Year Two (Kingmakers, #2)

by Sophie Lark

I shove my way through the crowd and grab her by the arm. “Excuse me,” I say to the pitcher. He shakes his head, coming out of his trance. “Hey!” he says. “We were talking!” “She’s gonna talk you right into Cook County jail,” I inform him. “She’s sixteen years old.” The pitcher’s jaw drops. Sabrina scowls at me, an expression that only manages to make her look more beautiful. My cousin is fucking dangerous. “Let go of me,” she says coolly. “Not a fuckin’ chance. You’re gatecrashing.” “Oh, please,” she tosses her long, dark hair back over her shoulder. “You’re letting anybody in here. That dude gave up three home runs to the Sox on Thursday.” I keep dragging her toward the exit. “Yup. Everybody’s welcome except you.” “Why not?” “ ‘Cause I don’t want Uncle Nero to cut my fucking head off.” Now Sabrina’s really pissed. “Are you serious?” “As serious as antibiotic resistance.” “Miles!” “Sabrina!” I’ve taken her all the way outside to the ivy-choked alleyway next to the factory. “Look, I get it. You hate being treated like a kid, and you just want to dance and have a couple drinks and make those dudes embarrass themselves for your amusement. On a normal night, I wouldn’t have a problem with it. But I’ve got a lot riding on this and I can’t keep an eye on you at the same time.” “I don’t need you to babysit me!” “Yeah, yeah, I know—you can take care of yourself. Go do it at some other party, ‘cause your dad’s already pissed at me.” I whistle to catch the attention of a cab droppi...