Chapter 24
Chapter
Twenty-Four
Luna
Tucked under the covers, I stare at the ceiling as the minutes on the clock tick by. Waiting until midnight—surely the fun police is asleep by now—I sit up and gently place my feet on the floor, tiptoeing to the window.
Getting the blasted thing open, I pause for a moment, my heart racing. Not hearing any footsteps, I slip on my heels before climbing out the window.
Taking a deep breath, I begin the precarious climb down the lattice. I let go and hop down the rest of the way, turning around and nearly jumping out of my skin.
An amused Vince is seated in a lawn chair. “Impressive. Not the plan—saw that coming a mile away—but that you were able to execute it while wearing those heels.”
I take off running, only to hear Vince curse as he easily catches up to me. Banding his arms around me, he jerks my body to his as we skitter to a stop. I lose my balance, but his arms keep me from eating dirt. I thrash wildly against his hold. “Stop it before you hurt yourself.”
“What do you care if I hurt myself?” I struggle futilely.
Vince clicks his tongue. “This teenage angst routine is getting old.”
“Newsflash: my angst has nothing to do with my age, and everything to do with being your prisoner!”
“You wanna go out so bad, let’s go. I’ll drive you.”
“Really?” I eye him suspiciously.
“Sure. Let’s go.” He releases me, and I follow him to the garage, making sure not to check out his ass this time. Even though it is a really great one now that I’ve seen it naked. I shake my head, trying to rattle the memory out of my brain.
“What are you doing?”
“Nothing,” I’m quick to answer.
Vince unlocks the door, and ushers me inside. I climb into the passenger seat, and he slides behind the wheel, pressing the garage button.
“Why are you being nice all of a sudden?” I demand.
“We sometimes disagree about what’s best for you, but that isn’t me being ‘not nice.’”
“Sometimes?” I snort.
His lips quirk. “Where to?”
Grabbing my phone from my purse, I read him the club address.
“I don’t know this club,” Vince says dismissively.
“Come on, you can’t back out on me now! It’s my friend’s birthday!”
“Which friend?”
“Olivia,” I tell him.
“The troublemaker,” he says disapprovingly. “Luna, you are the company you keep.”
“So I’m a middle-aged shylock?” I goad him.
He snorts a laugh.
“Why are you not married?” Guarantee Sophie’s got a wedding dress and venue on standby. Realizing I’ve balled my hands into fists, I unclench them.
“Don’t change the subject,” he chastises. “These rich kid friends of yours have nothing to lose, so that makes them trouble. They’ll always have a safety net of their trust funds. You don’t have that luxury.”
“You’re the one who chose that school,” I point out.
“A mistake on my part,” Vince says. “I wanted you to be at a school with the best chess program, but it wasn’t worth the other shit that came along with it. Bottom line is you’re going to get your diploma and focus all your attention on your chess game.”
“Glad you’ve got my entire life planned out,” I say crossly.
“Somebody has to,” he chides. “Bring home wins. And then you can rid yourself of me.”
I clasp my hands together. “Oh happy day.”
“Just be careful, Luna, about being so focused on reaching the top,” Vince warns.
“Why?”
“Because there’s nothing there.”
“What are you talking about?” I say incredulously. “Everything’s at the top.”
Before he can explain, the GPS guides us to turn into a warehouse parking lot.
“And this is why I’m not familiar with this club, because it’s not a club,” Vince announces.
“It’s a pop-up club,” I correct him.
“It’s a warehouse.”
“It’s a pop-up club in a warehouse. Please don’t ruin this for me,” I beg.
Vince parks and walks to my side, opening my door for me. He holds out his hand, and I reluctantly take it as I step out of the vehicle .
“So how is this going to work?” Realizing I’m still holding his hand, I let go.
“Don’t worry. I’m not going to cramp your style,” he says with amusement. “When we get inside, you find your friends; I’ll be around.”
