Author's note: In my many years of being alive, I have been blackout drunk once. To this day, I cannot remember what happened that night, and that feeling of not knowing is scary as fuck. When I wrote Elena's experience at the cabin, I used my experience of being so drunk I couldn't remember 10 hours of my life. It's scary and also empowering because if you don't remember, it didn't happen, right? Elena comments on this a lot in this chapter, but I hope you, as a reader, understand that when you blackout it's like missing time. It's horrible. Anyways, thank you for reading my fic. I have so much fun writing this story. Thank you for the reviews- they mean the world and usually make my day brighter.

Chapter 20

Damon and I wasted time at the mall while waiting for Dom to lose my trail. When I told Damon that Dom expected me to stay in my house on the South Side, he called one of the strippers that used to work for his parties. She's taller than me, but we both have long brown hair and she gladly obliged- happy to get away from her asshole boyfriend. So Valentina is currently playing Elena Gilbert on the South Side. That took care of that problem. Damon has people watching his property around the clock. There's a reason we've been staying in his pool house, behind the main one, primarily for the extra barrier of protection.

However, we decided to stay at a hotel within walking distance of the warehouse. I can't get drunk because of my meet the next morning, and Damon has the alcohol tolerance of a KGB agent, but convenience won out. Being so close the party was a plus, but it's also equidistant to tomorrow's meet- which is in a neighboring district.

For the purposes of our mission, Damon left a couple of hours ago to make sure the party was set up properly. He had to instruct the bouncers of where to go, the strippers of where to dance and help with the D.J. set up and electronics. Not to mention, the open bar, which was fully stocked. Damon usually likes to make money off his parties, and this one certainly seems like it'd bring in enough to buy another Camaro for him to rebuild. He's charging a cover, but that's it. Maybe to help me out? More money for teenagers to buy Chirow?

I made sure Damon wouldn't know what I looked like. I didn't let him see what I picked out to wear because I knew that when it came down to it if Damon saw me selling he'd try to stop me.

I'm in the suite getting ready. I found a deep red wig with long waves and decided to call myself Scarlett Romanoff. I'm a fan of Marvel movies and this was the first name that I came up with that didn't make me sound like a stripper. The wig was surprisingly expensive and the least trashy of the ones we found. I think Damon preferred the short pink wig. In the end, he doesn't know what I chose because I refused to show him.

While I forced Damon to get us food, I found a black leather mini cargo skirt, with plenty of pockets, and a black long-sleeved crop top that crossed in the middle. I wore it with platform military lace-up boots, for comfort.

I was planning on just carrying around the backpack Dom gave me, but while I was shopping for a wig and clothes, Damon got me a designer mini backpack. He gave me the backpack at lunch, and honestly, part of me suspected he slipped a tracker in the lining of the backpack- but I didn't really care. The bag is cute too, too bad the purposes in which I'm using it for will forever taint it.

Damon ate a burger while I ate cheese fries and drank soda. "In order for this to work toward our advantage, you need to sell to Chase, Noah, and Frederick without getting recognized."

"I know," I replied, dunking a cheese fry in ranch dressing.

"They'll know it's you, Elena," Damon observed.

"Trust me, Damon," I say. "They'll see fake hair and boobs."

He shrugged his shoulders. "If you get into trouble…"

"Scream at the top of my lungs or text you."

"Why do I have a bad feeling about tonight?" He asked, more to himself than to me.

I sighed and moved to sit on his lap so I could lean on his shoulder. "Because bad things usually happen to us."

He lightly kissed my lips. "Please don't come tonight. I can have other people sell for you."

I took another fry, dunked it in ranch, and ate it. "I don't trust anyone else, and Domenico would know. Remember, Damon, you hate me. I'm not at that party- Scarlett Romanoff is."

As I leaned on his chest, I could feel his deep chuckle. "Scarlett Romanoff? Are you an Avenger too?"

"Uh-huh," I muttered. "And later, I might let you play with Scarlett."

"Hmmm," he kisses my bottom lip sweetly. "Might take you up on that."

I know Damon doesn't like the idea of me being there with Chase, Noah, and Frederick, but if I unload all the Chirow there, I won't have to worry about it the rest of the weekend. I mean, if worse comes to worst, I could sell to athletes at other schools tomorrow morning, but I'd rather not have to resort to selling drugs to athletes- I felt bad enough as it is.

I lean toward the mirror at the hotel, checking my eye makeup. I applied copious amounts of charcoal eyeliner and jet black mascara, giving my eyes a smokey effect. With the wig and the outfit, I look like a high-class hooker about to attend Comic-Con.

