, followed by three other football players from Pedlam, and a pale Grayley.

I decided to take the offense and opened my mouth to say the first words in my head, “Why are so many goddamn fucking Pedlam people coming to Rawley parties?”

“Oh my fucking word,” Kimberly spouted off. She really hated me. I’d heard once that she’d always had a crush on Brian. They’d gone on two dates and he’d dropped her because the next day I’d come back to Pedlam. That had been in eighth grade—she still hated me to this day because of it. Or at least…I think that’s why she hated me.

Tracy was smiling. She looked evil. “You were one of us not long ago, Taryn.”

“Oh no,” I said horrified, “I was never one of you! Trust me.”

Gentley chose that moment to interject, “Heard what you did to your ex. Nice. It was a good reminder why I never dated you.”

“That and the fact that you need to have a dick to date me. It’s one of my requirements.”

Whoa. That was a personal best.

Trent and a few of the other guys were desperately coughing, trying to cover up their laughs, turning away.

Gentley glared at me, full force, as he stalked closer. “Oh, Taryn. Trust me. I’ve got more than enough dick for you.”

I smiled sweetly. “Not really. I’ve seen pictures.”

That pissed him off. Even drunk, I took a step back in self-preservation.

“Maybe I should give you another view,” Gentley whispered, suddenly in my face. “Maybe you can get up close and personal to reconsider.”

That didn’t sound like a good thing to do.

Suddenly, Gentley was wrenched away. Grayley and Trent were both standing between us.

“She’s drunk, Crisp. Leave her alone,” Grayley was saying, pushing Gentley back another step.

“Are you kidding me?” Gentley laughed, more perplexed. “Are you and Gardner actually protecting that bitch?”

“It’s not right, dude,” Trent said. “Taryn’s not up to par. Anything less cheapens the triumph. We all know that.”

“Please,” Gentley scoffed, shoving both of them back. “Get off me, Gray. You’ve been in love with her since the eighth grade. But you, Gardner, I’m surprised.”

I narrowed my eyes. Grayley was not in love with me. No fucking way. I was about to say that too when I felt familiar hands grab my arm and pull me backwards.

Tray.

And Bryce. Then, blinking, I saw Devon, Carter, Grant, and about four other guys materialize out of nowhere.

“Out,” Tray ordered. “We don’t need a brawl right now.”

“Excuse me? What the fuck did you just say?”

“I said,” Tray said icily, “you can leave. Now.”

“Whatever, fucker, we all know it was you who messed up our field and gym,” Gentley growled.

Without another word, Tray stepped up and neatly clipped Gentley on the jaw. Crispin fell. Just like that.

Tray stepped in and kicked him. “This is my town and if you go against one of mine, you go against me. Now get the fuck out.”

Gentley shoved him back and stood up. “Taryn may have been one of your bitches in bed, but trust me—she’s just like any other slut.”

That was it.

The fucker was going down. Once and for all. Drunk or not, I could still talk and words were my second favorite weapon.

I shoved through the crowd and shot back, acid dripping from my voice, “Please. Crispin. How long are you going to hold this grudge against me? I rejected you in the ninth grade. Two. Fucking. Years. Ago. I’d figured that Kimberly had been comforting you. I mean, you and her got so much in common since both of you wanted to break Brian and me up.” I looked at Kimberly. “You’re more than welcome to him, now by the way. He’s probably at home since I landed him in the E.R. today. I’m sure he’s got to nurse those wounds.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

I blinked. More in surprise because it hadn’t come from Kimberly. Or Gentley.

It came from Grayley.

“Grayley…” I stammered.

“You don’t fucking think, Taryn!” he yelled. I could see his rage now. “Yeah. Big fucking deal. You beat Brian up. Guess what? He’s not going against you. He never would—he knows you can bury him. No, he’s going to go after me or Geezer or Kerri—or anyone else. Maybe even Jace. You ever think of that?”

I paled at his words. Fuck. He was right.

“You and Jace. Bri’s known about the two of you since it happened, he just never had proof. Now he does. All he needs is some courage from some fucking empty Jack Daniels bottle and he might actually go after his brother with a 9mm. How’d you like that? Would you just love it if I took you to Jace’s funeral? Or Brian’s funeral?”

“Grayley…” I tried.

“No,” he cut me off, “you just…you never fucking think.”

Suddenly, I was sober and was really looking at Grayley. It was plain as day, he was exhausted. Exhausted from fighting on three different sides—mine, Brian’s and Gentley’s.

“Grayley,” I murmured softly, “I’m—”

“You’re sorry. You’re always sorry, Taryn,” he cut off bitterly. “You’re so fucking sorry that you don’t ever think about what you do. I’m tired of worrying about you. God…what you do sometimes, Taryn. If you ever get caught, do you know what could happen to you? Where you could end up?”

“I stopped.”

“No,” Grayley shook his head, “you didn’t stop. My God, where were you just yesterday? You weren’t at the game. Where were you?”

I paled.

“Shut up,” I said quickly. “That was…”

“That was stupid. And suicidal. And you better fucking not ever do it again,” Grayley finished roughly.

I couldn’t say anything. He was right and we both knew it.

“Grayley,” Tracy spoke up, moving to stand beside him, curling one hand around his arm, “come on. We’re all leaving.”

I never would’ve thought those two would hook up.

That was the last stupid thought in my head when Grayley shot me one more exasperated glare, before he turned and followed everyone else who had left without us realizing.

Trent stayed in place.

