Games of Fire Page 9

  A queen bed sat pushed up into one corner, leaving the rest of the room open for a giant TV and surround sound system. There were shelves upon shelves, cluttered with games, trophies, books, comics, magazines and action figures. A basketball hoop was mounted into the wall against the opposite wall. Posters of celebrity athletes papered the ceiling. There was a dresser on the other side of the bed, holding up a giant stereo. Despite the amount of stuff, the space wasn’t cluttered or messy.

  Brian lay Jessie down gently on the ocean of soft, navy-blue, turning her onto her side. Lauren drew the comforter over her friend’s body and stepped back. She turned to Sophie.

  “Do you have pockets?” At Sophie’s nod, Lauren tossed her the keys. “Guard those with your life!” There was no humor on her friend’s face so Sophie didn’t crack a smile as she slipped the keys into the pocket of her jacket, next to her cellphone and house keys.

  Quietly, they left, closing and locking the door behind them.

  Lauren exhaled. “I’ll check on her in twenty minutes.” To prove it, she set the timer on her watch as she marched to the stairs.

  “She’s …” Brian trailed off, at a loss for words.

  “An amazing friend,” Sophie supplied, grinning.

  Chapter Eight

  Brian stayed by Sophie’s side the whole night, introducing her to his friends, sitting and chatting with her in the sitting area, pulling her onto the dance floor, ignoring her protests that she didn’t know how to dance. He kept her laughing with his jokes and shielded her from the harsh looks some of his friends were giving her. But even he couldn’t stop the sharp taunts some of the girls said right to Sophie’s face.

  “They’re friends with Tiffany,” he explained. “They weren’t happy when we broke up.”

  “I’m sorry about that,” Sophie said, meaning it.

  Brian shrugged, staring down at his hands. “It was bound to happen.”

  It was such an unusual response that she couldn’t help asking, “What do you mean?”

  He looked up, his sea-green eyes hooded with a hue of sadness. “I don’t like drama. Even with everything you saw tonight, I’m not the kind of guy who goes out of his way to be the center of attention. I like keeping my personal life private. Tiffany …” He trailed off, giving a sheepish wince.

  “Didn’t,” she finished.

  He nodded slowly, turning to stare off over the pool. It wasn’t as crowded now that the temperature had dropped. Most of the swimmers had crawled out in search of towels and dry clothes, leaving the backyard nearly empty. There were the odd couples huddled in shadowy corners. Most of them even had their clothes on still. When Brian had brought her out there, leading her to the wrought iron bench beneath the gnarled branches of an oak, she had been certain it was to follow the trend. She’d been working on how to turn him down when he sighed and dropped like a sack of potatoes on the bench, his entire body melting, almost pouring off the edges. He threw his arms over the back and stretched out his legs. Sophie took the spot beside him and watched the others enjoy the night.

  Lauren was in the crowd. Sophie could see her flirting quite shamelessly with a boy that didn’t go to their school, and judging from the stubble darkening his jaw, wasn’t even their age. Sophie was worried, but not for Lauren. The guy had no idea who he was dealing with. One wrong step and Lauren would skin him alive. She spotted Roy watching her friend every so often with a new sort of interest that made Sophie wonder if he would make some kind of move. He didn’t. He remained at a distance, sipping his drink and just watching.

  “Your friend is interesting,” Brian said, following her gaze across the courtyard. “Have you been friends for very long?”

  “Our whole lives,” she said, feeling a smile creep into her voice. “It’s always been the four of us.”

  “Four?”

  Sophie nodded. “Joe didn’t come.”

  Brian nodded slowly. “The guy that you always sit with. I’ve seen him around, but we’ve never talked.” He tilted his head to the side, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. “So how come I’ve never talked to you before?” he asked.

  Her fingers fiddled nervously at the hem of her dress. “I’m not sure. I guess because we don’t exactly run in the same circles.”

  He made a soft humming noise. “Well, I’m really glad I got to know you now.”

  Her heart jumped in her chest. “You are?”

  His shoulder moved in a shrug. “Well, yeah. You don’t give me that vibe.”

