Page 45 of Liars

“I am. I’m just not into drunk jocks.”

We passed the bottle back and forth in silence, the warmth of the alcohol slowly dulling the edges of my anxiety. Maddox leaned against the back of the couch, watching me with an intensity that made me squirm.

“What’s your deal, anyway?” he asked suddenly, his fingers capturing a lock of my hair.

How were his arms so long? They stretched across the back of the couch easily, and the space I tried to keep between us seemed pointless now. I shrugged, staring down at the swirling liquid in the bottle. “What’s yours? Are you really in the mafia?”

Maddox laughed, a sound that was equal parts amusement and disbelief. “The mafia? Where do you come up with this stuff?”

“So, you’re not part of some Raven Crew?” I pushed, wishing I had turned a lamp on. An air of wickedness hovered in the air as I sat in the dark with him.

He shook his head. “One day at school and you think you know anything about me.”

The silence stretched again, heavier this time. I shifted uncomfortably under his gaze as he tightened the twine of my hair around his finger to the point of almost pain.

“I knowI probably shouldn’t be alone with you,” I said, taking the bottle from him.

“Smart,” Maddox said, quieter now. “And yet here we are.”

Tipping the glass neck back, I pulled the whiskey in and swallowed. “You’re not going to get in trouble by the big bad older brother for talking to me?”

The corner of his lips twitched in a way that reminded me scarily of Mason. “I’m assuming you’re referring to Kreed? He’s kind of like the wolf fromRed Riding Hood.”

I didn’t mean to smile. My lips turned up on their own.

For a moment, an emotion I didn’t want to see flickered across Maddox’s face—sympathy, maybe, or regret. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by his usual smug grin. “You have a killer smile, menace.” His fingers released my hair as he shook his head. “Trouble. You are trouble. And I’m going to take my ass to bed before I do something stupid.” He lifted the half-empty bottle of whiskey out of my hand. “I’ll be taking this with me. You’ve had enough.”

I snorted. “How would you know what I can and can’t handle?” Snatching the liquor back, I took a long, healthy drink, more than I should have, and it went straight to my head.

Maddox chuckled. “You’re going to regret that tomorrow.”

“Probably. But life is full of regrets.”

“Just don’t expect any favors,” he said, finishing off the last of the whiskey and setting the empty bottle on the table. “You’re on your own, menace.”

With that, he pushed off the couch and disappeared into the shadows, leaving me alone in the dark room, the taste of whiskey still burning on my tongue.

I didn’t move off the couch, just sitting there with the shadows, staring. The blackness stretching around the room seemed to be closing in on me, and the panicking feeling I’d been trying to escape returned twofold. I couldn’t fucking breathe.

I swore I could see a man wearing a mask in the corner. Like he’d come back to finish the job.

It was too damn dark in here, and the pressure bearing down on my chest made me feel like I was drowning. Perhaps I should try sleeping with the light on, like I’d done as a kid. Then my mind wouldn’t associate the darkness with that night.

After I flipped on the side table lamp, a soft glow chased away some of the shadows. Not all of them, but enough for the air to start moving freely in my lungs again…to see there wasn’t anyone hovering in the corner. Just my imagination playing tricks on me.

I’d drunk too much with Maddox.

That was where I’d gone wrong, trying to hang with someone like him.

Bad, bad move.

What was it about these boys that brought out the worst in me? They had this ability to corrupt me.

I didn’t remember falling asleep.

One moment, I was staring at the empty whiskey bottle Maddox left behind, my thoughts heavy and my body heavier, and the next, I was adrift in a restless haze. The darkness wrapped around me, but it wasn’t peaceful. It was strangling. Memories clawed at my mind—flashes of rain, gunshots, and the sound of my own scream.

The world was shaking. The ground trembling. An earthquake? Elmwood wasn’t prone to them, but we’d been known over the last few decades to get the occasional shifting of tectonic plates underground.

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