Page 129 of Fight or Flight
“Have you seen me drunk? Or have you seen me pretending I am because everyone else is?”
He furrows his brow like he’s thinking really hard about my question. “Is that part of your android thing? You run your drunk program to blend in with us humans when we’re having fun?”
I chuckle. “You could say that.”
“Why did you come to the party?”
“Because you invited me.”
“Because I told you about the girls?”
I meet his eyes. “No. Not because you told me about the girls.”
He swallows, his throat working and his Adam’s apple bobbing in a way that’s oddly captivating. “Did you come because of me?” he asks so quietly his voice is almost a whisper.
“Yes.” Picking up my drink, I take a sip, making sure to keep eye contact with him as I do.
He slowly drags his tongue over his lower lip, and I don’t miss the way he drops his gaze to my mouth when I lower my glass.
“Do you like knowing that?” I ask softly.
He nods, still staring at my mouth.
“Shane!”
He blinks and shakes his head, like he’s trying to shake himself free of some sort of spell, and glances at Paxton, who’s waving him over from across the room.
“I gotta go,” he mumbles, shooting me a quick look, then grabs his drink and scurries away.
I keep him in my sight as he and Paxton exchange a few words, then watch as the two of them slip out of the room.
Keeping some distance between us, I follow them down the hall and into the front room.
The space is dark with no overhead lights or lamps, only a few strings of fairy lights illuminating the room, and I keep to the shadows as they join a group of people in the far corner near the giant bay window.
More of that ugly, dark feeling from before curls out from deep in my body as I watch one of the girls in the group cozy up to Shane’s side and gaze up at him adoringly.
He smiles at her, but he doesn’t make a move to return her advances, and some of those ugly feelings settle when he takes a small step to the side and puts some distance between them when she tries to rub his stomach like he’s some sort of lap dog.
She takes the hint and doesn’t try to snuggle up to him again, and the last of those feelings disappear as I sip my drink and watch Shane.
He’s smiling and laughing and looks like he’s having a great time, but something’s off with him.
He’s unsteady on his feet, and I can tell it’s more than the drunk spins hitting when he starts swaying gently, like he’smoving with a current. His smile goes from big and fake to strained and small, and even the way he holds himself changes as his shoulders sag and his head falls forward, like he’s deflating in front of my eyes.
That’s more than just the alcohol hitting. He took something, and it kicked in.
Paxton leans over and says something to him. They exchange a few words, then Shane makes a vague gesture in the general direction of the door. Paxton nods, and Shane breaks away from the group, giving everyone a little wave when they turn to see what’s going on.
A few of them say something, but Shane just waves again and stumbles out of the room.
Keeping in the shadows, I follow him as he lurches down the hall, one hand on the wall like he needs it to stay upright. A few people call out to him, but he just gives them half-hearted waves and keeps moving toward the back of the house.
It takes him a painfully long time, but he drags himself to the back door and stumbles outside.
As soon as the door closes behind him, Mason and the three giant knuckleheads who act like his personal goon squad follow Shane through the door.
Putting my nearly empty cup on the closest table, I cut across the back room and slip outside after them.