I lean close to the bathroom mirror and apply a neutral pink lipstick. I pop my lips and clean up my application job with my index finger then cap the lid and put it in the purse Damon bought me.

The moment I open the purse, I curse.

Really filthy language escapes my lips because I am in an absolute rage. About two-thirds of the drugs Domenico gave me are gone and replaced with an envelope of cash. I open the envelope and check, but I have no doubt Damon left me more than enough to cover the drugs he took.

I knew he'd do this. I'm surprised he left me any to sell. I'm not dying to be a drug dealer. This wasn't my life's ambition and the moment I find a way out, I'm taking it. My job got a lot easier, but I didn't want to involve Damon. I told him because I needed support, I didn't want him to buy my problem.

When I put the thick envelope of money back, I see a small pink can of mace. This is being supportive. This is saying, I trust you, and here's something to help you in your endeavor.

I take one last look at myself before I leave the suite- yup, I do not look like Elena Gilbert. The stress of the past couple of weeks has taken its toll on my weight. The skirt is a full size down from where I'm normally at, but thanks to running, my legs are lean and still have lines of muscle. I twist the side. Deep red hair that falls to my ass, smokey eyes, a stretchy crop top, mini skirt, and boots that will hurt when I stick it up Damon's ass. I'm ready.

With my mini backpack slung over both shoulders, I leave the suite Damon booked us and head for the elevators. My stomach is in knots. Damon and I tried to run through what I'd say at the party to potential customers- he had plenty of advice on the subject. I try to pretend that I'm acting- that I'm on the stage playing a part. I am not Elena Gilbert, I'm Scarlett Romanoff, badass, female entrepreneur.

Once I leave the hotel, I walk about a mile down the road to the warehouse. The warehouse was once a textile factory that went out of business long ago. Because it's located on a large plot of land, a lot of people rent it out for parties. The interior is completely vacant and can be used for any event. The steel beams and old windows give it a unique feel. Damon's never used this property before because it's not located far enough away from Mystic Falls. He told me over lunch as he showed me pictures of the property that when he doesn't do a party at the Salvatore mansion, he does them at an abandoned factory on property his Dad owns. Giuseppe does own most of Mystic Falls, he even owns the hotel we're currently staying in.

Per Damon's suggestion, I arrived late. The parking lot is so full, that cars are parked on the lawn and up and down the street. I pay the cover to a bouncer who places the money I gave him in a black lockbox and walk into the party. The party is massive- the size of four school basketball courts. It's dark except for white lights strung around the steel beams. Loud remixes with a beat played over the sound system, while people dance. A DJ wearing headphones over a baseball cap is illuminated in purple, standing on a platform stage. Dancers in scantily clad clothing, spin, and twist to the music on raised platforms. Velvet drapes divide areas of the party. There's a gaming area, a bar, and an area to lounge.

I make my way into the party, dancing as I go- trying hard to not be me. "I like your boots," a familiar voice from behind me says. I spin around and sure enough, it's Rafe, back from California.

"Thank you!" I shout over the music, wanting to leave his presence as quickly as possible after the many text messages he sent me.

He grabs hold of my upper arm and leans toward me. I expect him to comment on California or the things he texted. "You're not from around here, are you?"

Is he joking?

"No," I lie.

"I'm not either," he says. "Name is Rafe; I'm from California and rowed crew for my old school."

Clearly, he's not joking. He lists his qualities like he's reciting his resume.

"I could take you some time. With your arms," he squeezes my bicep. "I think you'd be really good and we'd have fun."

I cannot believe I fell for this guy…well not really fell, but I can't believe I went on a date with him. He kissed me. We worked together. We went on the date he's describing. He said he was in love with me. But he doesn't recognize me with a wig on. I decide to use this opportunity to my advantage.

"Why not have fun now?"

No wonder he can't recognize me, he hasn't looked away from my boobs. I release myself from his grip and lean into his ear. "It's fun to forget who we are, right? You're not the guy from California and I'm not a competitive athlete. Even just for a night."

He nods in understanding. Around us, people are drinking and laughing, yet somehow, Rafe's face turns somber like what I said really resonated him. The asshat.

"There's so much pressure to be perfect."

I reach into the pocket of my skirt and pull out cellophane with the XP symbol on it and place it in the palm of his hand. "Chirow will blow your mind," I say in my most seductive voice. "It's okay to not be perfect sometimes."

He opens his palm, his eyes widen. I can tell by his expression that he's not a stranger to the white powder. "Can I get a couple more bags?"

