Page 37 of Illicit

Boyd is right. She has lost her mind. The shit that could’ve happened to her tonight is not good. She’s lucky she’s standing here in one piece.

And that pisses me off.

But I don’t have a chance to tell her any of that. The dried tears on her face aren’t dry anymore when her expression screws up, and she comes straight for me.

She faceplants in my chest. Her arms wrap around my waist, and she holds tight as she cries, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Thank you for coming for me.”

I want to shake her and tell her how stupid she is, but I don’t.

I can’t.

If this were Sammie, I’d do that in a nanosecond.

But this is Teagan.

I wrap my arms around her and tip my face to the side of hers that’s planted in my chest. “Let me get you out of here.”

She nods against the old T-shirt I threw on when I got the call that woke me out of a dead sleep. When she looks up at me, her eyes are bloodshot, and her expression is a mix between terrified and relieved.

I hardly recognize her, and I don’t fucking like it.

She says nothing but nods.

I keep her tucked under my arm and move for the door. The last place on earth Teagan Coleman belongs is the Orleans Parish Jail.

Teagan

The bond for life, my ass.

Sorority sisters. I’m done with them. They swore the drive across the state line wasn’t a big deal because they knew of a bar that would let us in no matter how bad our fake IDs were.

And mine is bad. So bad, this is only the second time I’ve had the nerve to try it. I was basically laughed at and sent on my way in my small college town the only other time I had the nerve to use it.

But they were right. We got in, but it had nothing to do with my fake ID. The bouncer barely glanced at it. He was too busy leering at me from top to bottom.

We had drinks. We were hit on. We danced. The bar was a dive and the whole place smelled. But once I had a few drinks, I didn’t care.

Things were fine … until they weren’t.

A good time and a warm buzz turned south in a heartbeat. The two sisters who pulled me into a new social scene I’m not used to over the last few months were on the dance floor with two guys. I was feeling light-headed and stayed back to hold the table.

That’s when the fight broke out.

The moment the cops hit the door, everything turned to chaos.

I was in cuffs and my sorority sisters were nowhere in sight.

I’m on thin ice with my parents as it is for my grades. If they find out about tonight, they’ll drag me back to Miami without a second thought.

My phone vibrates constantly on the vanity as I squeeze the water from my hair. Texts roll in from my so-called friends asking where I am and if I’m okay.

They didn’t give a shit about me when they were doing everything they could to save their own asses.

Well, they can sit and wonder where I am until tomorrow. They weren’t handcuffed, thrown in the back of a sticky police car, and held in a cell for over two hours.

My buzz burned off somewhere between worrying about what was so sticky on the bench of the cop car and wondering when I’d get to the fingerprinting and horrible picture part of the night.

But that never happened. The moment I heard Rocco’s voice after I was given one phone call, I knew he’d come for me.

---