Page 142 of Under the Influence

“No,” Drayton quips. “It’s not like that. Well, it was at first but not anymore. Lainey, I love you.”

She steps back defensively when he tries to get close, causing Drayton to shoot Nash a murderous glare.

“Don’t look at him,” Madden warns. “For once, this isn’t his fault. This one is on you.”

He pushes by him, grabbing Lainey by the hand and leading her down the stairs. By now, the attention of everyone at the party is on us. I give Nash one last glance and follow Madden and Lainey down the stairs to the front door.

The shuffling behind me demands my attention, and I turn around just in time to see Nash’s fist connect with Carson’s jaw.

I stand there in shock for a moment as Nash loses his mind,, but I feel the need to walk quickly away, putting as much distance between all of us as possible. Lainey’s sobs fill the silence as she drags me by the hand away from the party.

Finally, I find my voice, “Why are they fighting?”

She stops dead in her tracks, “You don’t know?”

She pulls her phone out, showing me a screen recording of the video posted to Carson’s story that has since been deleted. Emotion fills my throat, and it’s like Chicago all over again. Except this time, the only thing I feel is rage.

The video was taken from my bedroom window.

Only one person could’ve taken it.

Suddenly, everything starts making a little more sense. Carson left the party with Avery as damage control. He chose her, and Nash saw the video, too. It’s why he’s here. He thinks I lied to him about Carson.

I want to be pissed at him but remembering what just happened in Carson’s room, I knew.

I felt it and I knew. I just didn’t care. Nash was testing me, but when things escalated, I knew that it was Nash.

Things with Carson wouldn’t have gotten that far.

Everyone from inside starts to filter out the door, a couple of the guys holding Nash and Carson apart. I glance at Jovie, seeing the smug look on her face, and I snap.

“Madden, pop the trunk,” I demand, walking around the back of his Honda.

“What are you doing?” he asks, watching as I pull a baseball bat from his bag.

“Taking what’s mine.”

I grip the bat with both hands and walk to Jovie’s car, slamming it into the windshield, watching as the glass explodes into the front seat.

Gasps and whispers fill the night air, and I walk across the lawn to Jovie. She looks absolutely terrified as I toss the bat at her feet, taking the one thing she wants away, “Nash will be going to Homecoming with me.”

I step back, and my eyes find Nash, watching as the flashing blue lights reflect in his. He closes the distance between us, grabs my hand, and pulls me behind him as we run.

Suddenly, I know this is nothing like Chicago.

I’m not alone.

I have Nash holding my hand and an invisible crown on my head. One that I plan on keeping there, for now.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I lost it when I saw that video.”

“That video was old,” I argue. “I knew when you grabbed my wrist that you weren’t Carson.”

“You called me Carson,” he pants, still pulling me behind him. “It made me crazy.”

“I was just playing your game.”

“I’m done,” he snaps. “The games are done. If you think I’m letting anyone else have you now, you’re crazy.”