Tell Me Pretty Lies(29)

“You better not bleed on my seat,” I mutter. Technically, it’s my mom’s old car, but she drives my grandmother’s car now, so I use this one when I need to. It’s not flashy. A little white Nissan that gets me from point A to point B. But that’s all I need.

I don’t expect him to actually pass out in the short five-minute drive to his property, but when I pull up to his open gate and reach over to shake his shoulder, he mumbles something intelligible before promptly falling back asleep.

“Great.”

I follow the long, winding driveway that leads to the house, dread creeping in when I notice all the cars lining both sides. Dozens of them. Daddy Dearest must be out of town. That’s the only time the boys decide to throw a party. Not that it’s exactly a rare occasion—he’s gone more often than not, staying at his apartment in the city most nights—and he doesn’t give a shit, so long as they clean up their mess. I follow the road up to the circular driveway and around the old brick water fountain surrounded by wildflowers that sits in the center, then throw my car into park.

“We’re here,” I say, shaking his shoulder. He doesn’t budge. “Holden!” I snap. “Wake. Up.”

He finally rouses, looking over at me as if he has no idea how he got here.

“You’re home,” I say, gesturing toward the front door. He scans his surroundings, taking in the clusters of people drinking on the steps and scattered across the lawn.

“Thanks, little sister,” he slurs, reaching for the handle. He falls out of the car, landing on the pavement, and a groan follows.

Dammit. I throw my door open and hurry over to help him up. All two hundred pounds of drunk, sweaty, dead weight. I wrap one arm around his waist while his goes around my shoulders. I hold his arm in place, walking him toward the front door.

Some girl bites down on her lip when she sees us approach, giving a little wave. “Hey, Holden.”

Is she kidding? Does she not realize he’s barely conscious?

“Make yourself useful and open the door. You can try again tomorrow when he’s not comatose.”

She blinks twice before quickly opening the front door and holding it for us. “Is he okay?” she calls out after us. I don’t bother responding.

“Hot Girl Bummer” blasts from the sound system, and there are people drinking, dancing, and making out in every corner. “You owe me for this,” I mutter under my breath, ignoring the curious eyes, and head straight for the stairs. Holden holds his own weight surprisingly well all the way up. When we get to the top, I cast a glance toward the black door that leads to Thayer’s room, the one right across from where I used to sleep, and it’s just my luck that even in his drunken state Holden catches it.

“He’s different now,” he says, out of nowhere.

“We all are.” I clear my throat. “Come on. Almost there.”

We amble down the hallway lined with old photos of the estate in various states dating back to the 1800s. It burned down in the early 1900s, but my favorite photos have always been the ones before the fire. This place has so much history, and it’s always fascinated me.

Holden’s feet somehow get tangled up with mine, knocking me off balance. We both go down, him taking the brunt of the fall, me landing on top of him. His arms come around my waist, holding me to him when I try to get up.

“Oh my God, get off of me,” I whine, trying to wiggle out of his hold.

“You’re warm and you smell pretty and I miss you.” I don’t know if it’s the alcohol talking, or if there’s any truth to it, but he sounds sincere, and it breaks my heart a little. Sometimes, I forget there’s a boy with feelings under all that bravado and sarcasm. We didn’t just lose Danny. We all lost each other. “We all do, even Thayer.”

I purse my lips. Even Thayer. Right. “Come on,” I say, patting his chest. “Let’s get you to bed.”

“What the fuck?” a voice booms from behind us. Holden’s chest shakes with laughter and I whip my head around to see Thayer standing there, a murderous expression on his face. I roll my eyes, pushing off Holden, and this time he lets me up.

Holden takes my outstretched hands, and I try to pull his heavy ass up.

“A little help would be nice,” I snap over my shoulder.

Thayer frowns, looking between the two of us before he prowls toward us and pulls Holden’s arm around his neck to hoist him up. “The fuck happened?”

“I don’t know. I found him like this.”

“Where?”

“Arrowhead Trail. I was driving home and he was just there. Like this,” I say, gesturing to his bloody state.

“Thayer?” a feminine voice calls out. My stomach drops when I see a beautiful, leggy brunette clad in only a bra and cut-off shorts standing in Thayer’s doorway. “What’s taking so long?” She cocks her head to the side, twirling her hair around her finger.

“You can handle it from here,” I say, quickly turning to leave. I know there have been other girls. I’m not dumb enough to think he hadn’t moved on. But knowing and seeing are two completely different things. I tuck my hair behind my ear, making my way down the steps as fast as I can without actually running away.

“Whoa, girl, where you going in such a hurry?” Aiden catches me by my shoulders when I hit the bottom step, pulling me in for a hug.