10. The Disregard
CHAPTER TEN
THE DISREGARD
Layla
I’m not sure what I thought a kink club would look like, but I do know it’s not this.
We enter through a nondescript door, and then we’re taken to a small office—something that looks like the set from a bad ’90s office rom-com. My eyes skirt over the drab office decor before finally landing on the woman behind the desk.
“Welcome, Ms. Arma. Nice to see you again,” she says to Zoe, who thanks her.
She presses a button and the coat closet door opens. The coats that are hung up begin to part down the middle, revealing a door that leads to a bar.
“Thank you,” I tell her, following Remy and Zoe through the coatrack and into the bar area.
“There’s a one-drink rule,” Zoe explains. “After ordering, you’re given a wristband that you have to keep on until you leave.”
“Also, when doing a scene, one shouldn’t be inebriated,” Remy adds.
“I know that. I mean, I assumed,” I say quickly.
In the back of my mind, I know I should’ve briefed them on what was going on with Starboy on our walk over. He mentioned submissive mentors, and Zoe and Remy could easily be that for me. But something stopped me. Maybe it’s the fear of speaking about it too soon? That it could all be too good to be true? Still, I don’t want them to think I’m a total noob.
“I do know some things, you know,” I add.
Zoe looks up at me with honey-brown eyes. “My little vanilla bean isn’t so vanilla after all, is she?”
I swat her shoulder playfully, but I don’t elaborate.
I’m here tonight to observe and to see if there’s anything here for me. If tonight goes well and I decide to move forward with Starboy, I’ll explain everything to them.
“Let’s grab our drinks,” Zoe says. She and Remy both look incredible in their bondage-style dresses.
Meanwhile, I’m wearing a light blue, fitted denim dress that I recycled from a date three years ago. Compared to them, it feels way too innocent and demure, but my wardrobe is 95 percent lounge clothes, so it would have to do.
“Yes,” I acquiesce, knowing that a bit of liquor will take the edge off my nerves.
“Is he who shall not be named here?” Remy asks, referring to Orion and looking around.
Orion’s overprotectiveness feels like second nature now. I know he does it to piss me off and intentionally tries to get a rise out of me. As a teenager, I resented him for always looking out for me and being too paranoid. But when he nearly killed the football player who almost raped me… I was grateful.
As an adult, I’ve learned to live with it, though I know if I talk to a guy and Orion is there, he’ll do everything in his power to throw me off my game in a big brotherly sort of way.
Or maybe it’s not so brotherly after that kiss a few months ago…
I shove the thought into the back of my mind like I do with most thoughts about Orion.
We order our drinks and take a seat at the bar as we secure our wristbands. “All right, ladies. Are we going to Purgatory, or are we going to Paradise?” Zoe asks, crossing her legs. “I vote Paradise.”
Sipping my cosmo, I raise my brows. “Do those two things entail what I think they do?”
“I don’t think we’re going anywhere,” Remy murmurs, and I follow her line of sight to see my stepbrother bursting through the door we just came out of.
I brace myself. Zoe mentioned that Liam probably told Orion we were coming tonight, which can only mean one thing.
Sitting up straighter, I wait for him to notice us, but instead, he casually saunters over to the other end of the bar. He’s wearing a black T-shirt and worn-in jeans with those boots he loves. His hair is messy, so he probably had his motorcycle helmet on most of the day. His dark scruff highlights his jawline and disheveled demeanor. He leans forward, his biceps popping as he smiles that smile and takes a can of Coke from the bar. Bringing it to his lips, he takes a long, deep sip. His throat bobs, and it’s not until Remy nudges me that I realize I’ve been staring.
“Yeah, we’re in big fucking trouble,” she says.
“Shh,” Zoe hisses. “If we’re quiet, maybe we’ll blend into the wall like those lizards who go transparent when scared.”
“Not with his precious standing right here,” Remy mumbles under her breath.
“Hey,” I warn, sipping my cocktail.
Before we can argue further, Orion pushes back from the bar and walks right past us.
Once he’s several feet away, Zoe lets out a slow breath of air. “That was close.”
Remy’s eyes narrow, and she moves her curly auburn hair off her shoulder. “I don’t buy it.”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“He knows we’re here. I’m sure of it.”
