Page 23 of Maddox
“What’s that?”
Shaking her head, her mouth folds into a grimace before she finally mutters, “Prison.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask again what that means, when she rolls through a gate, with a fence covered in razor wire and I glance at her sideways.
Are we at the compound? Fuck me. Am I about to party withbikers?
Note that down as something I never thought I would do. Of course, I never thought I’d be hanging out with Draven and yet here we are.
Before us is a squat concrete building with another fence around it. Lights blaze to the left and beyond are nothing but trees and dark sky.
After parking the vehicle, she stares at me a beat too long until I say, “What?”
Crinkling her nose, she says, “Try not to do anything stupid and remind them that you don’t belong.”
“I mean, I kind of don’t…right?” Not too long ago, I was a preppy princess with a football boyfriend and crew of stuck-up friends.
Now I’m about to party with people I wouldn’t have been caught dead with before. Trying to blend in is laughable.
If even one of the people I’m about to meet knows me, then my cover will be blown right out of the gate.
Draven’s grunt does not answer the question, but I guess the subject is closed because she throws open her door.
Cautiously I follow, not sure what to expect when instead of heading toward the music, we go around the opposite side of the building and enter the trees.
There’s not much light and after a creepy as fuck walk through the darkness past the building we emerge in a clearing.
I’m not ashamed to admit that I have a healthy fear of the dark, so I’m relieved when Draven stalks toward the fire.
She approaches some guy, with dreadlocks down to his ass and rings through his nose. He picks her up and gives her a sloppy kiss before breaking away to say, “Who’s this?”
“Delaney,” she says, tossing her hair over her shoulder.
“Hey,” I say with a wave before gingerly sitting on a log by the fire.
I feel the weight of all the curious stares and suppress the urge to squirm.
The guy to my right hands me a beer and I wrap my fingers around the icy can as someone turns on the music.
The harsh beat pulses in my head and I sip my drink while a couple goes at it on the log to my left.
This isn’t exactly what I had in mind when she said party and now, I’m regretting coming.
Especially because with the cool November temperatures, it’s not exactly the right climate to be partying outside, despite the fire.
Hunching into my jacket, I trade the beer between my icy fingers and look up when someone emerges from the trees.
Whoa. What is Josh doinghere?
Bewildered, I glance around but no one else looks surprised that a Bay River football player just crashed the MC party.
He slows when he spots me before his lips curve into a cute smile and he sits down.
Although I’m confused, I’m also relieved and raising my beer in a toast, I say, “Josh!”
“Hey,” he says, his eyes lighting up.
Oops. My relief at not being alone with these kids is bound to get me into trouble and attempting to turn the tide, I ask, “What are you doing here?”
