Page 53 of Bitter Lies

What the fuck just happened?

Collapsing on the bed, I roll into a ball and try to process my brother’s complete change in personality, not to mention his newfound drug abuse. When did this start, and how long has it been going on?

What do I do?

Chapter Fifteen

What is hope but a motherfucking lie fed to children too stupid to understand?

Griffin comes home in an exhilarated mood because I presume his team won. I wouldn’t know because I haven’t left my room since Max left in a rage earlier.

The bass music is pumping as half the football team celebrates, and I lie in my bed, exhausted. I don’t know what to do, and I’m worried for my brother because I’ve never seen him act this way.

Where is the rage coming from? Is it the drugs, or has it been bubbling below the surface all this time?

What did he mean about me? Is he really jealous? If so, of what?

I’m hardly blessed. Hell, I’m the one who was pushed aside while the golden boys partied through high school and lived their best life.

How can I possibly be the one? I mean, I was in a mental hospital, for fuck’s sake—sorry I ruined your damn mojo.

My thoughts are turned when a message comes through on my phone, and I’m reminded that I agreed to go to a party with Hogan. Frankly, I’m exhausted, and I can’t imagine trying to put on a game face when my thoughts are spiraling, which is why my fingers are hovering over the keys in anticipation of bowing out when moaning starts up on the other side of my wall.

And with a sour smile, I make arrangements for him to pick me up in an hour before changing into something more appropriate and doing my makeup in the small mirror over my bed, my purple locks shining around my face.

When Hogan messages me that he’s arrived, I close my bedroom door behind me and make a beeline for the door, uninterested in the party around me. But as I’m opening the door to step outside, I glance back to find Griffin walking toward the kitchen with a lazy grin on his face.

That damn grin makes my stomach clench, but when his eyes meet mine, the expression fades as he takes in my jeans and sweater, the boots on my feet, and my hair around my shoulders.

His eyes darken as I smile coldly, my final fuck-you to the dick before I close the door and stalk to Hogan’s car.

“Hey, you look pretty,” Hogan says with a smile as I slide into the passenger seat.

Returning his smile, I fasten my seat belt as he pulls away from the curb. “Thanks.”

“So, did you do anything for Halloween?”

I chuckle sourly, fighting off images of Jason tied to a bed while I assaulted him.

“Not really.”

I’m assuming this isn’t an appropriate topic of conversation on a date. Still, the words tremble on my tongue because holding the secrets close is choking me, and I’ve got a fuck ton of them.

“Man, there was a crazy party on frat row. I got so fucked-up,” he chuckles.

Smiling, I listen to him chatter until we reach the party and stare with chagrin at the house full of people, but this is what I want—to fit in—so I’m going to suck it the fuck up.

Hogan leads me through the masses before grabbing us drinks and taking my hand as he heads for another room.

Inside, people have gathered around in a pile of couches, facing each other in a circle, and I glance around with unease. Do I want to participate in a drinking game? Should I?

“C’mon,” Hogan says, squeezing into a space on the sofa and pulling me onto his lap.

“Yo, Hogan,” a guy across the way calls, rolling his eyes over me lewdly before turning back to his date.

Fucker.

Hogan nods, pressing his hand against my thigh. Fighting the urge to push him off, I take a deep drink of my beer and sigh. This is going to be a long fucking night—I can feel it already.

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