I tell him the price and he hands me cash. We're not in the middle of everything, but we're in a location where people can see that I'm the person to go to.

I place the cash in my bag. Rafe points to a deep purple chaise lounge with an acrylic side table next to it. An empty class with a lime at the bottom indicates someone just left the spot. "Will you do a line with me?"

I shake my head. "I don't mix business with pleasure, but maybe some other time," I say with a wink.

It's been ten minutes and I already want to take a shower. Kate and Jessica standing in a corner with drinks in hand. I find a guy I don't recognize that's standing near them. From the way he's standing, he's trying to get their attention, but they're oblivious. He must be an underclassman. Actually…I look around the area of the party I'm at, there are a lot of underclassmen here. It looks like almost the whole school is here- and schools from neighboring towns.

I move toward the sophomore and make a deal of sweeping my hair over my shoulders before opening my bag when I drop my phone that's sitting in the front pocket. It falls at the sophomore's feet. He takes a look at me, picks up the phone and hands it to me. "Oh my God, how foolish of me! Bless your heart."

Where the fuck did the thick southern accent come from?

I go with it- it does do the trick of getting Kate and Jessica's attention.

"Who are you?" Kate asks, giving me a long look. "I haven't seen you at one of these parties before."

The sophomore seems to take the hint and moves to a different group of people. I move closer so it's just Jessica, Kate, and myself standing in a corner. "Just moved to Falls City but heard about this party from a cousin. It sure is big."

Once again, where does this accent come from?

"You go to Falls City High School? They're cheerleading team is phenomenal," Kate gushes. "Oh my God, I love your bag."

I smile silkily. These girls wanted to get me out of Mystic Falls— they drew on a blow-up sex doll version of me. I have no problem taking advantage of their stupidity. "You know what helped us in competitions?"

"What?" Jessica asks, interested.

I remove one of the straps of my backpack from my shoulder and open the bag. I show her the cellophane bag with the XP on it. "It's called Chirow and it gave me so much energy and pep before our competitions," I explain. Jessica's eyes widen. "So much pep that I had to blow off steam the night before the competition if you know what I mean."

I don't know what I mean. I just want to unload my product.

"Who did you blow?" She whispers conspiratorially.

I look around the room. "Do you know Chase Worthington and Noah Scott?"

She nods vigorously, her curly blond hair bouncing with every nod. I shrug in reply with a wink. I sell both Jessica and Kate a few bags of Chirow each and give them the number of my burner phone in case they ever need more.

I pretend to see a friend by waving to someone who is not a friend so I can excuse myself to leave. Thanks to Kate's big mouth, people find me and within the next half hour, I'm able to sell over a third of my stash. I'm confronted by a large kid with orange crumbs all down his front. He's holding a gaming controller in one hand and his friends sitting on the couch facing a large flatscreen are cursing at him for stepping away. "Do you have that stuff with the X and P on it?"

My brows furrow. "How old are you?"

"Does it matter?"

"I have what you want, so yes, it does matter if you want what I'm selling."

"Eighteen," he lies.

I laugh and start to walk away. Those are the rosy baby cheeks of a freshman. Damon really did invite everyone.

"No, wait!" He yells after me. "I'll pay whatever."

That gets my attention.

I walk back toward him. "Answer me honestly, and I'll consider selling to you."

He nods, eager to get something that'll give him enough energy to stay up past his bedtime.

"How did you hear about the party?"

He frowns like he wasn't expecting that question. "Word of mouth and text messages. It was all over school."

"Who's running the party?"

The kid shrugs. "Dunno, just heard there was going to be an awesome party with free booze, in a warehouse off the freeway."

He tugs at his jeans, pulling them up over his belly. "Where do you go to school?"

"St. James' Episcopal School in Richmond."

Huh.

I turn to leave the area and get a drink.

"Wait, aren't you going to sell to me?"

"Nope!"

I hear a loud groan and a swear word but I don't care. Sell to cheerleaders that actively planned my demise, sure. Sell to a cute little Freshy? No- I can't rationalize that.

I'm walking along the perimeter of the party, deciding where to go next after I get a drink and pause, seeing something I knew I might see but was hoping I wouldn't. Ainsley is hanging on Damon's shoulder while Damon talks to Chase.

I know I shouldn't.

I know it's stupid.

I know I pushed him to do this, but the moment I see Ainsley kiss Damon on the cheek and rest her head on his shoulder, I see red.

I can't let Damon see me, but I can do other things.

I move closer so I can listen in on their conversation. "You couldn't play in the game tonight?" Damon asks, good-naturedly. "MFHS lost- I had money on that game."

