Page 31 of Fall onto me
The papers that I’m sliding back into the glove compartment don’t seem to be connected to the Hollingsworth’s, but I’m thinking the common denominator of it all is going to be my father.
* * *
“Holy shit,”I croak as we squeeze pass the rows of cars in Warren’s driveway.
Foster nods. “I guess when they wanted to throw a party, they really meant a party.”
Every inch of concrete and grass is double parked, and people are everywhere. Lining the driveway, spilling from the front door, and when we step inside it’s like a club. Lights are buzzing, music blasting, and fog machines smother everything in their smokey path.
Brett, Warren, Kate, and Ryder are in the center of it all. “This is insane!” I hug them each.
“Needed to loosen up this one’s nerves.” Warren grins, pointing a finger at Brett. “What do you want to drink?”
I relive my hangover for only a split second before I decide, “Nothing.”
Foster places his hand on the small of my back. “Really?”
I nod. “Really. You drink, I’ll have fun either way.”
“Beer is good,” he tells him.
We all slink through the crowd into the dining room with our drinks, mine being a glass of juice. Callum and Alea are standing over the long, mahogany dining table that Brett’s mom custom ordered from France. They’re trying to find anyone to play beer pong with on the expensive piece. If she ever finds out, she’s going to kill us all.
I push my arm through my boyfriend’s. “I call Foster!”
“But you’re not drinking,” Ryder whines.
Foster throws him a look. “Doesn’t matter.” Then he slings his arm around me. “I’ll drink for you.”
“You ready to lose?” I challenge Callum, and Alea laughs when he holds up a fist.
I toss the first ball and miss. Our saving grace is the fact that Foster basically lives in a frat house apart from the lack of cheesy mottos and hazing. They’re just a family, but they party … constantly.
Alea is surprisingly good, and they come close … but don’t win.
The good part about winning is that we get to throw it in our friends’ faces with cheesy handshakes and high fives. The bad side is with every ball that goes into a cup, Foster drinks for both of us and now he’s pretty tipsy.
Foster cranes his neck down and whispers in my ear, “I have to get it.”
Those words, that tone, reminds me why we’re here. To do a job. I don’t know how I allowed myself to get distracted when Foster hasn’t at all. He’s only drinking to take away the guilt.
“Who’s next?” I shout, with a nervous laugh. “Girls vs boys?” I suggest, hauling Alea over to my side.
“I call Foster.” Callum decides, but he shakes his head. “Going for a smoke.
Callum gives him a thumbs down gesture. “One day those things are going to kill you.”
“Counting on it,” he replies, then disappears down the hall.
I don’t know how he does it, but I know it kills him inside. Taking orders from some coward behind a chair, knowing that if he denies it, everyone he loves will be in danger by another member of TK’s intel. Paperwork seems innocent enough, but there’s a reason behind everything.
Ryder and another one of their friends stand on the other side and racks cups while me, Alea, and Kate follow suit.
I don’t pay attention to much, not even when I make it into the cup for the first time all night. With Foster gone, it’s blindingly clear why we’re here tonight. It isn’t to celebrate with friends, one of the last few big college parties we’ll ever experience.
When Foster returns, I wrap my arms around his neck and hug him a little tighter than usual. “You okay?” I whisper.
He nods and shrugs away from me a little bit. The anger isn’t directed towards me, but damn does it hurt.