We walk to the front door, with a bouncer holding a clipboard. “Can I help you?”
“I’m with the Olivia Mansfield party,” I say.
He consults his list. “The girl’s on the list, but you aren’t,” he tells Vince.
“Check again. Under Benjamin Franklin.” Vince discreetly passes him a hundred.
“Ah, there you are.”
We enter the space that’s been turned into a mashup of a rave meets a speakeasy. I scan the crowd, spotting Olivia and Emma. “There’s my friends.” I point.
“I’ll be at the bar,” Vince says.
“But you don’t drink,” I point out.
“And you don’t either,” he reminds me.
I roll my eyes. “Yes, Daddy.”
Vince
Luna reaches her friends, and I reluctantly take my eyes off her as I belly up to the bar.
“What can I get you?” the bartender asks.
“Club soda.”
He ducks below the bar, appearing with a bottle. Unscrewing the top, he fills a glass and pushes it to me .
“Thanks. I’ll go ahead and settle up.” I pay for my drink, dropping a dollar in the tip jar. “Nice setup,” I comment. “Who runs these parties?” My capo will be interested in the answer, as I guarantee they aren’t paying their dues to the family.
He shrugs. “Not me.”
“Gavin, can you check to see if we have more limes?” A female bartender asks him.
“Sure thing.”
He disappears in the back, and I turn around in my stool, keeping an eye on Luna.
Luna
“Luna!” Olivia squeals, knocking back a shot.
“Happy birthday,” I tell her, giving her a hug.
“Thanks. What do you think of the club? Stabby chic, right?”
“Is that a thing? Hey, Emma,” I say, and we hug.
“We’re making it a thing,” Olivia solemnly declares. “Here’s the game plan. Liam, Kevin, and crew are meeting up with us later.”
Uh-oh. While Vince doesn’t believe in luck, Kevin has no fucking clue how lucky he is to be alive.
“That gives us time to scout the club and see if any guys are hotter,” Olivia continues. “In which case, we’ll ditch Liam, Kevin, and crew, and head over to one of the casino bars with our hotter guys. ”
“I’m only down for the first leg of this adventure. I’ve got chess?—”
“You’ve always got chess.” Olivia says with a huff. “Get a better excuse.”
I bristle. “It’s my career, so I’d say it’s a damn good excuse.”
“I’m going to break this up, because I have to pee,” Emma interjects.
“Let’s go,” Olivia says. “I need a pick-me-up.”
I follow them through the crowd to the ladies room. It’s a single stall, and I lock the door behind us.
Emma pees while Olivia rifles through her clutch, producing a small baggie filled with white powder. She dips her acrylic pinky nail into the bag before bringing it to her nose and sniffing. “You want a bump?”
“No, I’m good,” I say.
“Don’t be such a fucking bore,” she chides, holding out the baggie for me.
“I said I’m good,” I repeat myself firmly.
“You don’t have to be a bitch about it.”
Emma washes her hands and accepts the bag from Olivia, getting her bump.
“Jesus, Emma,” Olivia says, exasperated.
Blood trickles from Emma’s nose.
“Why have you not graduated from coke Kindergarten?” Olivia shoves a paper towel at Emma. “Get your shit under control.”
Olivia leads me out, abandoning Emma, and I hate that Vince was right about my friend.
“Let’s dance!” Olivia shouts, and we work our way through the crowd to the edge of the dance floor. Moving my hips to the music, I think about all the things I’d rather be doing than trying to fit into the rich girls club. There’s a lot of them. And for some weird reason, they all include Vince.
How is that man still Stockholm syndroming me ?
“Big dick energy alert,” Olivia shouts, looking over my shoulder. “Watch and learn.” She shakes her hips off the dance floor, and I turn around to see who she’s talking about.
Vince is seated at the bar facing us, and I grit my teeth as Olivia grabs onto his thighs, leaning in and telling him something.
Spinning around, I grab the nearest guy. “Dance with me!” I shout over the music.