Page 19 of Shattered Hate

“Who the hell would invite you?”

“Me. Now fuck off.” Cope’s voice cuts through the tension from behind him, making Jamie whirl around.

“Why would you invite him here, Cope?” Jamie’s voice is laced with an icy edge, his eyes locked on Cope, though a flicker of fear betrays him.

“Because I can. Got a problem with that?”

“Leave it, Cope. I’m heading off,” I say, standing up again. This time, Jamie retreats, making a show of sniffing the air.

“Still reeks,” he mutters under his breath.

“What the hell did you just say?” Cope steps toward Jamie, towering over him, his presence menacing.

“Whoa, whoa. Killer, take it easy.” Trayton appears out of nowhere, brushing my arm as he tries to reach Cope. I step aside as he pulls Cope back.

“What did you say to my boy to get him riled up like that?” Trayton’s eyes narrow at Jamie.

“Say it again, I dare you,” Cope seethes, his voice a low growl.

“N-nothing,” Jamie stammers, his face paling as he frowns up at Cope. He sidesteps, walking away, but not before shooting me a death glare that could bury me six feet under.

The last thing I need is to be back on Jamie’s radar.

“How about a game of truth or dare to lighten the mood?” Some annoying girl singsongs, standing on the couch next to me with two bottles of vodka in her hands, clearly three sheets to the wind.

Truth or dare? What are we —ten? I’m definitely out of here.

“Sit,” Cope growls through gritted teeth, clamping his hand on my shoulder and shoving me back onto the couch. I glance up at him, but his eyes are locked on Jamie, who has slinked to the other side of the room, chatting with his friend.

“I’m not playing truth or dare, Cope.” I sigh, exasperated.

“Humor me,” Cope says, a smile tugging at his lips as he sits down in the now-vacant spot next to me.

My eyes follow the girl with the vodka bottles as she stands in the center of the room, spinning around as if searching for something. She strides over to a large glass bowl, empties the vodka into it, and then places the now-empty bottle in the middle of the floor.

“We’re not boring, guys,” she drawls. “Make it juicy.” She winks, prompting a few guys to catcall, and one even goes over to the stereo to turn down the volume.

“Gabby, you spin first,” she says, her voice trembling with excitement as she bounces on her bare feet, clapping her hands like a child on Christmas Morning. Gabby spins the bottle, and it lands on some dude I don’t know.

“Joe, truth or dare?” Gabby asks, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Dare, obviously.” The guy winks confidently.

“I dare you to get your ass over here and slap a kiss right here.” She points to her lips and with what I’m guessing is supposed to be a seductive smirk.

“Yes, ma’am,” the guy, Joe, says instantly, up on his feet in seconds. After they literally eat each other’s mouths, another girl spins the bottle, and it lands on a girl this time. She picks truth, and I watch as the other girl asks her something that clearly makes her uncomfortable. I have no idea what they’re saying because I’ve completely tuned them out. Suddenly, Cope’s laughter snaps me back to reality. Trayton is sitting next to him, whispering something in his ear, and both guys are watching the two girls make out across the room. I scan around and see that most of the guys are doing the same thing, like a pack of dogs drooling over watching their prey. I roll my eyes and shuffle to the edge of the couch so I can try to make my getaway before Cope realizes.

But just as I go to stand up, a girl’s voice breaks through my thoughts.

“Daxton, isn’t it?” she says across from me, sitting on the floor, with her legs crossed.

I frown before answering with a hesitant, “Uh, yeah.”

“Truth or dare?” she asks, her eyes glinting mischievously.

“What?” I furrow my brows in confusion, then look down at the bottle on the floor, pointing directly at me.

“Truth. Or. Dare,” she says, speaking as if I’m a small child who needs things spelled out for them.

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