Chase punches Damon in the shoulder. "Sorry, me getting kicked off the team lost you money."

"Oh, I still made money," Damon laughs.

I cover my mouth with my hand to stifle a laugh. Only Damon would bet against Mystic Falls High School.

"If Elena Gilbert hadn't gotten me kicked off the team, we would've won."

"Ugh," Ainsley groans. "She's such a know-it-all, bitch. No wonder she doesn't have any friends."

I've….heard worse. Much worse.

"To be fair, she does know it all," Damon says. "She is valedictorian and happens to have the highest SAT score of anyone in the last twenty years graduating from Mystic Falls High School."

Ainsley attempts to get Damon to be more physically attentive, but he easily brushes her off. "How do you know that?"

"I know things."

Chase takes a drink of the clear liquid in his glass. "Damon's tortured her since we were Freshman. Know thine enemy, am I right?"

Damon's eyes fix on something beyond Chase, toward the front entrance. He looks at his watch, and then, like nothing happened, mutters and agreement to what Chase said.

I need a drink.

I walk back toward the bar and order a gin and tonic. I lean against the bar, squeeze the lime wedge into my drink, and take a sip while scanning the room. I could go to the dance floor and find a few customers; I could play pool or darts and get some business from the group that's hanging out over there. But I really want to just sell my stash so I can leave.

I'm looking for a specific group of people. I can unload the rest of the product if I find out where these people are. Based on word of mouth, I'm able to sell four more grams until I find Ford.

Ford is my in.

I seductively gaze at his large form, defined by hours of football practice. "So how does it feel to literally have to carry the team on your back?" I ask, referring to the fact that he's the best player on the football team since Chase and Noah got kicked off.

He regards me with heated interest and shrugs good-naturedly. "Some girl makes claims and my friend has to suffer the consequences."

Yeah, I don't feel bad about this at all.

"Ever since the hashtag me-too movement, girls just think they can accuse anybody of anything," I mutter, faking disgust. "If we're all equal, we should all be put under the same scrutiny."

Ford points at me like I'm the chosen one. "Yes, exactly!"

He guides me to a secluded lounge area, complete with deep, plush couches and an acrylic table in the middle. I go further, digging into everything I don't believe. "Just because a guy is accused of sexual assault, doesn't mean it happened. If the girl wants it, the guy just knows. Sometimes non-verbal communication is easy to pass off as not communication. Consent doesn't have to be verbalized."

Ford looks like he found a unicorn among a sea of sea-horses. He pulls Noah and Chase before me.

Jackpot.

"Listen to this girl, Noah," Ford says. "She's like an all-knowing, red-headed wizard."

I wiggle my eyebrows. "That's me, the Ariel of the Underworld."

They all laugh— and fucking none of them recognize me.

None of them.

Ford pulls me next to him and wraps his arm over my shoulders like I'm a pot of gold he just discovered. "Say to them what you said to me…what's your name?"

"Scarlett," I reply. "I was saying that just because a girl accuses a guy of wrongdoing, doesn't mean it's true. So often we encounter girls who 'say' something happened when really they're just wanting attention. These people want equal rights, well they should look in the mirror and remember that equal rights apply to all situations."

Yes, I feel sick for what I'm implying, but my actions will prove otherwise.

Noah nods in agreement from the couch, but he looks somber.

"My boy Noah is pissed because he couldn't play tonight," Ford explains.

"You know…" I add. "If you ever feel down, I have something that will make you feel so fucking good- you'll forget about all of your troubles."

"Where are you from?" Chase asks, genuinely curious, sitting next to Noah on the couch.

I'm honest because I need him to believe at least part of what I'm selling. "New York."

Technically, I know I'm right. It doesn't stop me from using it to my advantage.

Ford sits on the couch opposite Chase and Noah and pulls me next to him. I take a bag of Chirow out of the pocket of my skirt. "Keys?"

Ford takes the car keys out of his pocket. I dip the key into the product and bring it up for him to try. He inhales and wipes his nose. "Holy fuck!"

"Right?"

I offer Chase the bag and he too dips his key in and inhales.

"How much do you have?"

"I'll sell you an eight ball," I reply. "I'm around if you ever need me."

He grins the asshole. Chase buys four grams, which is about an eight ball. Noah and Ford also buy a few grams each. They're so busy mixing coke with alcohol, I leave the moment strippers come over to entertain them.

