Drake raised a brow at me and nodded. The look on his face confused me. While I knew Tate was into being a fuck-up, Drake’s reaction wasn’t what I was expecting. He looked like he was trying to hide his anger over the situation without giving himself away. Or maybe I was just hoping he was.
“We at least get to watch, right?” Tate asked.
“Of course. For one thing, seeing Fallon finally give in to his baser needs will be something we all should witness. Locking him in a room and telling him he can fuck her won’t have quite the same effect,” Hail said, raking his fingers through his blond hair.
“Think she’ll fight back?” Tate turned to Hail like it was story time.
“Absolutely. She’s a little hellcat,” Hail said.
“Can we not talk about me forcing my dick into some chick?” I snapped, trying to make shit sound like I didn’t care.
Drake nodded. “I agree. Shit’s premeditated, and I ain’t burning for it, so let’s just get high and have a good night.”
“Drake’s right.” Hail stretched out and reached into his pocket for his phone. “Let’s get some chicks over here. Tate needs to get off before he decides to go find Bianca and do all the fucked-up shit in his head to her.”
Tate shot him a wicked smirk, which made me want to punch walls. I remained cool and calm and watched as Drake pulled out some blunts.
“Powdered sugar. Sugar cubes. Sugar straws. Sugar blow. Sugar rush.” Drake nodded to the stash in front of him. “You can smoke, drink, eat, snort, or inject this shit. I’m told each does something different. I may have the names wrong. Just know sugar gets you fucked up.”
“Who’s the guy who made this? Was it De Luca?” I picked up one of the blunts and took a sniff. It smelled like vanilla ice cream.
“Nah. I heard it’s one of his men. There are four of them. The horsemen. They call the dude who created it Masters. He must be a fucking rocket scientist to come up with this shit though,” Drake said.
“Heard he’s an addict,” Tate added.
“Recovering,” Drake pointed out. “At least that’s what one of my sources said.”
“Dead if I get my fucking hands on him or anything he loves,” Hail mumbled from his chair. “Tate, find out if this Masters or De Luca have a girl or something. I’d like to pay her a visit.”
My guts boiled. There was never a reason to involve someone’s loved ones, but these assholes thrived on it.
“Dibs on her pussy first.” Tate laughed.
“Find me the information, and she’s yours,” Hail agreed.
What the fuck?
Tate seemed happy at the potential screams he could earn and proceeded to pull his phone out, thumbing through it. If I had to guess, he was already looking up these horsemen and trying to get info on them.
“When are we snatching Bianca?” I asked, wanting to get to the heart of shit.
Hail shrugged. “I don’t know. Soon. When the timing is right. I’m waiting on a few things. Figured we’d stir the pot in the meantime.”
And that was all he’d say, so I sat in silence, waiting for later when we’d be high on sugar and maybe he’d talk.
I needed information. Anything. I was tired of being the guy who sat on the sidelines and watched the kings with my girl. I wanted to play the field with her too.
* * *
I was fucked up.
My head spun, but I felt incredible, like a superhero.
“Stella sucks cock decent enough,” Hail called out to the room.
He’d invited people over again, and everyone was wasted. As much as I’d wanted to remain in control of my head and body, I knew it was over the moment I’d smoked the sugar straw or whatever bullshit it was.
“Inject it. Fucking elite,” Drake mumbled, staggering over to me and sitting down. “I think there are fucking rainbows coming out of that chick’s tits.”
I laughed and looked to where he was pointing at some cheerleader named Dara.
“You gotta see it, man. It’s intense as hell.”
“I’ve had enough, man. I need to stop.” I tried to push him away, but he snickered. I’d already drunk my weight in alcohol and smoked enough to last me a good week.
“Seriously, Hail is going to make you do it. You know he will. Just hold out your arm and get it over with.”
I sighed, knowing he was right.
“They say you can’t overdose on this?” I asked as I rolled up my sleeve.
“That’s the word on the street. It’s all about the sugar rush.”
“What about the crash?”
“What goes up, must come down,” he said as he flicked the new needle, making the white liquid even out. He wrapped a band around my arm and felt for a vein before he shoved the needle in.
I closed my eyes, waiting for the rainbows or goats or whatever the hell I was supposed to see.
“All done. Have fun,” Drake said seconds later, clapping me on the back.
I kept my eyes closed as heat swept slowly up my body. I felt light. Free. It added to what I was already feeling, making me want to giggle and try out my new wings.
I had wings, right?