Blood Money (1) | The Inheritance Games

L. white horse

"Cause I'm not your princess, this ain't a fairytale, I'm gonna find someone someday who might actually treat me well, this is a big world, that was a small town, there in my rear-view mirror disappearing now. And it's too late for you and your white horse, now it's too late for you and your white horse, to catch me now."

Tristan, Amelia, Maja and I walk through the doors of a kid in our classes party. Jameson, Xander and Avery all declined my suggestion, no doubt solving their little mysteries. 

"Why's it just us?" Maja asks curiously as the four of us meld into the crowds of partiers. "Jamie and Ave were busy." I shrug. 

I see something in Maja's face tick. "Oh so we're your backups?" Tristan snorts. "Nope. Xander, Rebecca and Thea were busy so I called you guys." I say with a cheeky smirk. "I'm fine being third choice." Amelia shrugs, a happy grin as she throws her arms up, throwing shapes with total strangers. 

"Avery's been spending a lot of time with your brother." Tristan comments. "If by 'spending a lot of time' you mean skipping school together to 'solve mysteries' then yeah. Only mystery he's solving is how far he can shove his-"

I cut myself off when I see Maja consume herself in the taste of a random guy my age. Tristan and I share a short glance as she grinds against this total stranger in an intimate and desperate way. 

"Touchy subject?" Tristan snorts, walking by and positioning himself by the drinks table. 

I sigh, struggling to make my own way to the keg out back. I wriggle between sweaty bodies and make my way outside, pouring a beer.

I reenter the mansion and try to locate Maja, catching a glimpse of her just quick enough to see her slipping into a bedroom with the guy I saw her making out with moments ago. I would follow her in and punch the fuck out of him, but she's sober, she has full control of her actions.

I start to squeeze my way through the crowds in any direction that's less tightly packed together. I feel everyone's body on mine, pressed up close and causing a familiar fight or flight trauma response. 

I breathe, reminding myself that everyone in this crowd are just drunk teenagers. Not one of them holds the power or strength that Anthony Jenkins did that night. 

Just as my pulse is finally slowing I feel an arm slowly crawl around my waist, haunting me and making me feel nauseous. 

I pull to free myself but the muscular arm grips me in place, hoisting my back flush against his chest. 

My heart stops and my life flashes before my eyes.

Noah.

I've spent fuck knows how long smoking, snorting and swallowing all sorts of illicit drugs. I'm not proud, but I'm not ashamed. I've spent my whole life taking the punches, I think I've earned this. 

Most of my nights have been spent fucking whatever girl is willing to spread their legs for me. Each time ends in a panic attack and another girl thinking I'm an asshole. 

Dad's been getting harder with his punches, or maybe I'm just getting weaker. The drugs help take the pain away in the long run, but in the moments where I actually feel his fists colliding with my body I feel it even more than before. 

I'm off my anxiety meds, they don't mix well with the pills I'm taking so I just cut them off entirely. It isn't like they were working anyway. 

I've been quiet around Maja. I know she'd sniff me out in seconds if I let her in. Same with Grams.