His hand reaches for the gold handle, but I shake my head. “No. I’ll go around.” It’s a full moon, so it wasn’t as dark as it otherwise usually would be. A bright glow bounces off the glass walls, which I quickly realize aren’t glass but mirrors. The music becomes louder as I take a left turn to the side of the house. There’s a large area of grass, but behind that is an abundance of trees. When I hit the final corner, I pause in my footsteps, taking in the scene.

Fuck me. It’s nothing like the parties I went to back home in Detroit. The lake is down below, with a long jetty that stretches out into a dark bed of water. In the far distance, you can see other lights from houses on the other side, but it is secluded enough to know that no one can see you.

Or hear you.

Goose bumps prickle the back of my neck as I shove my hands into my suit pockets. Fucking hate wearing this thing. It’s definitely something I will need to get used to. If ever.

Wu-Tang thumps through the speakers, and little lights hang above in the trees before leading toward the jetty. The yard spreads out wide enough to not seem so congested, but there aren’t that many people here. It’s clearly an invite-only party.

My eyes land on Poppy, who’s sitting on a lounge chair beneath a large tree, laughing at whatever that girl who is sitting beside her just said. I know who it is, Betty Peterson, a.k.a. Ruby’s BFF. The music isn’t loud, but there’s an air of uncertainty that hovers over the space. I still don’t know why Victor called this party, but I’m sure that by the end of it, we will all know.

“You know you’re painfully obvious…” she says from behind me. Clearly, she’s drunk. Her voice slow and dripping with liquor. She must come closer because I can feel the heat of her body on my back. I keep my eyes on Poppy. Sure, I’d jump in front of a bullet for the brat behind me, but my sister is still my priority. “How does it feel to not have control of me here?” She’s drunk. Too drunk.

I follow her slow movements as she rounds the front of me, taking the step down and looking up at me from a bent head. On any other occasion, I’d fuck the stupid out of her, but right now, she’s just pissing me off.

Her swollen lips wrap around the top of the bottle, and I watch as she tilts her head back and swallows.

Without unlocking my eyes from her, I reach for the frosted glass of Grey Goose, removing it from her hands.

“Hey!” she whines, reaching for it.