26. Isla
CHAPTER 26
ISLA
I walked through the heavy wooden doors of Elixir, not even looking around as the busy club throbbed around me. I’d gone home after the success of The Grand and scrubbed myself clean in the shower. And then, after grabbing black jeans and a simple black top with a high neck, I had jammed my feet into boots. Now, I was here, ready to tear the owner of Elixir a new one.
I saw Rye first, and had I been thinking straight, I would have hesitated at the smile he gave me. I watched as he approached me, a wicked glint in his eye. Leaning down, he spoke into my ear.
“You shouldn’t have come here tonight,” he told me.
“Why?” I demanded, glaring up at him. My hair was in its usual ponytail, and I saw Rye flick his eyes to my neck.
“Why are you here?”
“For your charming company,” I snapped. “Why do you think?”
Rye tilted his head as he looked me over. “You want to see Zayn? Or…” His cold stare met mine. “Or do you want to see Elixir?”
I didn’t understand. I’d been here a few times now. I’d seen it. I had hosted an event here. Kind of. As I held his gaze, understanding at what he offered me caused me to look around at the people who were enjoying their night, oblivious to the tension between us.
“Well?” Rye pressed.
“Show me.” I never said show me Zayn . I never said show me the club . He made the choice, and I followed.
Rye took the stairs to the VIP booths two at a time, and I struggled to keep up. I followed him quietly as he dipped into the first one, shock making my steps slow as I took in what was happening. Bodies, so many bodies in various positions, naked, grunting, and panting, and I automatically stepped back in surprise. Everywhere I looked, there was someone having sex, and they didn’t care that we’d walked in.
I heard Rye laugh as he took in my wide-eyed look. With a nudge, he led me out into the next booth. Here, the space was full of a dark, pulsing energy, hushed conversations in corners. No matter how I tried to reject it as an exaggeration, the sense of danger was woven into every shadow. Men looked me over, and I hated the feeling that I had just been weighed and judged before they looked to Rye, who shook his head. More than one looked disappointed, and I slowly backed out of the booth.
“What was that?” I asked as Rye walked past me to the next booth.
“Elixir.”
In the next booth, I recognized a few well-known sports stars. They were almost normal as they played video games or slouched on low leather couches. The naked girls serving them and pole dancing in the middle of the room made me avert my eyes.
Every booth was an eye-opener, and by the time I had visited them all, I wanted another hot shower.
At the top of the stairs, Rye nodded to another door, and wordlessly, I followed him up the stairs to a door I recognized as being Zayn’s office.
The coolness of his stark and clean office was a complete contrast to what I had just seen. I’d seen his world, and what I’d found took my breath away.
“You want more?” Rye asked me.
When I looked up at him, he was watching me with casual indifference. I nodded and I saw the gleam of danger in his eyes as he pressed a button, and all the monitors flickered to life. The top row was the club, and some were the booths where everyone now seemed to be fucking. I looked away and focused on the lower level of monitors.
The club that I’d never seen. I stepped closer. Polished marble under low black chandeliers and men in tailored suits who exchanged looks over piles of cash. I was surprised—astonished, even—at the blatant feeling of corruption. I wasn’t in the same room as them, but I knew none of what I was seeing was legal.
In one corner of the room, Zayn sat. His ankle rested over his lap as he swirled the whiskey in its tumbler as he overlooked the room.
His domain.
His world.
He was wearing his black pants and shirt and had added a black waistcoat, an outfit, or one like it, I had seen him in numerous times. But the look in his eyes I had never seen. The cold, expressionless mask he watched them with was almost foreign.
Not foreign. Forgotten.
“Does he know you’re showing me this?” I asked, my voice low and grainy.
“No.”
“Then why?”
“Because you are a liability he can’t afford,” Rye said, gesturing to the monitors. “A distraction.” He looked at the monitor showing Zayn, and he looked proud of him. “Does he look like he needs to be distracted?”
“He looks like someone I don’t recognize.”
Rye turned to me, his appraisal cold. “You lie like shit.” His hands slipped into his pockets so casually, like we were discussing the weather. “You know him; you’ve known him for a long time.”