I take a break by the pool table and play a round with someone from St. James'. It's nice to know that this person who's wearing a very nice leather jacket and has a full sleeve of tattoos, has no clue who I am. I can make anything up about myself. With Jessica and Kate, I was a southern cheerleader. With Chase and his group of assholes, I'm an ignorant set of boobs, and to these guys, I'm playing with, I am Scarlett, a professional snowboarder who goes to school in the summer because all my competitions take place during the winter season. I am fun and flirty and so not myself. After a round, I leave the area, much to Owen's chagrin, who invites me to a bar on the other side of Falls City. I wiggle my eyebrows and pretend to consider before walking away like I'm walking down a catwalk.

I continue to make my way through the party until I feel a hand at my waist. "If I knew you were going to buy this wig, I would've never let you leave the hotel."

I spin around, feeling Damon's warm sure hands on my hips, caging me in. "You took a very large portion of my product."

He doesn't look the least bit offended or intimidated. "I paid an incredibly fair price for it."

I raise my eyebrows. "While undermining someone you claim to care about and trust."

Damon does that thing with his eyes that causes me to melt beneath his smoldering gaze- he's looking at me as though I'm the only persons within a thousand-mile radius, and yet, I want to knee him in the balls. If explained my internal conflict out-loud, I honestly think he'd understand.

"You know, there are rooms I can take you to," he mutters, leaning into my neck. "We could distract each other for the next hour and a half."

Damon's hands dip beneath my crop top. "I'm only worth ninety minutes?"

Damon pushes me against a nearby pillar, blocking me from the view of everyone else at the party. "You and I both know I'd spend a lot longer than ninety minutes on you."

"However."

"However, I need you to do me a favor."

I look up at him and without a seconds hesitation utter. "What?"

"It's not going to be easy," he huffs.

"I don't care— what is it?"

He sighs, caressing my sides with each breath. "I need you to get Noah, Chase, Frederick, and Ford's car keys."

I smirk and wiggle my eyebrows. "Done."

Damon's eyes widen in surprise, I can tell by his reaction that he didn't intend to involve me, but I'm grateful he did. Damon flips me around while holding my waist. I press my palms against the pillar for support. "How many grams do you need to sell?" He whispers from behind me.

"Eighty."

I feel the absence of his warmth as he takes a step back. "Quite impressive for someone who's been here for less than an hour."

I turn into him and let him press his lips to mine. "You could fuck me against this wall and I wouldn't protest."

Damon groans, like it pains him to let me go. He lazily runs fingers through my hair. "Can you get the keys?"

I frown, he knows me better than that. "In five minutes flat."

"Elena," he groans.

"Time me," I mutter. "You know how competitive I am."

"Except you aren't competing with anyone."

I reach into my backpack and pull out thirty grams of coke. "I can unload this, get Noah, Chase, Fred, and Ford's keys within the next ten minutes."

I hike my skirt up and walk back to where the assholes were sitting like I own the place. Noah, Chase, and someone I don't recognize is sitting on a large, kidney-shaped couch with a clear acrylic coffee table in front of them. Ford is sitting in a deep purple chair across from them. The only person that's missing is Frederick. I don't know where he is, but I'm sure he'll show in a few minutes. Instead of walking directly to them, I accidentally bump into the girl hanging beside Ford's chair and fall on him. I try to stand, but trip again. "I am so sorry," I proclaim. "I think I've had one too many of those Jolly Rancher shots. Have y'all tried them? They are so so yummy."

I sit up on Ford's lap but move to the coffee table. I sit in the middle, knocking a couple of bottles of beer on the floor and wiping off the coke before I sit. "Hey!" Noah yells, seeing his precious powder fall to the ground.

"Oh my god, I am so sorry. I thought that was dirt."

"You just sold me that!"
"I know and I feel so bad about that," I explain as sweetly as possible. "Why don't I make it up to you?"

He looks doubtful until I open up my pocket and pull out three bags. I toss one to Chase and one to Ford. Then I lean back and take the third and pour it in a line over my exposed belly. My backpack digs into my back as I lay down, but I don't dare take it off. "This one's for you," I say, pointing my index finger at the line I formed on my stomach.

Noah's smile grows, he moves from the couch and crouches down next to me. With a smirk at his friends, he leans down and inhales the line I made for him. When he's done, I reach out my arm and he pulls me up. "Whoa! Head rush!"

I plop down next to Chase on the couch. I lean over and take the beer he's holding in his other hand. Grinning, I take a drink, and then point the mouth of the bottle at Chase. "You're Chase Worthington," I twist around and point the bottle at Noah. "And you're Noah Scott." I then point the bottle at Ford. "And you're forced to carry the team because these two got in trouble for acting like men."

"See? She gets it!"

