I Didn't Do It!

HUNTER

The Uber dropped me off two blocks from the house and as I climbed out, staring at the building glowing at the end of the street, a smirk curved the corner of my lips.

Yeah.

This was definitely going to be a better night than sitting at home.

I began walked towards it, hearing the loud music thumping even from the distance.

There were a couple of teens crowded at the front lawn with red cups in their hands, moving to the music while someone in the driveway attempted to balance on the roof of a parked car.

As I stared at the house, I had to do a double take.

Okay.

Maybe I had underestimated Raven Hill a little.

I'd assumed everyone in Raven Hill lived in rusted trailers or decrepit apartments, but this place was surprisingly decent.

Sure the driveway wasn't pack with brand-new European sports cars like the ragers back at Fonteign, but the house was nice and the baseline degeneracy of a party filled with teens and no parental guidance was universal.

The air inside was thick with the suffocating cocktail mix of cheap vodka, beer, equally as cheap perfumes and sweat.

Bass vibrated through the floorboards, while colored lights flashed across the walls.

Group of teens were crammed into every corner. Some of them were passed out on armchairs, others were grinding against each other in the dim light of the living while a crowd in the kitchen cheered on a guy chugging out of a plastic keg.

Spitting a few familiar faces I knew from the hockey team, I suddenly recalled Emma mentioning Reeves might be here.

My eyes immediately started scanning the crowd.

Where the fuck was he?

I moved deeper into the house, trying to see over the heads of the crowd.

Still nothing.

Maybe Emma had been fucking with me.

It's kinda weird I was looking for him, but I'd be honest, this was a party filled with guys who either tried to kill me when I joined their team, or kids I didn't know at all.

So I needed his familiar face to feel less out of place even if he'd look at me as though I was a bug buzzing in his ears.

“So, you actually made it."

I turned my head.

Emma was standing at the bottom of the staircase, leaning casually against the railing.

“You sound surprised.” I smirked, slipping my hands into my pockets

She laughed and walked toward me. “I thought you might change your mind.”

“Well no. I hope you've got the good stuff because there's no way in hell I'm showing up to a party and staying sober.”

“I have an older brother in college. Trust me I know the good stuff." She hooked her fingers around my wrist, tugging slightly. “Come on.”

“To where?”

“I'm getting you a drink.”

Well.

That was an offer I could hardly refuse.

---

Three hours later, my brilliant plan to observe Tristan Reeves and also use him as my social crutch had completely fucking collapsed.

Turned out I could have fun by myself amongst a crowd of kids I didn't know.

After the hockey meatheads had predictably iced me out of the main living room, I'd wandered into the backyard and discovered a group of students running an extremely competitive beer-pong game on the patio.

I suck at beer pong so it was perfect.

Most losers were pissed that they had to drink so much but I was the guy who grinned as he downed every cup on his opponent's side after sinking six straight cups.

I was properly shit-faced, just like I wanted.

My head felt pleasantly heavy, telling me just how much I missed this. Most parties i threw back then, I used my dad's expensive liquor, but their cheap stuff here was almost just as good.

Okay maybe not, but fuck it, who cares anyway?

“Alright, king." Emma suddenly purred. I didn't have to turn my head to know just how close she was standing.

I could feel her breath against my ear.

“Victory break.”

And just like earlier, her fingers wrapped around my wrist, pulling me away from the cheering crowd, and back into the house.

"Where are we going?" I slurred, as I let her pull me along.

Now that I wasn't throwing down drinks back to back, my head was swimming. The world was sloshing in slow motion, making the neon colors bleed into the dimmer hallways.

"Most guys don't ask questions when being invited to a girl's room you know?" She teased, turning to flash me a sultry wink.

Oh...

We soon reached the second floor.

Here the rap music downstairs was muted and a lot more people who crowded the hallways were full on making out, while some of them sought privacy behind one of the doors.

Emma stopped at one near the end of the hallway.

She opened it and after dragging me in with her, kicked it shut with her heel.

At this point, I felt really sick and couldn't see much of the room except it was really pink.

I leaned against the wall, running a heavy hand through my hair as I let out a slurred laugh. "What are we doing up here, Emma?"

She didn't answer, instead stepping straight into my personal space.

Her hands slid up my chest while she locked her eyes onto mine. “You talk too much, Beaumont.”

Suddenly, she rose on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to mine.

The kiss was fast and out of nowhere, making the room spun around us.

I didn't pull away immediately, because I honestly didn't know what else to do, my brain too slugged by cheap whiskey to think.

But as her tongue slid past my lips and her hands rubbed over my back and slid into my hair, my hand stayed hovering uselessly beside me.

I wasn't into this... Not even remotely.

Which should be insane. Emma was my type. Yes I was the jock stereotype who always dated the cheerleaders.

And yet as she kissed me, all I could remember was Reeves. His big rough hand twisting into my hair and forcefully yanking my head back while I was on my knees, hands cuffed to my back.

As weird as that was, I could chalk it up to the alcohol at least.

But what I couldn't ignore was my near discomfort as she reached for my limp dick.

With that,, I finally tilted my head back, and broke the kiss. "Uh, hold on a sec, Emma. I think I need some water.”

She laughed softly. “You're fine.”

“No, seriously. I'm pretty fucking drunk.”

I tried to step back but she tried to drag me back and failed because of my sheer bulk.

What the fuck?

I raised a brow at her, parting my mouth to tell her off for real this time but without warning, her fingers hooked beneath the neckline of her top and she yanked hard at it.

Rip.

The sound tore through the room.

“What the fuck?” I exclaimed, gaping at her torn shirt.

But she only scrambled backward, knocking a glass lamp to the ground..

As the glass shattered ahaisnt the floor she let out a blood curling scream.

“GET OFF ME!”

My entire body went cold and the heavy alcohol induced fog in my brain briefly lifted. "What are you doing?"

But she ignored me and screamed even louder.

“HELP! HUNTER, STOP!”

My heart slammed against my ribs.

“What the fuck?! I didn't even touch you!”

As I tried to make sense of what was going on, the bedroom door was suddenly kicked open, violently so, that the wood splintered down the center.

"What the fuck are you doing with my girlfriend man?!" Was the first thing I heard before a large fist crashed against my skull, rattling my brain in it.

As white exploded in my vision, I nearly fell to the ground, dazed but I grabbed onto the nearby table with a hand and my head with the other.

It was Jason who'd just punched me. Did he say Emma was his girlfriend?

My eyes fell to the girl who had now dropped beside the bed, pulling the torn fabric against her chest.

“He wouldn't stop, baby.” she sobbed. “I told him no, but he wouldn't stop.”

My mouth fell open as a mix of anger and panic spread in my chest. "I didn't... I didn't do anything!"

Jason's face twisted with fury and he lunged at me again. “You fucking piece of shit.”

“Wait!” I yelled, sidestepping his fist. “I really didn't touch her.”

But he wasnt listening and as I glanced at the new faces rushing into the room, they didn't believe me either.

Fuck.