I didn’t sign, but her mom only smiled my way, so I assume she knows my mom would lawyer her ass if she even thought to ask me for my signature.

The movie is a good forty minutes in, Jules is trashed, Dax disappeared twenty minutes ago, and Cali is engrossed in her phone. Scott has passed out beside me and I’m more than ready to get out of here, so when Beretta texts to say he ‘needs’ to pick me up, I say okay.

I step onto the balcony, my eyes on the street ahead.

Mere minutes pass when headlights come around the corner, and an unexpected sigh escapes.

A mocking laugh fills the air behind me, and I spin, squinting.

Amy slips from the dark corner of the patio, a nasty grin on her face.

“You’re really enjoying yourself, aren’t you?” She laughs again. “Being their whore, keeping your secret? Or should I say... secrets.”

My shoulder blades tighten, but I keep my expression blank as I turn to face her, the roar of the engine now at my back.

She eyes me a long moment, her head tilting to the side as a smile spreads along her lips.

“What do you want, Amy?”

“I’m trying to figure out if you really are as clueless as you seem, because, if so, that’s just... tragic.”

My fists clench, but I hide them behind my back. “I can ask if you can join in, if that’s why you care, or why you watch them from across the room every chance you get. Waiting to be seen, are we?”

“Oh, honey.” Her smile surprises me, but I don’t show it. “I’ve been seen, and clearly you’ve had them.”

This time, my eyes narrow. “Clearly I have.”

She damn near giggles, creeping closer.

“But have you had him alone?” She blocks the doorway, her head tipped to the side, her tone low and illicit. “Do you know what makes him tick, what he likes... how he likes it?” Another laugh, and then a whispered, “No, I don’t think you do.”

She steps around me, spreads her hands out on the beam in front of her, staring down at the two boys waiting for me just below. “Have fun, Jameson.” Her eyes cut over her shoulder, locking onto mine. “I can’t wait to watch this blow up in your face. And it will.”

I frown at her, but she doesn’t see it.

She’s stuck on the little sports car below.

Her words spin in my head as I slip out the front door and make my way to the curb, where Beretta stands beside the open door.

“Hurry, he’s going to need us,” he says, jerking his head for me to climb in the back.

I do, but don’t bother asking where he is.

All I know is ‘he’... isn’t here.