I shrug and lean over so I can place my hand on Chase's chest. "How the fuck can anyone say no to this?"

Then I lean over Noah and run my hands down his chest. The move makes me want to vomit. "Or no to this?"

Then I lean back and pout. "I have to get back to work, fellas," I say, pretending to make an effort to stand.

Chase pulls me back. "Ford, text the rest of the team."

I look at my watch- I have four minutes left but decide to wait, curious. "Fred's parents involved the police yesterday," Chase mutters to Noah while we're waiting. "They need to collect insurance. There's an investigation and everything."

"Fuck," Noah says, rubbing his face.

"What happened?" I ask.

"Someone burned down our friend's hunting cabin."

I place my hands over my mouth in shock. "That's awful."

There's a short pause in the conversation before I have to ask. "But why are you acting like it's bad they reported to the police? Shouldn't they be brought to justice?"

"We were there hours before," Chase explains conspiratorially. "And we'd rather people didn't know what happened there."

Me. He's talking about what they did to me. I close my eyes and try to disguise the cold shudder that runs down my spine. Thankfully, football players arrive. There's so much male ego around me, I feel claustrophobic. I'm about to ask for a paper bag to breathe in when Noah and Chase talk up the product I'm selling.

I don't remember what Frederick looks like, having blacked out my experience with him, but he might as well be wearing a name tag because he is how everyone has described. An entitled dick. "Can I do it off you?" He asks after we exchange goods for money. "I hear it tastes much sweeter coming from your body."

Damon owes me— huge.

I tilt my head to the side and suck on my lower lip, popping it out seductively. My eyes slowly track his sneakers, to his ugly as fuck Wranglers, to the Timberwolf football jersey, to his floppy child of corn blonde hair. He's broad but not tall and looks every bit the Sophomore. "You can't handle me."

He takes a step forward. I play with the hem of his jersey. "I don't play with junior varsity players. They're the babies of high school football. I doubt your balls have dropped."

My head cocks to the side, observing everyone's reaction. They groan at my insult but no one is trying to stop me.

"Plus I heard you bought your way onto the team. Did you pay extra for the jersey?"

Hoots and hollers echo throughout our area. Frederick pushes me onto the couch, but unable to take any more bullshit, I pop back up and stand right in front of Freddy. "What are you going to do, whore?" He spits.

Clever.

I do a move that only Damon would appreciate.

I tilt my head to the side, place one and on his right shoulder and one on his left. I lean in and whisper loudly enough for everyone to hear. "Bench you."

Then I knee him in the balls- hard. He falls to the couch he pushed me on.

I know JV players are used to a level of razzing, so other players cheer me on. I walk away with the wave of my fingers, unbothered by the comments from people who do not think what I did was deserved.

Damon finds me within seconds and pulls me into an area where we're secluded behind black velvet curtains. Before he can say anything, I reach into the pockets on my skirt and pull out four sets of keys. "How long was I?"

"Twelve minutes," he mutter, taking the keys from my hand.

"Liar."

He smirks, hiding how long I was really gone.

I feel defensive. I haven't lost my touch. "I would've been faster if I didn't sell everything. There was a line, I had to get change- it was a whole thing. A junior tried to pay in quarters."

Damon's eyebrows raise in surprise. "Don't be too good at your job or Moretti will never let you go."

There are unspoken words there- like the fact that he'll probably never let me go unless we figure out a way to get out.

"What now?"

Damon puts the keys in his pockets. "Keep an eye on them- text me if anyone leaves."

"Done."

He takes a deep breath like he's preparing for battle, and maybe he is for all I know and leans over to kiss me on the cheek. "Keep the mace in one of your skirt pockets. Just in case."

Maybe we're both preparing for battle.

Then he's gone, so fast that for a second, I doubt he was ever here. I make sure they stay where they're at by sending strippers over to their table with more beer.

After a half an hour, Damon finds me and gives me the keys. "Need me to return them?"

I look at the keys, trying to remember who belongs to whom. "We're going to do the Bel Air Sunrise."

"An oldie but a goodie," Damon says, texting the D.J. to play a remix of Summertime by The Fresh Prince and D.J. Jazzy Jeff.

As Uncle John taught me, this move works on any Will Smith song that was released in the summer. The music comes on and everyone screams. I stride back over to the group and dance on the clear acrylic table. "I love this song!"

I dance and sing with my arms up in the air, getting Noah and Chase to dance and sing with me, then about halfway through the song, I fall into Ford, who stumbles into Frederick. I straighten and laugh. "You're like a puppy," I giggle, leaning in and patting Frederick on the cheek.

