"Hi, I'm Lacey." The new girl introduced herself before drawing out her next sentence in a honeyed voice "I haven't seen you at one of Chase's parties before."

Lacey carried herself with confidence and glamour. Her small periwinkle coloured dress was tight against her curves and showed off her long legs. Her hair was styled into long blonde curls and her lips were painted a dark blue colour.

I quickly looked up at Stone to see what his reaction was to her.

He had not even acknowledged her. He continued to keep his firm gaze down on me.

The beautiful blonde girl was not discouraged by the silence because she continued speaking to the well-built man.

I tuned out of the one-sided conversation and turned to face Lana and Brennan.

Brennan had dropped his arm from Lana. His flexing hands were by his side. His attention was directed upwards at the ceiling as the tendons in his neck looked ready to snap.

I neared Lana and put my mouth up to ear so that she could hear me over the music "I’m going to get a drink."

I turned on my foot before she could say anything.

A large hand caught my wrist and tugged me gently back as I took a step away.

Stone kept his touch on me. He squeezed my hand carefully like he was trying hard to keep me in his embrace but also trying not to hurt me.

I looked down at where my skin had grown goosebumps from his touch and then I peered up at him.

"Stay, Medusa." He rasped out, his dark eyes on me as the half-plead half-demand left his mouth.

Watching a girl flirt her way into his mind was not on my list of things I would like to see. Leaving and not standing like the odd one out was at the top of that figurative list.

Nothing came to mind that I could reply. I could not muster up any words, so I pulled myself out of his grip and walked towards the kitchen.

Chase and his friends were taking shots when I arrived. They were all huddled around the island counter and cheering as they downed the full glasses of alcohol.

The smell of whisky hit me, and it lingered in my nose as I took a step closer. The smell was a reminder of my father and how he drank the whisky to forget about me and the memory of my mother.

I was reminded that I had nobody to go home to. I was reminded that nobody cared.

I sauntered past the group of people towards the counter full of drinks. I picked up a bottle with my shaky hand and turned the lid with a quick sudden movement.

Twenty minutes later and I was perched on the marble counter and entertaining myself in a drinking game.