Betwixt by Tara Bray Smith Page A

their mouths together. K.A. had pushed Neve’s dress up, his
     hand resting on the smooth bare skin of her upper thigh. The curve of Neve’s ass was visible, and the tiniest glimpse of underwear.
     At the sight of it Nix had felt a flash of something — lust? jealousy? — but not just for Neve. It had been the three of them
     up till then. Now Nix knew he would be excluded from the old grouping.
    Moth.
He snorted. And Morgan thought Nix was a stupid name.
    He had a few questions for the older boy. Though he was pretty sure he wasn’t going to like the answers, he was still determined
     to ask them.
    Finding him in the swirling dervish of Ondine’s first — and last, Nix was sure — party wasn’t so easy. First there was the
     mass of dancing bodies in the living room to get through, now the damp crowd around one of the unkickable kegs. He was heading
     toward a black bobbing head near the front door when a bright light invaded his peripheral vision. He almost dropped his beer.
     The haloed figure of Jacob Clowes pressed through the crowd, on the hunt, the light around him burning brighter than Nix had
     ever seen it. For a moment he was confused. Who could Jacob be looking for if not him? The fire was so bright he couldn’t
     think straight….
    Jacob was looking at someone, his heavy brow furrowed. Nix followed his gaze. At the end of it, in a dark corner, was Tim
     Bleeker. And on his lap — Nix blinked, not trusting his eyes — sat Neve Clowes.
    Her spine curled like a young unstaked vine as she swayed on Tim Bleeker’s knee. It was hard to tell if she was uncomfortable
     or just drunk. Probably a bit of both, he thought. Her arms clasped Bleek’s neck, but it looked to Nix as though she were
     hanging on so she didn’t fall to the floor, and the drug dealer had his face in her chest. Still, how the hell had she ended
     up on his lap in the first place? And where was K.A.? Nix caught a glimpseof Neve’s confused stare and guessed that she’d already sampled Bleek’s wares.
    Another hand worked its way up Neve’s narrow thigh. Asshole! Though that was not enough. Neve was barely sixteen, Bleek in
     his twenties. Nix didn’t know what to do. Should he find K.A.? Do something himself? Jacob was now striding in his daughter’s
     direction. The crowd seemed to split around him — almost everyone in Portland knew the man — and Nix saw Evelyn and Finn hurrying
     to keep up with him, Evelyn directing. She must have spotted Neve at the party and called Jacob. Evie, who used to babysit
     for the younger girl, had said more than once that Jacob Clowes was the closest thing she had to a father.
    Nix looked again at the slight blonde. She seemed so young and helpless, so oblivious to the storm that was gathering around
     her. He thought of the sweetpea girl, of his mother, of all the women he’d failed to protect. His breath tightened. He dug
     around in his pocket, calming himself with the fact that the familiar roll was still there.
    He started heading toward them, then felt a hand on his shoulder.
    “Hold up, son.” The voice was low but clear. “We need to talk.”
    Nix kept his eyes on the scene in front of him.
    “Yeah? About what?”
    “I think you know.”
    Nix gritted his teeth and turned to look at the speaker. He hadn’t needed to see Moth’s face to know it was the same man from
     the park — the same one he’d gotten his dust from earlier in the day. That the stranger seemed to be following him infuriated
     Nix, yet he did not walk away.
    “I gotta take care of something.”
    He started again toward Neve and Bleek. He had to help, had to make up for —
    Across the living room Jacob was untangling his daughter, shoving Bleek away. Neve slumped in her father’s arms, and when
     he caught her, Bleek — the coward — melted into the crowd of onlookers. Jacob folded his daughter to his chest, staring over
     her pale head. His eyes seemed to drill through the air and find Nix, whose right