  Sophie’s eyebrows shot up. “Vibe?”

  “A lot of girls have gotten it in their heads that now that I’m single, I’m ready to just jump into another relationship. You haven’t tried hitting on me once all night. It’s nice. Truthfully, I still love Tiffany and that will probably never change so this has been very refreshing.”

  The disappointment was crippling. The selfish desire to blurt out that Tiffany was no good for him rose up into her mouth and dissolved, melting down her throat and back into her pinching abdomen. She tried not to meet his gaze, tried not to blink, worried that any sort of movement would somehow give away her guilt. Surely if she even opened her mouth at this point he would know just what a horrible person she was. After all, wasn’t that what she’d been hoping for?

  “Are you sure you and the new kid don’t have something going on?” Brian interrupted her thoughts to ask.

  Sophie blinked, surprised by the question. “Spencer? No. Why?”

  Brian jerked a chin towards the three set s of French doors, all open to the cool January air where they could just make out the dance floor, the sitting area and part of the kitchen. Sophie didn’t see him right away, not with the small cluster of girls surrounding him.

  “Well, he hasn’t paid a shred of interest to any of the other girls here, except you. So either he’s severely interested in you, which I would bet money on, or he’s interested in me, in which case … awkward.”

  As if sensing their gaze on him, Spencer raised his head and caught her eye. A shiver stole through her, hot and unstoppable. She felt it all the way down to her toes.

  “And from the way you look at him …” Brian continued slowly, making her flush at getting caught. “You like him back, so my question is this, why aren’t you with him tonight?”

  Sophie shook her head, averting her eyes. “That would be a very bad idea.”

  “Why’s that?”

  She could still feel Spencer’s eyes on her, feel them moving over her, touching her, warming her flesh. She felt the heat rising up into her cheeks, swirling in the pit of her stomach and rushing excitedly to her brain, disorientating her.

  “Because he hates me. Because he would rather inject himself with flesh melting venom than go anywhere with me. Because I’m not all together sure I like him.”

  Brian snorted. “I’ve never seen two people more in denial.”

  “I’m not in denial!”

  He laughed. “Trust me. No guy looking at a girl like that is thinking how much he hates her.”

  Unconsciously, her gaze flickered back to Spencer. Her breath caught to find him still watching her. “W … what is he thinking?”

  Brian leaned in close, almost touching her ear with his lips. “That he would like nothing better than to snatch you away from me and keep you to himself.” As if to prove something, he glided the tips of his fingertips over the length of her forearm. Sophie was too distracted by the possibilities of his words and the heat in Spencer’s eyes to notice that her crush was touching her, whispering into her ear and sitting so close, his scent was tattooing onto her skin. “Do you see it in his eyes? That is a guy two seconds away from marching over here and killing me.”

  It was on the tip of her tongue to laugh that nonsense thought away, to call Brian a hopeless romantic or a delusional nut. She even considered the possibility that Brian was drunk, but the proof was in the cold glare in Spencer’s eyes, in the hard set of his lips, the rapid dance of his jaw muscles. It was in the way he wa
s slowly tearing the flesh from Brian’s body with his eyes. Those eyes shifted and met hers and the heat in them changed to frustration.

  Sophie gasped. “No. That isn’t right. He doesn’t …”

  Brian pulled back. “I know guys.” He grinned. “I happen to be one.”

  It would be so easy to believe, to really believe Spencer … no! She couldn’t let herself dwell on those thoughts. The guy was a jerk. He’d been a jerk from day one without any cause or reasoning. She wasn’t about to lose herself to him and his sullen, gorgeous looks.

  “I should go check on Jessie,” she said, needing space to clear her thoughts.

  “I’ll come with you!” He rose to his feet.

  “No!” She winced at the sharpness in her voice. She forced a smile. “I have to use the washroom anyway and see when Lauren wants to leave.”

  Lame. She was so freaking lame and such a horrible person.

  If Brian picked up on her sudden need for distance, he never let on. He smiled at her kindly and nodded. “I’ll find you later then.”