Annoyed, Frederick pushes me and I stumble until Chase picks me up by my armpits. "I think you've had too much to drink."

I bounce away from him, singing. "Never!" At the top of my lungs. "Jolly Ranchers for all!" I say with a wave of my hand like I'm Oprah. "You get a shot! You get a shot! You get a shot! You're all getting SHOTS!"

I dance around other players, shaking my hips, moving away from the football players.

Miami comes on and everyone cheers. It's the result of playing two beloved party songs by the same artist. A bit of nostalgia works every time.

I easily get lost in the crowd and find Damon where I left him. I wiggle my empty fingers to show I returned all of them, but do it in a way to convince him to dance with me. He clasps my hands and we move to the music. Damon's secret is that he loves to dance- it's an unspoken secret between us because he's known for spending parties sitting sullenly in a corner, running the event like a king in a medieval court. I know better- you can't have moves like that and not love to dance.

The moment the song ends, I hear explosions coming from two locations. One sounds like pops in the air on the fourth of July. The other- an actual explosion. At first, people scream and a few go to the exit, but the DJ announces a surprise fireworks display in the back of the building. Unable to resist pretty fire in the sky, most everyone drunkenly moves to the back to watch.

Damon holds me tight, preventing me from going toward the firework display. That's when I hear it- another explosion. This one coming from the parking lot. Sirens sound in the distance, but you wouldn't know it with the firework display going on.

"Have you had anything?"

"Just a beer and a gin and tonic."

"Come here," he says, leading me to a side room. It looks like a break room with lockers and a coffee machine. Damon pours me a cup and instructs me to drink it as fast as possible.

"Are you sure you sold everything?"

I search my pockets and my purse. "Yeah, it's all gone. What's going on?

"You'll see."

The sounds of sirens coming closer and closer.

"I'm not going to have to bail you out of jail, am I?"

Damon scoffs. "You know me better than that."

"Cops are coming and you're just standing here- Damon you could get in serious trouble. There are underage kids drinking and doing drugs- drugs I sold them," I might be panicking.

"Who do you think called them?"

I'm left in confusion as Damon moves to a window and peers out.

And then, it happens.

Cops in blue uniforms burst into the warehouse from the parking lot.

Damon and I move out of the break room and into the main room, hidden by one of the many curtains that drape the walls.

The cop looks around the warehouse. "Who's in charge of this party?"

The only people left are people hired to work for the party. "Noah Scott," the bouncer proclaims.

"Where is he?"

"In the back," one of the strippers say. The fireworks have stopped so people who haven't replied to what's going on, come back into the party. A few ask why the music has stopped. One person is very angry that his bong was destroyed in the panic. More cops swarm in from the front entrance and arrest people who lingered and were too drunk to run- but something tells me that's what Damon wanted.

"Come on," Damon whispers in my ear. "You're not going to want to miss this."

With his hand firmly clasped in mine, he guides me to the parking lot. We stand with a gathering crowd. Firemen have already started extinguishing a burning car- which explains the explosion we heard earlier.

Kate runs out screaming. "That's my car!" She crumples to her knees in the middle of the lot, crying. "My parents are going to kill me."

I lean into Damon, chuckling.

"Is Chase Worthington here?" One of the cops asks.

People who haven't been arrested or are currently being hauled out in cuffs have started moving away from the fireworks display to outside. They're gathering around Kate's burning car while cops investigate.

Chase walks out, looking confused as ever. "What's going on?"

The cop takes out a piece of paper. "We came with a warrant to search your car- please open it for us."

Chase shrugs, like he has nothing to hide, reaches into his pocket and pulls out his keys.

"Earlier this morning, the department was tipped off that a Chase Worthington is responsible for the fire on the Elmwood estate," The officer explains.

"I didn't do anything!"

Chase looks as though he's going to protest, but the officer pops open the trunk of his car. Inside are empty bottles of liquid fire, three rifles that could only be taken from a hunting lodge, a shirt with black smudges, and a hoodie I recognize. I look up at Damon, who winks. The officer takes out his cuffs. "Chase Worthington, you are arrested for committing arson…" He continues to read Chase his Miranda Rights. "I didn't do anything!" Chase yells, trying to fight the cuffs but his attempts are futile.

"The security footage of you wearing that sweater, lighting the house on fire say otherwise."

I'm impressed Damon did all this tonight. "Wait," he mouths.

There's more?

A few cops gather. "There are underage drinking and drug use here," one of them says to one of the cops. He turns to address the crowd. "Who's responsible for this party? I can pull you in one by one for questioning, or we can take care of this right here."

