CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
TINY'S POV
The door whistles behind us until it closes. Luca appears unhinged by the incident and staggers to me shaking, "do you know who that was?"
I brush past him to avoid his breakdown of the events, but he's fast to move forward. "It's handled. Go see your friends, Luca."
He begins to speak but stops when a gentle arm is wrapped around my neck in a squeeze. A sickly sweet voice follows.
"Tiny Calaway!" Tori sings, pressing herself to me as I stumble backward, "it's been ages!"
I turn to see Akila's twin who is heavily intoxicated. She pulls me into a hug, and I can't help but wonder about the last time she's hugged her sister. As always, Tori looks incredible in a plunging top. She squeezes my hand swaying, "come drink with us! Michael has been talking about you all day."
Part of me hopes that Luca will pull her off of me, but he's already shuffled away into the crowd. Tori is oblivious to his absence as she pinches the fabric on my sleeves. The last thing I want is to be in a conversation with Michael or try hauling a drunk Tori around with a limp.
"How much have you had to drink?" I say, prying her off of me.
She swats at my hands giggling, pulling me into the lobby. "Only a little. Join me!"
Despite her drunk state, Tori composes herself with grace. The pack house is lively with Redwood and Silvercrest members indulging in each other's company. At the sight of it, you wouldn't believe there was ever hostility between the packs. Among the crowd, a handful of children play among the adults as they thread through the legs of distracted adults.
Based on Tori's intoxication, I bet the house smells of bourbon and smoked meat. It's Gahiji's favorite.
I pat Tori's shoulder lightly, "maybe later. I need to speak with Gahiji."
There used to be a time when we were careless and free. Hiding under blankets telling each other stories and being content with the little things in life. Part of me expected her to retort or even beg me to join. However, Tori turns on her heels and waves as she rejoins her group of friends.
Her voice floats among the loud chatter, "you know where to find me!"
Staggering through the lobby, I squeeze past the thick body of a crowd. I try to ignore the shots of pity and disgust from the members of Redwood. Their beady eyes pry at my tired state. I wasn't new to their distaste. I use to receive the same looks from Silvercrest. Branded as useless and a tragedy.
I grew up scrutinized for something out of my control.
The heat from the crowd lessened as my fingers reach for the wooden stairwell. Enveloping my fingers around the glossy rail, I haul myself up the thick stairs. Part of me lies to myself. Trying to sell me a fabricated lie that my disfigurement meant I was a warrior like the rest of them.
A hollering voice breaks my chain of thought as it topples over the commotion. Dread fills me as the vocal registers. I could recognize that crisp sailing tone a mile away.
"Tiny!" said Michael as he waves below in a sea of strangers.
Ignoring him, I climb up three more steps before he cries again.
"I know you can hear me!" he bellows, his arm extended in the air with a glass of- what I hoped was sparkling cider.
Heat climbs up my neck to the top of my ears. The crowd's livelihood died down as he climbed onto the open bar. Eyes were pinned on us in every direction and a hot sensation of embarrassment corroded inside me. The person who used to terrorize me as children still holds to his motives in our youth. Except now, he's considered smitten with the girl he use to degrade.
I straighten my posture as best as my body allowed. My muscles ache as the pain burns in my joints. But I can't show an ounce of weakness as wandering eyes watch Michael's unwanted display of affection.
I turn my attention to him and watch as his lanky body staggers on the counter. A satisfied lopsided grin displayed on his chiseled face. Michael is a spitting image of his father, and I know Silas won't be pleased with the scene his son has created.
He runs his open hand through his dark hair while holding his glass in the other. "You can't deny me forever," he says playfully, turning to the dart target behind him, "unless you can shoot that!"
My fingers lace around my pouch as his friends followed behind his tipsy display.
"Just go out with him already!"
"Come on, firebug!" The boys' hiss below, "say yes so he doesn't hurt himself."
I draw out a slender arrow. Tracing the assortment of feathers on its narrow body. Beside the group, I see Tori indulging in their company. She dances effortlessly and unphased by the racket. I'd give anything right now to be oblivious and unbothered. I set my chin on the clip and line the bow along my shoulder.
The angle isn't flattering and it makes the shot difficult but still manageable. The thought of missing the target never lingers far from my mind as I release the trigger. A sound of gasps and shrills fills my ears as Michael's glass shatters in the air. The whoosh of the bow dies as the arrowhead slams into the target.
Michael reacts to it stunned and late. The shards of his glass fizzle from his unscathed hand while he's now drenched in the fallen liquor. The crowd is silent with heads tucked low until a Silvercrest member screams in celebration. Michael shakes the spilled content from his hand as he examines the arrow before shouting, "that's my girl!"
I lean against the rail as my bow dips to my knees. I'm certain my ears are on fire now, "I never said that was my target."
I can feel my brow furrow as my attention stops at the sight of Cyrus who remains at the side of the bar. If looks could kill, I'd drop like a fish out of water. Beside him, Adam and his friend were settled by Cyrus's side. I can't tell if they look intrigued or repulsed, but I can read Cyrus easily.
Swearing under my breath, I retreat up the stairs. As I reach the upper floor, my eyes fall on Gahiji's den at the end of the narrowing hall. I'd never hear the end of this. I sulk forward passing the decorated halls until my feet reach the carved glossy den door. For a moment, I see a dark silhouette slink in the corner of my eye. The voices dwindle below as I hear Michael's praises, "I'm going to marry her!"
So much for discretion, I mumble to myself as I knock on Gahiji's door.