He was right. The Zayn I had spent time with these last few weeks was not the boy I met when I was younger. I couldn’t take my eyes off the man on the screen. The coldness that exuded from him, the haughty contempt for everyone he surveyed. That was the man I knew.
Rye flicked the button on the remote, and the screens were dark, but I think the images were imprinted on my brain regardless.
“He cares for you,” Rye said, and I heard the hint of bitterness. “Caring makes you weak,” he said harshly. “Before you fuck around with him anymore, tell me, are you ready to accept all of who he is?”
I looked up and met the cold blue eyes of Rye.
“I don’t know,” I admitted.
“Then leave, and don’t come back.” Rye looked me over. “You don’t belong here, Isla. You never have.”
I was already nodding. He was right; I didn’t. I glanced at the screens. Even though they were now dark, I could see the images of the lower club. The type of men who sat down there, who were undoubtedly breaking the law in some way, probably every way, and the man who sat amongst them like he belonged.
No. Not like. He did belong.
And it terrified me.
I looked down at my feet. They were covered in sturdy boots, sensible like me. My heart was pounding. I took a steadying breath. I was here on my terms. I would not be dictated to by a giant who disliked me.
“I want to see him.” I looked up and saw the flash of surprise in Rye’s eyes as I spoke. “I came here to see him, and I’m not leaving until I do.”
Rye looked away, and I heard him suck his teeth as he thought about it. “I’ll put you in the loft,” he conceded. “He won’t be there immediately, and I think you’ve seen enough tonight, don’t you?”
I was already nodding. “His apartment will be fine.”
I felt numb as Rye led me through the maze of doors and corridors until we were climbing the stairs. He opened Zayn’s apartment door while I walked past him. He didn’t follow me in.
“Make yourself comfortable; it may be a while.”
The door closed behind him, and I sank onto the couch. Comfortable? I might never be comfortable in this building again. If that had really been Rye’s plan, he’d definitely succeeded.
All I could see was the coiled danger within Zayn as he sat in that lower club. What was he involved in? He was smart—he always had been—but surely, if he was smart, he’d know what was happening down there was stupidity.
He was not above the law. No one was.
Pushing myself to my feet, I paced his floor with my arms wrapped around myself, holding myself together. I looked with fresh eyes at his apartment. Opulent without being offensive. Expensive but almost demurely so. Understated, not like him. He was larger than life. Or was he just larger than my life?
When I was younger, twice I had turned to Zayn when I needed something. Once, as a naive girl searching for her first kiss. The other time, I was a frantic friend, realizing I needed more than just myself to stop my best friend from doing something he would regret. Both times, Zayn had accepted the responsibility effortlessly. He had appeared as if he was reacting to my demands, but when I thought about it, I realized how easily he had adapted.
He had always been dangerous. I knew this as a teenager, as I did in my early twenties, and I was reminded once more tonight.
You don’t belong here .
Rye was right. I didn’t. I never would. If I was honest, I had never intended to stay. We were too different. If I allowed it, and over the last few weeks, I most definitely had not, but if I did, I knew I needed to walk away before it was too late.
Sinking down onto the edge of his bed, I dropped my head into my hands and took a deep breath.
It was already too late. I’d already fallen for him.
* * *
The door opened about two hours later, and Zayn looked more surprised to see me than I did to see his hands covered in blood.
“Oh my god, what happened?”
“Isla?”
We both stared at each other, and then Zayn pushed the door closed and turned to face me. He didn’t bother to hide his hands.
“Why are you here?” he asked calmly, walking to the bathroom, and I followed hesitantly.
“Why are you covered in blood?” I watched him pull his waistcoat off, then his shirt, balling them both in his hands and tossing them into a corner. He unbuckled and pulled his belt free of the loops. His pants got pushed down. “Are you just going to strip?”
He paused and looked up at me. “I need to get changed.”
“Because you’re covered in blood?”
He gave me a flat look. “Rye let you in?”
“Yes.” My arms were around my middle again, and I was sure I was holding myself together. “After he gave me a very eye-opening tour.”
Zayn hesitated, then nodded. “Not the way I would have done it,” he said calmly. “You see everything you needed?”
“Did I see…” My head was pounding. “Did I see everything I needed ?”
