I rolled my eyes.
“What do you remember?” Brock prompted.
She glanced at Brock for a moment before casting her gaze floor. “Not much. I went to Trenton’s party with Rory and Trevor.” Trenton McGuire was Public’s center on the soccer team. He was the Brock of Public, but not, because no one was really like Brock. But I guess Trenton was as close as you could get. “It was just a typical party. Everyone was drinking. The next thing I knew, I was waking up in the hospital.” The color in her cheeks heightened, shame sparkling her eyes as she lifted them.
“You didn’t see Carter at the party?” Micah asked.
She shook her head, clutching the bottle of Gatorade. “That’s what is so strange. I didn’t. I still can’t believe I left with him. You know I would never do anything that stupid, Josie.”
“I know,” I assured, squeezing her hand.
“What was Carter doing at a Public party?” Micah questioned. “Definitely not his scene.”
“I think we know why he was there,” Brock mused. All eyes looked to Ainsley.
Fresh guilt stabbed into me. “He went intentionally to look for me.”
Grayson leaned forward in his chair, pressing his elbows into his knees. “Did you notice anyone from the Academy there?”
She nodded. “Yeah. But that’s normal. Academy crashes Public parties all the time, same with Public.”
That was true. “He could have had someone else slip her the drugs,” I suggested.
Brock agreed. “Likely. Carter needs to be extra careful. Getting someone else to do his dirty work would keep him out of the spotlight. If no one saw him at the party, then we couldn’t prove he was there.”
“The coward was probably waiting in the car,” Micah seethed, his voice dropping.
Ainsley unscrewed the top on her drink, taking a quick sip. “I don’t understand. Why would he drug me? What was the point?”
I wrung my fingers. “Me. He is sending me a message, letting me know there are other ways to hurt me if I don’t give him what he wants.”
Confusion descended over her features as she ran a hand through her sleep-tousled hair. “What the hell does he want from you, Josie?”
My eyes met Brock’s and held for a long moment before I turned back to Ainsley. “This is my fault. I’m sorry, Ainsley. I’m so sorry.” I didn’t want to involve her further in this mess. She’d been hurt enough.
“You can’t blame yourself. These are Carter’s choices, not yours,” she argued, getting fired up. I preferred to see her angry than sad.
“She’s right, Firefly.” Brock’s aqua eyes lingered on me.
“I won’t let him hurt the few people I care about to get to me,” I replied with determination, a fire spreading in my belly.
“If you remember anything, call Josie,” Brock instructed Ainsley.
She nodded. “Of course. I should call my mom before she sends out an APB” Setting down the plastic bottle, she reached around to check her pockets, still dressed in the clothes she wore last night. Her brows bunched together. “Shit, my phone. I can’t find it.”
Ainsley was notorious for losing things, especially when she was drinking. Alcohol made her forgetful and careless. Not that I was any better. “Are you sure?” I asked, a horrible feeling pitching into my gut.
“Yeah. I had it in my pocket. You know I never bring a purse to a party.” It was something we both had gotten accustomed to doing, leaving the handbags at home and keeping all our personal stuff on us. Less shit to lose at a party. “It’s probably sitting under a pile of pizza boxes at Trenton’s. Or it’s stuffed in between the couch cushions,” she speculated.
Those were all likely possibilities, but my gut feeling said her phone had been taken.
What the fuck would Carter want with Ainsley’s phone?
“Here…” I dug out my phone. “If you need to call or text your mom. I’m sure she is worried. I texted her last night to let her know you were staying at my house.”
“Thanks, Jos. For everything,” she rasped.
“Don’t thank me. None of this would have happened if it weren’t for me.”