Page 3 of Twisted Fate

You don’t buy beer; you rent it, my mom always says.

“Upstairs.” A deep, newly familiar voice catches my attention, and I glance toward the sound to find Grant grinning at me.

I smile in greeting and arch a brow at him. “Excuse me?”

He tips his head back against the wall, the hair in front of his face falling away. “The bathroom. It’s upstairs.” He points to a set of stairs a few feet away.

“Oh,” I mumble. “Thanks.”

He nods. “I’ll be honest, I didn’t think you’d come. I figured you’d crash after class earlier.”

“It’s not my fault Professor Boring talks so low. It’s a miracle anyone could hear him.” Grant laughs before I continue. “And don’t get me started on his PowerPoints.”

He whistles. “Those are some harsh words, but I have to agree. I offered to work on them for him, but the guy wouldn’t let me. Being a TA only means so much, I guess.” He laughs again. “I won’t keep you here talking. I’ll see you around, Aurora.” He touches my shoulder briefly and offers a smile. The butterflies in my stomach give a healthy flutter. Grant’s attention is rather nice.

My head spins as I jog up the stairs, having to grab the railing a couple of times to keep my balance, and almost get lost trying to find the damn bathroom. This house has way too many hallways and doors. That, and I’ve had a few too many beers—an annoying reminder I’m a lightweight.

Groaning when I round another corner and see the line, I make my way to the back of it and pull my phone out. I scroll through Twitter, my most recent social media addiction, until the line moves and it’s my turn. I’m quick and hurry out of the bathroom, knowing how many people are still waiting.

Trying to retrace my steps is more difficult than it should be. Turned around, I end up in an empty hallway. The skin on the back of my neck tingles, making me pause. I debate calling Allison or Oliver to come find me when a door opens, sending me stumbling back, clutching my chest as a guy steps into the hallway.

“My bad,” he says, sounding unapologetic. He runs a hand through his short, dark brown hair, and his gaze holds mine as his eyes narrow. He inhales slowly. “Well, it’s my lucky night. Looks like I’m going to be able to wrap this up in a jiffy.” He tugs on the lapels of his jacket as if to straighten them and then claps his hands together.

My brows inch closer. “Do I know you?”

“I’m Max.” He smirks, his teeth straight and white—too perfect. “You don’t know me, but I know you.”

I shake my head, sobering up a bit, and peek around the empty hallway.Where the hell is everyone?I can hear voices shouting over the music downstairs, but there’s not a person in sight. “I don’t think so.” Hold on. Those eyes...This is the guy I ran into on my way home from class.

He presses his lips together and exhales through his nose as if he’s trying to calm himself.

My gut tells me I need to get out of here.Now.

“I should get back to the party,” I say in a forced, level tone. “My friends are waiting for me.”

He tilts his head to the side, and the curve of his lips turns my stomach as I shift the weight between my feet. His eyes follow me closely, as if each move I make is intriguing.

I take a step back in the same moment he steps forward. “What are you doing?” My voice cracks, as tightness clamps down on my chest.

He chuckles. “You,” he pauses, “are in a lot of trouble, blondie.” His hand shoots forward, pressing flat against my chest, and my skin tingles under my shirt.

I should scream. I should slap his hand away and bolt. I should do a lot of things, but everything happens so fast. Black dots swim across my vision, and my ears ring over the pounding of my heart. Then my legs give out, and I collapse onto the hardwood floor.

Opening my eyes for what feels like the first time in days, I squint at a chandelier hanging from the ceiling. I blink until I can see clearly, and the sharp, heavy sound of metal chains startles me when I try to move. I take a deep breath to keep myself from panicking. It doesn’t do much good. My hands are bound and attached to the chair I’m in. Cursing under my breath, I tug on them, but the cold chains bite into my skin; I wince before letting them go slack. I sniff a few times. I can’t have been here too long, considering I don’t smell particularly bad.

Am I still at the house where the party was held?The room looks more like a luxury hotel suite. It even has a fireplace surrounded by a seating area. But one thing’s missing: a window. If this placeisa hotel, I doubt they have guests staying in this room.

The door swings open, and my entire body goes rigid. It’s the guy from the party—Max. Being stuck in a sitting position isn’t ideal when I want to kick his ass. He swaggers into the room, with his hair messily framing his face as if he hasn’t brushed it in a while.

“You’re awake,” he says with a menacing smile, and I fear the worst. Did he spike my drink at the party? Would I know if I were drugged? Oh god...Did he touch me?

“Observant. Well done,” I shoot back, my hands clenching into fists.Don’t show him weakness,I chant to myself as my fists shake.

“You’ve got a mouth on you, blondie.” He walks closer, leaving the door open as he pulls on heavy gloves. He yanks the chains off the chair and forces me into a standing position, leaving my arms chained together.

I glance past him, but all there is to see beyond the doorway is a long, dimly lit hallway. “Who are you? Where am I? Why did you bring me here?”

Max rolls his eyes. “You ask a lot of questions.”

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