The Collective

Chapter Eleven

Bass thrummed in my chest the second I got out of the car. I half expected the ground to be shaking, but no. A stately antebellum style mansion, complete with columns, stretched up in front of us. There were several cars parked haphazardly. A few people, with red solo cups, spilled onto the front lawn.

Mikayla grabbed Sarah's hand, pulling her into the darkness behind the door. They were giggling like hyenas.

A giant of a human, in a tight, black shirt, stood in front of the door. He pressed his hand, which was bigger than my head, on Riggs' chest, stopping our progress.

My pulse thrummed. We could run, right through the house. There were several windows open, and the path in front of me was a lot clearer than the one behind me. The worst thing we could do was try to fight him. He was huge, and it wasn't like I had the skill to fight someone my own size anyways.

Riggs laughed. They did that weird half hug thing guys do. He took hold of my hand my hand as he wound his way to the wet bar in the far corner of the spacious living room. Neon lights bounced along the walls and the ceiling. The space to the left of the stairs was almost completely full of people almost swaying on beat.

He flagged down the bar tender, who almost dropped the tray of drinks in his hand. He sauntered over to us.

"Riggs. Never thought I'd see you in here again. Where you been hiding?" His voice was deceptively deep. It didn't match him.

Riggs shook his head, grinning. "The mountains were calling." He motioned me forward. "This is Annie. Take care of her, would you?"

The man nodded. He watched Riggs as he maneuvered his way behind the pedestal set up for the DJ. He clapped the young girl on the shoulder. She squealed, hugging him tightly. They stood in front of the turntable, laughing. A couple seconds later, they had everyone within a thirty-mile radius dancing.

The bar tender tapped the counter, drawing my attention away from the suddenly animated Riggs. "What can I get you to drink?"

I hesitated. One of Ethan's hard and fast rules was don't drink with strangers. But apparently, he didn't mind thievery. "I'll take a whiskey sour, please."

He raised an eyebrow as he mixed it. He slid it in front of me. "How'd you know Riggs?"

I went out on a limb. "Law school."

He whistled. "You actually finish?"

I shrugged, Ethan's voice blaring in my ears. All good lies come from truth. "I became an English teacher." Editor at a major magazine, but same thing.

He shook his head. "I'll drink to that." He drifted off towards a horde of grad students.

I took the opportunity to leave. The music was too much, the bass wreaking havoc with my heartbeat. My head spun. The distinctly human smell swirling in the air didn't help. I headed for the front door.

A hand on my shoulder almost made me drop. I jerked out from under it, twisting on my heel.

Sarah stood, arms raised. She leaned in closer, raising her voice. "We're going to stay the night. There's rooms upstairs and to the right."

What if I didn't want to stay the night? Why, not? I could grab a couple more drinks... let loose. No Max. No letters. No one watching. Just me, out, having a good time.

I gave her a thumbs up. I let her pull me onto the dance floor and I didn't protest when Mikayla handed me a shot glass, full of glowing liquid. I downed it. Fruity. Another!