RIOT HOUSE (Crooked Sinners #1) - Callie Hart Page 0,61

quickly as I could and then take it over to his place. He told me to leave it on the desk in his room, and then get the fuck out of there. That’s it. That’s all I know.” He grabs the white napkin Elliot was holding his brownie in and waves it in the air. “I’m sorry, okay. Look! I surrender! I’m not good at this kind of stuff, all right? I’m used to people like you and like…like him ignoring me. I don’t exist to you people, and I wanna go back to being invisible, because this really sucks.”

It’s taken me a beat to notice the split lip again. I see it now, though, because he’s been talking so animatedly that he’s reopened the wound, and a snake of bright red blood’s running down his chin. Wren did that to him. Beside me, Presley coughs uncomfortably. “Maybe we should go find Carina. I don’t wanna get tangled up in Riot House shit. This sounds like a you and her kind of thing.”

I advance on Tom, pitying him and hating him in equal parts. He goes very, very pale. “What does that mean? People like me?”

“You know,” he says softly. “Popular kids. Members of the social elite. You…you’re like them.”

The fury that’s been spinning around like a ball of white, searing heat in my chest detonates, shattering my mind apart for a moment. Jem awkwardly sidles her way out of the group, slinking away, her eyes glued to the floorboards. Elliot and Clay look too stunned to move. “I’m not like them,” I hiss. “I’m nothing like them. How can you say that? You don’t know me at all.”

Tom lowers the napkin as if resigned now to his fate. He knows he’s said the wrong thing. I’m a microsecond away from throwing myself on him, when Carina arrives in a swirl of purple fabric and braids. “Hey! What’s up, guys? Jem just said a fight was about to break out in here.”

I can’t bring myself to look at her. “Tell her what you did, Tom.”

He blinks. “It isn’t like I had a choice,” he moans.

Carina’s friendly tone evaporates. “Tom Petrov. Tell me what you’ve done.”

15

ELODIE

“For the record, this is a horrible idea. You know that, right?”

I grunt, tucking my chin into the collar of my jacket. It’s freezing in Carina’s car. Her mood’s frosty, too. She’s pissed that she’s had to leave her Samberg lookalike unattended back at Oscar’s, but this was her choice. “I told you to stay,” I grumble. “I could have ordered an Uber.”

“Uber drivers won’t take us up the mountain,” she grouses. “Too many entitled Wolf Hall kids have thrown up in the back of their Priuses. We’re blacklisted, down to a man.”

“Well, that’s bullshit.”

“So, no, you couldn’t have ordered an Uber. I’m the only way you were getting back up this hill, and I’m telling you, categorically, that this is fucking insanity.”

“You said it yourself, Carrie. Those arrogant motherfuckers are in Boston tonight. They won’t be back until tomorrow at the earliest. So what does it matter? They’ll never even know we were there.”

“Of course they’ll know! Wren will know as soon as he sees that your phone’s not in his room. And then what?”

“Right. And then what? He can’t exactly report it as a theft, can he? He obtained my property via means of assault for unknown, nefarious purposes. The last thing he’s gonna do is tell anyone that I went into their precious house to take back what is rightfully mine.”

“Christ,” Carina mutters through clenched teeth. “You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into, girl. No idea what you’re getting me into. You’re still drunk. Why don’t we wait until morning, have a think, and see if we can’t come up with a better pla—”

“I’m stone cold sober now and you know it. Look, I totally get it. If I were you, I wouldn’t want any part of this either. Why don’t you just drop me off in front of the house and go back to the party. I can walk the rest of the way from there.”

“Two miles, Elle? In the middle of the night? In the cold and the dark? Along windy, narrow roads? You’ll get smoked by a car. They won’t even see you until it’s too late. What kind of friend would that make me, huh?”

I have nothing to say to that. What can I say? Hiking my way back to Wolf Hall sounds like a shit time.