Reign (Sin City Outlaws #1)(20)

The front door is open, so we head straight in. The place is packed; I can’t see where to go. The smell of smoke is strong, and perfume and cologne are lingering in the air.

“Alessandra!” I holler, trying to get her attention, second-guessing this whole idea. She doesn’t look my way; instead, she tightens her hold on my hand and pulls me through the crowd.

We pass some stairs leading up to the second floor, where a man is lying on his back and two naked girls are rubbing their bare tits along his chest, one kissing him hard. Two men have their phones out taking pictures and recording.

My heart accelerates as I take in more of my surroundings—lots of sex and drinking, possibly drugs. Looking over, I spot a guy standing against a wall, a girl on her knees, with a girl under her. Oh, my God, that guy is getting a blowjob from a girl who's getting her * eaten out by another girl! This isn’t like any party I’ve been to before.

“Here, drink this!” Alessandra hands me a shot glass, a smile on her face.

“Alessandra, we shouldn’t be here!” I shake my head and glance down at the amber liquid. I've had shots before; they taste like shit, but make you feel like a goddess. When I drink the hard stuff, I get word vomit—no filter. I say what I’m feeling and what’s on my mind, which is why I try not to do it very often.

“You okay?” She squeezes my shoulder, and my eyes flick to hers.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” My voice is tight, showing I'm anything but.

“Hey! We're not doing anything wrong. We’re off the clock and are enjoying ourselves at a get-together.”

I laugh; this is hardly a casual get-together. People like us don’t go to parties like these. “So what, we're just supposed to overlook everything illegal?”

Her face scrunches into one of sympathy and irritation. “Jillian, you can’t go around trying to save the city every chance you get. You’ll never have any fun that way. Don’t you want to have some fun?”

I twist the glass in my hand, the liquid swishing around. I've always been labeled the boring, rule-abiding citizen. I want to break the rules, want to live on the edge to some degree. Every time I do, though, guilt rides up my back telling me I know better. My father would be furious, my job could be gone, and what would people think of me? I get this gut-clenching fear that riddles my lower half, making me side-step the wild side and stay where it’s safe… and numb. The only time I feel is when I’m on the job. Adrenaline rushing through me, blue staining my veins with righteousness. But I’d be a liar if I said I never wondered what it felt like to be the one being bad.

“I do, I just...” I pause, not sure what holds me back to the point I don’t live, that I can’t live.

“You’re scared.” My eyes pop from the glass to Alessandra’s. “You’re scared, I get it. You've never been outside the box. You’re like that puppy that's been on a leash all its life, and when you’re finally set free, you’re scared as hell, wanting the leash back."

I frown, her comparing me to a leashed dog not very appealing, but accurate.

“You’re kind of a bitch.”

“I didn’t mean it as in you are a dog. I just mean your parents have warped you into this person who...” She shrugs, downing her shot. “Who doesn’t have any fun.”

Swallowing hard, her words hit my chest. It hurts, because she’s right.

“Let’s stay for a couple of songs, then we’ll go.”

Looking around me, everyone is dancing and having a good time. Maybe I am over-thinking it. I can do a few songs, a few drinks.

“Come on! Drink up, dance, and mingle. Let loose and stop worrying about how many crimes everyone’s committing.” She laughs, making me laugh because I’ve counted fifteen discrepancies already.

Gripping the shot glass, I toss it back. The fire burns my throat, warming my stomach.

“Damn!” I holler, fanning my mouth like it’s actually going to take the fire away.

Alessandra giggles and hands me a bottle of Sprite.

“You should probably chase it, it helps with the cheap liquor.”

Grabbing the Sprite, I take a huge swig.

“Here, take another!” She hands me another shot from the table. A big, burly girl with thick, curly hair fills the small glasses, her head bobbing to the music.

“You sure?” I take the glass, my face etched with unease. You’d think by now they’d have a shot that doesn’t taste like fuel.

“Yes, you need it!”

Lifting the glass to my mouth, I pinch my nose and down it. Grabbing the Sprite, I can’t get the lemony liquid down fast enough to chase the burn away.

“Damn, it doesn’t taste any better the second time,” I groan, smacking my lips together.

“Should we get more?” She waggles her brows, and I do this choppy thing with my hands telling her no more. I don’t drink hard stuff that often, so I know I’m a lightweight and don’t want to get too plastered.

“If I do one more shot, I’ll puke.”

Alessa Cara's “Here” starts playing from the speakers in the wall, and a bunch of drunk girls start screaming with excitement as they run to the main living room. A tall, dark female in black shorts starts dancing on the coffee table. That's when I notice she has on no top, her dark nipples are pierced and out for all to see.