“Hey,” he shrugged, “that chick invited me. I’m not leaving.” And he pushed through the crowd, in search of Sasha.

Looking up, I realized that a lot of people had stopped watching. When Grayley started in on me, the appeal had lessened. Grayley wasn’t as fun to watch as Gentley. Or Tray.

Glancing at the keg, I saw Tray was back to talking to the guys at the kegs.

His eyes met mine for a second.

Fun had departed when Pedlam had arrived.

Fuck that.

*

I’d found sanctuary in Tray’s bedroom. After searching the entire place, I’d realized that this was the only room that was off-limits. Everything else—trust me—they’d all been occupied. In some way or other. In some form of dress or another.

“You were supposed to rip Bryce a new one tonight.”

I didn’t look up from my spot in his bed.

Tray didn’t sound like he was about to jump me anyway.

“Oh yeah?” I said back without emotion.

The bed dipped under his weight as he sat beside me.

“Yeah,” he murmured, looking down at me, “but you knew about the bet, didn’t you?”

“I know,” I murmured half-heartedly.

“Which is why you let him think he was playing such a good game all night,” Tray mused.

“Look,” I breathed out, “I’m not really up for it right now. I’m only here because there’s nowhere else I can go where I’ll be left alone. And I can’t exactly drive yet.”

“You’re not driving regardless,” Tray said smoothly, lying beside me.

“I’m not drunk.”

“Oh yeah you are.” He laughed. “I counted every drink I gave you. You had seven shots and at least eight beers. You might not feel drunk, but you are.”

“Like you’d know,” I snapped. “I just got yelled at by my best friend.”

“Who was about to get the shit beat out of him,” Tray noted, dryly.

“Shut up. What do you know?”

“More than you. I’m sober.”

“Look. We’re not in a relationship and just because we’re screwing doesn’t mean you need to come and comfort me, you know,” I said crossly.

Tray laughed. “Oh, I’m not coming to comfort you.”

I looked at him, seeing his grinning face beside mine on the pillow. “What are you doing then?”

“I came in to warn you.”

Oh for the love…

“Warn me about…?” I let the question hang between us.

He grinned another moment and then delivered the news, “Mandy found Devon and Jasmine having sex.”

Oh fuck.

“Carter wanted me to find you. Mandy’s gone psycho,” he said bluntly.

I shoved off the bed and led the way. Outside, I could hear her screech over the music and crowd. I pushed through the circle that had formed and found Mandy, looking—psycho—with Devon and Jasmine, both of them half-dressed.

Oh. Fucking shit—they’d been screwing on the couch. In freaking plain eyesight.

Morons.

They deserved whatever Mandy dished out to them.

“You are such a slut!” Mandy shrieked. “I can’t believe I ever thought you were my friend!”

“Oh please,” Jasmine retorted. “All you give a damn about is your perfect life! It’s no wonder that Devon called me four times a week when y’all were together. He was practically begging me for it. You were so fucking frigid, you could have froze his dick off!”

Huh—I needed to remember that one.

“Oh please,” Mandy parroted furiously. “How much does it hurt, Jasmine? Knowing that you’re the girl the guys go to second. You’re just second class,” she finished scathingly.

Yep. Mandy needed no help here.

Carter shifted next to me. “Hey,” he said, “you going to stop this?”

“Are you kidding me?” I asked, confused. “This is great. I finally get to watch this stuff.”

“Mandy will not be happy that you let her go off like this. You know it, Taryn.”

Mandy continued, “That’s because all you really are is white-trash. You look like it, you smell like it, you sound like it, and you sure as hell—act like it. Just saying it how it is.”

I’d missed whatever Jasmine had said before.

This was good. Really good. Mandy needed to do this. Really. If anything, this would help Mandy get back to her old fighting, bitching—popular—social elite self.

I can’t believe I just thought that was a good thing.

“Really,” Jasmine said in a voice that dripped acid, “if anyone is white trash, it’d be you. I mean…you have the first rate poster child for it right in your own home.”

Now I interjected.

“You really want to go there?” I drawled, stepping into the circle, pinning Jasmine down with a glare.

She shut up.

“Go on,” I said smoothly, stepping back.

Mandy glared and opened her mouth, delivering another round of insults. I patted Carter on the shoulder and murmured, “She’s all yours.”

I moved back through the crowd and found Tray at the kegs—where else would he be?

He’d been watching me as I weaved through the crowd.

Most of the people had moved inside, more interested in catching the latest shake-down than waiting in line for more beer.

“Everything okay,” Tray stated. ,

“She’s good,” I murmured, moving closer.

“And you.”

“I’m good too.” And I was, probably because I wasn’t as drunk. I did not like being out of control or stupid. Not when so many people wanted to kick me while I’m down.

Tray was watching me evenly.

“You,” I stated.

“I’m always good.” He grinned arrogantly.

I wanted him.

Seeing it, his eyes widened a bit. It must’ve been blatant because he grabbed my hand and swept me into the pool-house.

Locking the main door, he locked the bedroom door.

Our mouths met and clung to each other. I raked my hands through his hair, groaning in frustration. I couldn’t get enough of him. Wrapping my arms around him, I felt him lift me and my legs wrapped around his waist. He turned and pressed me against the door.

I gasped, arching up against him as his lips trailed down my throat and neck.

Suddenly, we were on the bed and both of us were blindly pulling at our clothes. A second later, Tray was sliding in, pushing deep and I could only hold on. It was rough, deep, and the best sex I’ve ever had.