  She tried to think of something to say next, some way to soften the guilt clawing at her. “Thank you for tonight. I really had an amazing time.”

  With a wave, she stalked over to where her friend stood, huddled under a giant, red and white lettermen jacket that was most definitely not hers. Lauren glanced over when Sophie joined her.

  “Hey, girlie,” Lauren said in greeting. “What you doin’?”

  Sophie tossed a once over on the guy standing next to her friend. Tall, about six feet, wide shoulders, broad chest, narrow waist, big hands. He practically smelled like a jock. He gave Sophie a head jerk nod thing.

  “Paul, this is my home girl Sophie,” Lauren introduced. “Paul goes to UV.”

  It didn’t surprise Sophie he went to university. She had guessed as much. What surprised her was that the guy wasn’t giving her the shifty eye or predatory smile like some of the other older guys checking out girls. His smile was genuine when he offered it.

  “Hi,” she said.

  He inclined his head. “Hey.”

  Sophie turned back to Lauren. “I’m going to check on Jess.”

  Lauren checked her watch. “I was going to go up in ten.” She lowered her hand, her dark eyes sweeping past Sophie to where Brian still sat, staring up at the rolling clouds. “Things not working out?”

  Sophie shrugged, trying not to show just how hurt she really felt. “Joe was right. Odds are he’ll go back to Tiffany if the chance ever came up.”

  Lauren clicked her tongue. “Ain’t that a shame? Well, boy don’t know what’s good for him.”

  “When did you want to go?” she asked, needing to change the subject.

  A pout pulled down Lauren’s shoulders. “Really?”

  “Well, we can’t stay here forever!” Sophie said.

  “I know, but … ” She gave a deft, signaling flick of her eyes towards Paul.

  Sophie sighed. “I’m going to hang inside. Find me when you’re ready, okay?”

  Beaming, Lauren nodded. “You got it!”

  With a last glance towards Paul, Sophie ducked through the patio doors. She weaved her way through the still raging crowd towards the stairs. Most of the dancing had turned to mindless groping, unsteady swaying and lots of howling. She could no longer tell if music was even playing. Gingerly, she made her way up the stairs, relieved to be alone for a change. Maybe she’d hang out with Jessie for a little while and take off her shoes. The damn things were killing her. She would have been rid of them hours ago, but between broken glass, gum, vomit and whatever else, the floor didn’t feel safe enough to walk around on with bare feet. She fished the key out of her jacket pocket and slipped it into Roy’s door.

  The door behind her opened with a resounding bong! It echoed through the corridor a split second before the riotous laughter and coughing. A plume of sweet smelling smoke billowed overhead like a thick carpet as three men stumbled out of a bathroom, shoving each other and making a world of noise. An uneasy chill crept over Sophie’s skin, making her wish she’d taken Brian’s offer and let him walk her. It could have been paranoia, but she couldn’t shake the bone deep desire to run, an impossibility in those shoes. But she couldn’t stand there either. These boys were definitely not from Westwood nor were they sober.

  Gingerly, careful not to draw attention, she turned the key in the lock, hoping to squeeze inside before they noticed her.

  “Well, what do we have here?” The commotion quieted.

  She could feel their eyes now fastened to her back, roaming over her, touching her in a way that made her want to take a shower. Sophie tried not to flinch, not to turn. Her fingers shook as she tried to twist the lock back into place, protecting Jessie.

  “You shouldn’t be up here,” one said. “This is an adult area only.”

  “Maybe she came up looking for a real party,” said another.

  “Is that it?” the first one said. “Are you here looking for some real fun?”

  The lock slipped soundlessly back into its latch. She dragged the key out slowly, curling her fingers around them to muffle any jingling.

  “Hey, we’re talking to you!” another voice said, this one louder, meaner than the first two. A large, heavy hand slammed down on her shoulder, nearly knocking her knees out from beneath her. She bit back a scream as she was yanked around and slammed into the wall next to the door. “Cat got your tongue?”

  He was the largest of the group, tall and menacing. Shiny black curls glistened in the soft light. Black pupils swallowed whatever color his eyes may have been, giving him an almost demonic appearance. His face was red, reminding her of a bull. He bore down on Sophie.

