Page 153 of Feed Your Fiends

Elle

Girls.

Girls bundled up in coats are trickling into the lobby, but I’d know those dragonfly lacey stockings anywhere. And I know what’s beneath those coats, sparkly green corsets like the one I’m still wearing.

I thought the auditions were for the back-to-black event. It hadn’t occurred to me that Hale would also need waitresses tonight. I slip into the lobby behind the girls and follow them into the lift with a security guard, and no one pays me any attention besides a few polite smiles amongst new coworkers.

The blonde requirement doesn’t seem to be in effect tonight, though, as I squeeze behind a girl with a massive curly Afro, and another with pin-straight black hair that falls to her ass crack.

When we enter the warm foyer, everyone strips out of their coats before we’re ushered into the kitchen. Tray after tray lines the island with pyramids of chocolate truffle balls, shot glasses of golden liquor, and appetisers. But as the chef spins around to add more ultra-thin slices of fancy cheeses to a nearby tray, I also spin around and hide behind a leggy girl with braids.

Fuck.Zedd.

But how long could I hide with flaming red hair when I couldn’t spot another ginger anywhere and without my hooded coat, I’d be fucked in no time.

Where the hell is Hale? I only have a few seconds to pull him aside, but would he even believe me? That his best friend and father, people he’s known since childhood, want to kill him? And would he believe it from the girl who just walked away from said people with a duffel bag full of cash and a scathing article meant to ruin and humiliate them? Would he just think I was trying to win him over in some bizarre twist?

Either way, I have to try. He’d tried for me.

Why?

“Start with the drinks first,” Zedd says, motioning to the trays. “The silver platters only.”

I grab a tray with a small pyramid of golden shots and duck my head behind it as I prop it up onto my shoulder.

The massive living room is filled with far more people than I’d somehow expected for a private event in Gant’s home. The party-goers grabbing shots off my tray don’t spare me a glance, but I’m looking intently at each face.

Aria’s mother and who I suppose is her stepfather. Alistair Beaumont and a blonde whom I assume to be Stassi’s mother. Stassi’s mother is not what I expected. For all of her body shaming, I’d envisioned a rail-thin blonde, but Stassi’s mother can’t be less than a hundred kilos. Stassi is nestled between her parents, boredly sipping on a martini glass as her parents talk stiffly to a South Asian couple.

I switch my tray to my other shoulder as I switch directions, creep along the perimeter, past some drop-dead gorgeous diamond displays, and slide beside the Beaumonts.

“Stas,” I whisper, and she jumps.

“El—” Her amber eyes widen.

I shake my head furiously, and she catches on quickly, quieting.

“What are you doing here?”

“I’ll fill you in later. Have you seen Hale?”

Her concerned look turns dismissive. “Who?”

“Stas,” I whisper, my chest tightening. “ I need to talk to him.Now.It’s life or death important. Seriously, have you seen him?”

Her eyebrows knit, her lips parting. “Life or death?”

“Have you?” I insist, and she quickly shakes her head, finally feeling the gravity of my words.

“No. I just got here. I haven’t even seen Gant or Bart yet.”

My throat tightens at their names. “Rie said he left the club hours ago to help set up, and his staff are here.” I peer around the room again to no avail. “He has to be here, too.”

“Maybe he’s…” she trails, nodding over my shoulder. “Somewhere in a bedroom with one of the girls.” She says it evenly, but I know the thought is eating her alive.

“He’s working an event, I doubt…” but then I remember the stoned Hale from just hours before, and this is a party, and he’d been in party mode. Maybe he’d crashed from his high. Maybe he was doing as Stassi said and banging someone right here and now. Or maybe he’s just lying still somewhere, completely unresponsive… “Well, if you see him, tell him we need to talk. It’s an emergency.”

It can’t be too late, right? But what exactly would be too late? It’s not like Bart Aucalir is going to kill Hale in front of everyone, right?

---