Page 16 of Sawyer

Awareness trickles up and down my spine. Impossible.

I’m a gamma. We rarely get packs, matches, or even bonds.

“You do,” he states. “Good. Now wear the red lace, and, Sawyer…” He pulls away, his blue eyes shining down at me as he steps back.

“Rumor,” I say, somehow keeping my voice from shaking.

“I really don’t want to kill anyone tonight.”

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” Eyes wide, I argue, “You were the one who brought me here. You looked into my past. You knew Tomi would make me dance.”

“Maybe…” He pauses, rolling his eyes over me. “I’m a selfish bastard who just wanted to see you dance.” With that, he turns around and marches out of the dressing room.

What the hell?

Heart thundering in my chest, I glance at the clock. I have a half hour before my set. That’s enough time to get my heart rate under control and snoop through Cherry’s shit.

“He’s crazy,” I mutter while sinking to the floor. Rumor looked through her drawers, the first place anyone would go to steal something. Instead, I crawl along the floor and push the station to the side, where the wardrobe rack slides into a small crevice. There, I slide my hand along the seam, checking for anything.

Paper slices the tip of my finger, and I grab it and pull it out. Glancing around, I fold it until it slides into my coat pocket.

With nothing else to do and no more time to stall, I grab the hanger Rumor picked out.

He’s a mystery. A sexy, intriguing mystery.

He’s also right—red is my color.

Sin

Haze.

With my head light and my body free of anguished tension, I slump back in the stained seat. My legs twist and drop beneath me, unable to hold me up for at least a little while. They can’t carry the weight that threatens to suffocate me.

“Sin.” Snaps crack before my eyes, causing them to open and focus on the thick fingers that blur in front of my face.

When did I shut them?

“So pretty.” I reach out and slap the bright fireworks sparking before my eyes. “So free. Uncaring of their fire. Fire.”

“Fuck.”

“Hey, do I know you?” I focus on that voice, the one that called my name.

Wait. Is my name fuck or Sin? I suppose it’s one and the same.

My eyes close, and my head droops. Tension strains the back of my neck as my chin drops to my chest. The stretch feels good. Tendons pull, and muscles loosen. Finally.

“Damn it, Sin.” That voice. Angry, angry boy. “How much did you take?”

“Clouds and storms and hurricanes,” I murmur, my eyelids heavy. “Blunder through the thunder.”

Warm hands grip my face, shaking my head. “What did you take, man?”

“Rude.” I lick my dry lips—a side effect of the elixir I took.

“I suspect he took this.” Glass clatters on the table in front of me.

This time, I open my eyes. Blinking several times, I focus on the little vial that spins around and around. It’s empty. I took all the precious contents only moments ago. I think.

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