One of the bouncers steps forward. I squeeze Damon's hand- surely he's going to be caught. "Noah Scott," the bouncer says. "Hired me to be a bouncer this morning- paid in cash. He assured me that everyone was over the age of twenty-one. I was just supposed to take the money and watch the door."

"Find him," one of the police officers says to his subordinate.

More cops enter the party and continue rounding up people. The area has been blocked off. Smarter students left five minutes ago, but many are drunk and slow on the uptake.

Noah is dragged outside by one of the officers. "What's going on?"

The officer that interrogated Chase steps forward. People who are waiting for a chance to get to their car are standing and watching. Kids drinking will get a slap on the wrist— what's going on before they is so much worse. The cop takes another step forward. "According to this man, you organized this party, where underage drinking and drug use are going on. Kids as young as fifteen, using illegal substances."

Noah scoffs. "I had nothing to do with this- this is a Damon Salvatore Party."

"Take off your wig," Damon whispers in my ear. No one is paying attention to us and we're far enough back in the dark that no one will notice.

I pull it off and stuff it into my backpack. Damon helps me quickly take off the wig cap. He runs his fingers through my hair and helps me stuff everything in my bag.

"Let's go." He whispers as we walk through the crowd of people to the front.

"I'm Damon Salvatore," Damon says confidently.

The cop approaches him. "He's saying you're responsible for this party."

Damon oozes confidence as he stands before the crowd. This is the Prince of Darkness, the ruler of Mystic Falls High School. He's not just speaking to the cops, he's talking to the school, daring them to defy him. They may be pissed their party ended so early, but they had a good time before it was interrupted. "My parties are epic," Damon pauses and looks around. "This one is…" he pauses dramatically like he thinks it's lame. "…okay. I'm just here to pick up my girlfriend."

He tugs me to him and wraps his arms possessively around my waist. Gasps and sighs resound from the crowd.

"What the fuck?" Ainsley yells.

Damon gives her one look that puts her in her place- a look that says, you are beneath me.

These people haven't seen me for over a week, and when they saw me last, I was on trial. My personal life was spewed before the whole student body thanks to Noah and his family. Damon is sending a very clear message. Elena Gilbert is my girlfriend- Don't fuck with her.

"This is your party, Damon," Noah argues. "I didn't throw this!"

Damon shrugs. "My parties don't get shut down by cops."

I laugh into his bicep.

Noah runs his hands through his hair- he looks maddening. "I didn't pay for any of this, I just got here!"

One of the strippers, dressed in a sparkly black mini dress and wearing dangerously high heels speaks up. "Noah Scott paid me in cash- said he didn't want his dad to find out."

This is amazing, I lean further into Damon's shoulder to hide my laughter.

"If he has nothing to hide, search his car," Damon suggests with a shrug of his shoulders.

"Yeah, fine," Noah complies, thinking there's nothing incriminating in his car. The cop doesn't miss him wiping white powder from his nose. Not looking too good for Noah.

He tosses the cops his keys. The cops open his trunk and look in. He pulls out handfuls of drugs…lots of drugs with the XP symbol on it. This is what Damon did with the stash he took from me.

The cop nearest to Noah arrests him for running a party with underage drinking and drug use. Also, a high quantity drug possession charge and I think the cop said something about prostitution- what did Damon do? He's had a busy week.

Suddenly, two more bombs go off in the distance, where two cars were parked in the middle of the field just outside the property. Huh. Damon protects me from the blast by wrapping his arms around me and turning me away. The officers are asking what's going on and demanding to know more about the party while the fire department, who just finished putting out Kate's car start working on extinguishing the fires in the field.

It isn't until fifteen minutes later that fireworks are found in Frederick's trunk. Same fireworks found in the remains of Kate's blown up car. A tip that came from the DJ, who said he saw Frederick leave the party when he was having a smoke break. The DJ also further confirms Noah's involvement by showing the officer an email Noah sent regarding the playlist and money.

Cops arrest underage kids who are high or drunk, but thanks to the coffee Damon forced down my throat, I'm in the clear. By the end of the night, Damon and I walk to his car. "This was your plan?"

Damon is almost angry. "Did you think for one second I'd let them get away with what they did to you? They haven't even begun to suffer."

"What if I told you that I didn't care- that I didn't remember so I'd rather let it all go."

Damon grabs my wrist, twists it, and slams me against a car door. "You don't care because you don't value your life, but I care, Elena. I care because you are my life and without you I have nothing."

I am breathless.

Unable to speak.

Unable to utter a word.

"They'll come after you," I manage to whisper.

"And we'll fight them together."