PLOTTING and SCHEMING || D.R.

Chapter 4

***

I had heard their friends walk in the front door, knowing that was my cue to go down and introduce myself. I was excited to meet some more of my brother's friends, but inevitably nervous. I finished doing the clasp to my gold necklace, taking one last glance over my appearance in the mirror before heading down the stairs.

And just my luck, they were all sitting in the living room, almost like they were waiting to meet me.

"Fellas, this is my sister, Tierney."

They waved at me, kindly, from where they sat.

"That's Joey, this is Brooks, Vincent, and his girlfriend, Olive." Thatcher pointed them out to me. Olive stood, wheeling around the corner of the sofa to approach me.

"It is so nice to finally meet you!" She gives me a tight hug. I open my eyes, meeting Don's glare from behind her. He raises his eyebrows, as if to say, she's a handful.

Her breath reeked of vodka. Great. I was already so behind. Donald took a swig of his beer, reverting his attention back on his friends.

The guys had already dealt out their cards, which I didn't mind. I wasn't a big game-player anyway. I motioned Olive to come join me in the kitchen, where I helped myself to the tequila in their bar corner.

"Would you like something?" I offered her, and she nodded.

"What are you having?"

"Ah, just a tequila soda. Nothing special--maybe a little squeeze of lime." I smiled.

"Yum, sign me up!" She leaned against the counter. I grabbed two glasses, retrieved some ice, and made us drinks. I stuck two plastic straws—one in each cup—breaking up the ice. I handed over her drink and we walked back over to observe the game.

"Joey, do you have any sevens?" Vincent asked.

"Go fish." He replied, shaking his head. Joey took from the draw pile. I had taken a seat next to Donald, against the arm of the chair. He had patted the space next to him, scooting over to make room. He seems to be doing that a lot lately, but I didn't mind. I felt a little awkward, a little out of place. It helped. Thatcher was never usually that mindful.

Don turned, nudging my elbow to get my attention. He flicked his chin, shifting in his seat to show me his deck. He had a decent stack, consisting of two tens, one three, and two sixes. I looked up at him, with a crease in my eye, trying to show him my approval without giving anything away to the other guys. I nonchalantly look a smirking sip from my straw. He smiled back down at me, bumping his shoulder with mine.

Then suddenly, it was time to go.

Well, maybe not suddenly. The guys ended up getting into a fight about the game, stopped abruptly, and decided to play music as loud as it could go without bursting the speakers. Joey's girlfriend, Kylie, showed up. She was a nurse and had to stay a little longer with a patient, but claimed she would never miss a game night. It seemed like the most exciting part of their week.

I was a little relieved knowing I wasn't going to be the only girl. I had gotten to know Olive and Kylie a little bit better over the blaring music. The guys playing beer pong on the kitchen island. They were nice, a few years older than me, and we had a lot in common. Except I just knew they weren't fully genuine, perhaps we were slowly still getting there.

"So, Tierney. What's it been like, living here with those two dummies?" Olive pried. The whites of her eyes were a little less vibrant, from all the drinks she'd downed within the past hour. God knows if she'd started drinking before that.

"It's fine. It's only been a day or two." I stirred my straw, staring down into my empty glass.

"Did you meet Ressler before this?" Olive pressed. "You guys seem like, really familiar."

"Olive!" Kylie whacked the back of her head.

"Ow," Olive winced, holding her hand up to the blow. "What was that for?"

"No, actually." I looked up, meeting eyes with him again. It's like he knew we were talking about him. I rolled my eyes and he shook his head. "Only ever heard about him through Thatcher's grapevine."

"Huh..." Kylie watched the unspoken interaction between us. It was like she was doing mental math, struggling to put two and two together. "Seems like he's got an eye on you!"

"That's what I was trying to say, before you fucking whacked me!" Olive narrowed her eyes.

I sucked in my cheeks, biting down softly on them.

"You guys wanna take a shot?" Thatcher waddles up to his, one of his eyes halfway shut. His timing couldn't have been more perfect.

"Maybe you should mix in a water." I laugh at him. He grumbles.

Next thing I know, we all took shots and then piled into an SUV.

Vincent was driving us, only after a couple beers. Out of all of us, he was the most sober. Olive was in the front seat with him. There were only three seats in the back, Thatcher sat in the middle. To his left, Joey had Kylie on his lap. I was about to slide in, but then realized I was going to have to lap up. Donald was in the process of locking the front door to their apartment.

"You are not sitting your fat ass on top of me. No way, T. Lap up with Donny." Thatcher growled at me. "I will throw up if you do."

I felt Donald's presence behind me, and I must have looked alarmed because he placed his hand on my lower back. It always seemed like he was constantly frowning.

"It's okay," he said, but only enough for me to hear. I moved aside so he could sit down first. Once he was settled, he reached out, taking my purse and setting it next to his left foot. I reached up to grab the ceiling handle, pulling myself up and over. He guided me down onto his thighs before shutting the door. I was so nervous I almost didn't notice him holding my skirt down during my hoist.

I frantically tried to brush my hair to the side, so it wouldn't suffocate him, but he'd already beat me to it. I thought my heart was going to explode, any second now. These were the little things that impacted me, in more ways than one. Or it was still the alcohol talking.

"We good to go?" Vincent turned around, looking at us squished in the back. I couldn't even reply because of the compromising position I was currently in, physically and mentally.

"Aw, yeah. Turn this shit up!" Thatcher raised his fist once the radio came alive, punching the roof as Olive turned the volume dial. We reversed out of the lot.

Subtly, Don tried to move his weight underneath me.

"Am I crushing you?" I leaned my back against the door to look at him. Like I said, I was fat once. It's haunted me ever since.

"Shut up," he rolled his eyes. "I'm more nervous about getting pulled over."

"Oh right, Agent Ressler. I almost forgot." I quipped. He reached for my purse next to his foot, setting it on my lap. There was a gleam in his eyes, and I wasn't sure how to read it.