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They went out to the shed in the back yard, where Trey had a home brewery that was really just a series of old barrels that he used to make the stuff. Caelyn was worried that he was going to poison them accidentally, because none of the stuff in his shed looked sterile or clean.

But Elijah was happy to drink with his old friend and trade stories about their younger days and people from their past.

Caelyn sipped at her drink and tried to remain polite, but all she could do was think about when they were going to be able to get out of there and away from Trey and Paris.

Paris, in fact, joined them not long after.

She returned wearing a skirt that was almost as short as her Daisy Dukes had been, and a new shirt that was just as revealing as her t-shirt had been previously. The only real difference was now she was wearing high heels and she had applied enough makeup to look like a high-class hooker.

Paris was only too happy to match the boys drink for drink and giggle at every new story that was told. Especially when Elijah was talking.

When Elijah made a joke, Paris would exclaim with delight, let out a laugh, and bat her eyelashes mercilessly.

Caelyn could hardly stand it, and eventually she decided that if she couldn’t beat them, she’d join them too.

So she started to drink more.

After the first full glass of beer, she was starting not to mind Paris as much, or Trey and his bush beard and paranoid rants about the government and the illuminati.

After the second glass, she was laughing too, sometimes even if she didn’t quite know why.

The afternoon turned into evening, and they all went back inside for dinner.

Nobody was sober, and they decided to fry up some steaks that Trey said he’d been saving for a special occasion.

Caelyn hadn’t ever heard of anyone saving raw meat for a special occasion. But she trusted he’d frozen the steaks, at the least.

Everyone was still drinking, only now Trey had broken out the red wine and whiskey.

At one point, Elijah threw his arm over Caelyn’s shoulder and leaned in to kiss her neck and whisper in her ear. “This isn’t so bad, is it?”

She shook her head and smiled. “No, it’s not.”

By the end of the night, they were playing poker together using poker chips for money and everyone was having a good time—made easier by the fact that they’d all gotten good and drunk.

Paris eventually passed out on the couch, her head resting on a pile of old magazines.

Caelyn won all the chips on the last big hand, where she beat Trey’s flush with her full house.

“Damn, this girl plays it close to the vest, Elijah,” Trey said, when he saw that he’d lost. “You better keep an eye on her—she’s got a real poker face.”

“Don’t you think I know that already?” Elijah laughed, grabbing Caelyn’s hand and squeezing it.

Caelyn smiled, feeling good for the first time in a long time—good in a way that felt familiar, like a long lost friend. Maybe she’d been too hard on Trey and Paris and their cluttered little home.

They did live a different life than she was used to, and perhaps she’d snobbishly judged them in a way that hadn’t been fair.

When she and Elijah were laying in bed together that night, the haze of booze and the closeness of Elijah’s body creating a sensual, drowsy feeling in her body and mind that made her want to tell him everything.

“I think I wouldn’t mind staying here longer,” she admitted, as her hand slid over Elijah’s bare torso, feeling the ridges of his stomach muscles and then his tight chest.

She put her lips to his chest and licked his salty skin.

“You’re just drunk,” Elijah laughed. But then he inhaled sharply as Caelyn flicked his nipple with her tongue.

“Maybe you like it when I’m drunk,” she said.

He looked at her. “I don’t mind it.”

“No, I didn’t think you would.” She licked down his chest, to his stomach, and then further down.

“Holy shit.” Elijah threw his head back against the pillow. “Caelyn, what are you doing?”

“Letting go,” Caelyn said. “Enjoy it.” She slowly pulled down Elijah’s boxers and enjoyed herself, too.

***

She woke up the next morning early, her head pounding.

“Oh God,” she moaned, her mouth tasting like dirt and ash and old newspaper.

She swallowed and her throat seared with pain. She sat up, her stomach curdling.

A clock by the bedside read 6:13 a.m.

Caelyn knew she should try and go back to sleep, but she couldn’t. Her mind was racing and she felt decidedly sick.

Elijah was snoring in bed, totally unconscious. He didn’t stir as Caelyn got up and dressed slowly. It was cold, and she needed to warm up and get something in her stomach.

“Coffee,” she whispered to herself, already imagining the hot liquid coating her poor throat and stomach. Coffee would do wonders, she decided.

She could whip up a batch of Trey’s instant coffee downstairs and have a cup or two before anybody was awake. Then maybe she’d see if she could use the shower.

Caelyn padded quietly through the maze of boxes and to the basement door, which was ajar. It creaked slightly as she opened it further and then started downstairs.

When she reached the landing, she turned the corner, her mind thinking only of getting the kettle boiling. But as she swung into the basement, her eyes were greeted by a shocking spectacle.

Laid out on the desk beside Trey’s computer, was a large scale. Sitting on the scale was a large green clump of marijuana. Next to the scale were bags and bags of the stuff, piled and stacked in orderly fashion.

Caelyn’s eyes took it in, but her mind seemed to be having trouble processing it.

She’d never seen more than a joint or two at a college party, and maybe someone had once pulled out a little baggie with some buds in it. But this was something different.

There had to be pounds of the stuff on Trey’s desk—enough to satisfy all of Cambridge University’s potheads if he’d so desired.

Caelyn couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Elijah had told her that Trey was finished selling drugs.

And now here she was, staring at a virtual drug empire in operation on Trey’s desk.

Her mind finally snapped into action. She had to go and tell Elijah right away, and they needed to leave immediately. Trey wasn’t to be trusted, and they were in danger staying in any place where this kind of thing was going on.

Suddenly, she heard a door creak open from nearby, and then Trey came out of the small bathroom that adjoined the basement. He stroked his beard and looked at her for a long moment. “You and I have a problem,” he said.

And then he moved towards her.

THE END OF BOOK 6

STAY TUNED FOR BOOK 7 IN THE SERIES, COMING SOON.

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Table of Contents

THE END OF BOOK 6