Page 183 of Burning Daylight
A low throb starts behind my eyes, the kind that comes with too many loose ends and nowhere to put them.
“What are you doing out here?”
I spin, my heartbeat kicking against my chest like a loaded gun. “Jesus, Frederick. Don’t sneak up on people like that.”
He doesn’t smile, doesn’t even so much as smirk. Instead, he cocks his head to the side, taking me in like he’s seeing me for the first time. “What are you doing out here, Roman?”
My mouth is dry, my tongue sticking to the roof like glue. “Needed some air,” I say, keeping my tone even. “Why? Is that not allowed?”
“Your father was asking for you back at the manor,” he replies. “Said he wasn’t feeling well.”
My stomach twists. “Is he okay?”
“He’s resting.”
I nod slowly, my throat spasming as I swallow. “Thanks for letting me know.”
“You seem on edge, everything all right?” he questions.
I shift my weight, trying not to let him see my jaw tighten. “Just nervous about what we’re planning to do.”
Voices filter from around the corner of the building, footsteps and half-drunk catcalls echoing off the edges of the campus’s brick, and then Merrick, Benjamin, and Rosalie show up. Merrick is drunk; it’s more than obvious. His bow tie is untied and lazily strung around his neck, and his hair is mussed up, his arm thrown around Rosalie’s shoulders as she drags him over to us.
Relief flows through me at them being here. Now I’m not alone with Frederick.
“Benny, come and get your friend,please,” she complains. “He’s deadweight and doesn’t know his limits.”
“I know my limits,” Merrick slurs. He rips his arm back from her and then stumbles toward us, almost tripping over his shoes.
“Fucking hell, Merrick, I told you not to drink so much,” Benjamin snaps at him, running a hand through his hair and stopping a few paces from us.
Merrick throws his hands out to his sides, spinning in a circle. “It’s a party, is it not?”
He stumbles and rights himself, running a hand over his face andgiggling. He looks at me and grins. “I’m drunk.”
I lift a brow, amused. “No shit.”
Frederick cuts Benjamin a harsh glare.
Benjamin swallows and breaks their stare. “Come on. With our luck, we’ll run into a goddamn Calloway out here, and it’ll turn into a fight.”
Merrick closes one eye like he’s trying to aim down the barrel of a gun and points at Benjamin. “Youare one of those guys who pretends he doesn’t want to fight but is always ready to have one.”
Benjamin scoffs, picking at invisible lint on his sleeve. “I am not.”
Rosalie laughs, and Benjamin tosses her a cutting look. “What?”
“You totally are,” she says. “Someone does the smallest thing and then you’re pissed, and if you’re mad, then you’re always the first one looking for a fight.”
He scowls but then shrugs like he’s accepting his flaws. “All the more reason for us to leave here and go back to our turf before something bad happens. I’m too valuable to stick around and get hurt. Right, Freddy?”
Frederick tilts his head, slipping his hands into his pockets. “You should leave.”
Merrick guffaws. “You’re an idiot.”
Benjamin quirks his brow. “Yet out of the two of us, I’m the only one standing straight and talking sense.”
More voices echo in the distance, and a group of people walks around the same corner in varying states of disarray.