Zayn was naked and wrapped a towel around his waist. He leaned over and turned the shower on. “I’m going to assume yes.”
I watched him step under the shower spray and tip his head back. He washed quickly, and the unsettling thought was that it wasn’t for me he was hurrying. When he finished, he towel dried and walked right past me into the main loft. Silently, I followed, certain I was having an out-of-body experience.
“I don’t have long.” Zayn broke the silence. “You can wait, or you can speak.”
“Whose blood?” I asked, my lips feeling swollen. “A customer or someone from the other club?”
Zayn was already buttoning up another black shirt. “Someone who got told to stay away and didn’t listen.” He shoved his feet into his shoes. “I operate on trust. My club, both of them, follows strict protocols. You violate that, you face the consequences.”
“Did you kill someone?”
He straightened and the coldness of his stare was heartbreakingly familiar. “No.”
“Have you?”
“Yes.”
“Why?” I was definitely going to faint.
“They touched what wasn’t theirs.”
My eyes flew to his, and he didn’t blink. I felt sick. “More than one?”
“Yes.”
Tears spilled over as I watched him. “I can’t do this,” I whispered, and I saw his disappointment before he closed himself off.
“Understood.” Zayn ran his hands quickly through his hair, styling it quickly. “I have to go. You need to stay here. It’s not safe right now for you to leave.” He was already at the door.
“Why?”
“Because too many people suspect you’re mine.”
The door closed behind him, and I hadn’t got any answers and only ended up with more questions.
With the reality of what he had said, everything that had happened, everything I had seen, my stomach twisted. I sprinted across the floor, making it to the toilet just in time. After emptying my stomach, I sat on the bathroom floor, my eyes fixated on the bundle of black in the corner of the room.
Wearily, I got to my feet, rinsed my mouth, and stared at my reflection for God knows how long.
“I can’t be here.” On shaky legs I walked to the door, relieved when it opened easily. Making my way down the stairs, I felt the bass of the club wrap around me, suffocating me.
I took a wrong turn, pausing in a dimly lit corridor I never recognized. I turned to make my way back the way I had come when a door opened and I caught a glimpse of the lower club, instinctively stepping back.
“Isla?” Julian stared at me, eyes wide as he quickly shut the door. “What are you doing here?”
My brain was scrambling. He was my trusted friend, but why was he in the lower level? I no longer knew which way was up.
“Why are you here?” I gestured to the door behind him. “In there ?” Hysteria was building. “What the fuck are you doing here?” I asked him scathingly.
Julian’s gaze was trained on my neck. “Zayn?” he asked in disbelief. “You’re fucking Zayn?”
I blinked. “How did you know?” It was out before I could stop it.
“Because you’re in the back end of a club you have no business being in and your neck looks like someone chewed on it!” Julian stepped towards me. “How long?” he demanded. “How long have you lied to me?”
“How long have I lied to you ?” Fury engulfed me. “How long have you been lying to me ?” I looked around. “How long have you been part of this?”
“It’s not what you think.”
“It’s exactly what you think.” Zayn spoke from behind us, causing me to spin on my heel. He was danger itself as he watched us. “You need to have your sibling squabble somewhere else. Julian, get her out of here.” He looked us over as Julian came to stand beside me. “Make it look convincing.”
What did that mean?
“How bad?” Julian asked gruffly, his tone not one I recognized.
Zayn met my gaze once. “Enough.” He turned away. “Leave, both of you. Now.”
“Zayn!” I called.
Julian gripped my arm to stop me from speaking, and I didn’t care as I waited for Zayn to turn. He paused, his back to us, his head turned but not enough to face me.
“Be careful,” I told him. I had no idea why, but I had a bad feeling, and I saw his slight nod.
“Always am, Is.”
I watched one of the double doors open, and Elixir swallowed him up.
“This way,” Julian muttered. “Only a few know of this door.”
I didn’t bother asking him why he knew. It was way down the list of questions I needed answers to tonight.
“Will he be okay?” I asked just before the door to the outside was pushed open.
“It’s not him you need to worry about,” Julian told me grimly. “It’s everyone else.”
That was what I was afraid of.