  “My friend will be up any minute,” she threatened, trying not to let her voice crack.

  A thick eyebrow lifted. “Friend, eh?” He glanced over his shoulder at his friends. “She is up here for some fun!” He turned back to Sophie. “But you won’t need him. We’ll keep you entertained.”

  Sophie didn’t let the cold fear paralyze her. Her mind jackhammered even as her body threatened to shut down. The keys in her hand punctured through the spaces between each fingers, creating a weapon. Hesitation sent a tremor through her hand, slicking her fingers with sweat. Her eyes stayed fixed on the face leering down at her around a mouthful of crooked teeth.

  “Get her in the bathroom!” one guy said, darting an anxious glance towards the stairway.

  The Bull-Guy seemed to think this was a good idea when he grabbed Sophie by the arm, dragging her off the wall he’d thrown her against.

  Her arm sprung forward instinctively. The jagged keys tore into Bull-Guy’s face like hot knives through cheese. It shredded the skin on his cheek, splitting it open in three angry gashes that oozed blood down the front of his green polo shirt. His howl rang like music to her pounding ears. He clutched at his face, not noticing the knee she thrust straight up between his legs until it was too late. He went down like a two ton truck. His friends, confused and bogged down by alcohol and drugs, weren’t quick enough to stop her when she darted past them and bolted at a neck breaking pace towards the stairs.

  “Get her!” She heard Bull-Guy roar.

  At the landing, Sophie kicked off her shoes and stumbled down. Behind her, she heard one of them go down, tripping over her discarded heels. There was cursing and yelling, then pounding of feet as they thundered after her.

  Sophie hit the bottom landing with a scream. She kept screaming as she ran down the hall, shouldering a faceless person without even pausing to see if they were okay when they crashed into the wall. At the kitchen opening, she whipped her head over her shoulder to see where her pursuers were and slammed into something solid. Long arms enfolded her, trapping her. Her throat ripped as she released another shriek. She wedged her hands between their bodies and used both fists to slam into the chest she was now being cradled against.

  “Sophie!”

  Panting, sobbing, she jerked her head up at the familiar vo
ice. “Spencer!”

  “There she is!” Two of the three guys appeared behind her, breathing hard, swaying slightly on their feet.

  Panic lanced through her body as she feared that no one would help her. What if no one stopped them from taking her? Terrified, her fingers closed around the soft fabric of Spencer’s shirt. “Please don’t let them take me, Spencer,” she begged, not sure if he would listen. He had a habit of doing the opposite of what she asked. “Please!”

  He surprised her. His arms tightened around her, pressing her deeper into his safe embrace as his eyes lifted to the men behind her.

  “Give us the girl, kid!” one said.

  Spencer snorted. “Right, like that’s going to happen.”

  “We just want to talk to her!”

  Looking at them as if they’d lost their minds, Spencer turned, taking Sophie with him, putting himself between her and the goons.

  They couldn’t have taken more than a handful of steps when a hand slammed down on Spencer’s shoulder, nearly shoving him into Sophie.

  He relinquished his hold on her, whipping around with both fists clenched. “Back off, man!” he growled.

  “Hey! What’s going on?” Roy appeared at their side, his dark eyes narrowed. They shot from Spencer to Sophie to the trio blocking the entrance way into the kitchen. “You two don’t go to Westwood and you weren’t invited.” There was finality in Roy’s voice.

  The group guarding the keg stopped whatever drinking game they were playing and turned. Most of them did this by clutching the guy beside them to keep from spilling over, but they were now facing the doorway leading into the kitchen the way Roy was.

  “You need to leave,” Roy said evenly.

  Before the two could respond, Bull-Guy charged into the room, his enraged expression marred by three bloody tears, eyes glinting wildly. Sophie reached over and clutched Spencer’s hand before she could stop herself, wrapping her chilled, unsteady fingers around his fist. The tightly clenched fingers unfurled and reclosed around her entire hand. She almost sagged in relief, having been so sure he’d push her away.