“Maybe not.” Zoe shrugs. “We’d just walked in when he got here?—”
“Hey, Orion!” Remy says loudly.
He turns around, and I brace myself again. Slowly—ever so slowly—he flicks his eyes between the three of us, nodding once before continuing his walk deeper into the club. Without saying hi or losing his shit or… caring.
I let out a shaky breath.
“That was weird,” Zoe murmurs, brows furrowed.
My cheeks heat as Orion finally disappears around a corner. I feel like a child about to throw a tantrum because his possessiveness drives me crazy. But when he doesn’t act like a savage brute, I apparently can’t compute it, and it makes me burn with humiliation.
I hate him.
Crossing my arms, I attempt to appear nonplussed. “Whatever. Should we go see what each floor entails?”
Zoe and Remy share a look, but eventually, Zoe nods. “Yeah. Up or down?”
I glance toward where Orion disappeared, and then a sickening, not-so-fleeting thought enters my mind. Is he here to see the person he’s dating?
Is that why he didn’t say hi? Because she’s here?
“Let’s go down to Purgatory first,” Remy offers. “ Just looking. No participating for Bambi here.”
I scoff. “I don’t appreciate the nickname.”
Zoe chuckles. “Okay, let’s go after we finish our drinks.”
“I’m just looking out for you,” Remy adds, taking my hand and squeezing it once.
“I know,” I tell her, bringing it to my lips and kissing it. “Thank you.”
Once we’re done with our drinks a few minutes later, we follow the hallway around a corner and down a winding staircase that leads into what seems like a dungeon. There are signs that phones are not allowed, so I tuck mine away in my bag.
Zoe goes down the stairs first, followed by Remy. I’m the last to make the trek downward, and as I do, the hairs on my arms stand on end.
The lighting gets dimmer the farther we descend into the depths of the club. It’s not empty, but it’s also not swarming with people. A lot of people are dressed in leather, and a woman walks around in high heels, carrying a whip. Several rooms that look like prison cells line the perimeter of the large room. Sconces with real flames line the walls, and the flickering, orange light casts a warm, almost eerie light on everyone’s faces. Screaming metal music plays at a low volume through speakers I can’t see.
Several seconds after getting to the bottom of the stairs, the crowd in front of us parts slightly, and my heart drops somewhere down low when I see Orion is the one drawing observers.
I walk over to the prison cell while holding my breath, attempting to remain behind enough people that he doesn’t see me. He stands in the cell, shirtless, with only his pants hung low on his hips and his boots on his feet. He’s leaning over an old stove, and a low flame flickers underneath what looks like a cauldron. A piece of his dark hair falls in front of his face, but he doesn’t move it out of the way. It makes this whole thing so much more cryptic.
I’m fascinated.
“What’s he doing?” I ask no one in particular.
“Wax play,” Remy answers from next to me.
My eyes immediately dart to the other person in the cell—a woman with long blond hair. She’s facing away, so I can’t see her face, but this must be her—the other woman.
Everything about her makes me burn with rage and jealousy.
My fingers tingle, and it feels like my whole body was plunged into ice-cold water when I realize I’m watching Orion with the woman he chose. Well, he clearly doesn’t want you, Layla.
My knee-jerk reaction is to leave, but I’m also compelled to watch.
Orion takes a wooden ladle of what I presume is hot wax over to where the woman lies down on top of a black leather couch. Every heavy thud of his boots against the stone floor sends a shiver down my spine. She’s scantily clad—in a plaid miniskirt and mesh bralette—but she’s not naked. She’s lying down on the couch, and he walks up to the back of it and begins to drizzle hot wax along the back of one of her thighs unceremoniously. His expression is completely indifferent, too—nothing to indicate he’s enjoying this.
His muscles contract and relax with every movement, and I take in every inch of his bare chest and abdomen. The familiar black tattoos are stark against his skin, and my mouth goes dry when I see a new one above his left pectoral, but I can’t make out what it is.
The woman hisses as Orion drizzles more wax onto her bare calf. His jaw is clenched, and when the woman moans, his nostrils flare, and he takes a step back.
“Who is she?” I ask Zoe, who came up next to me a few seconds ago. “Is that the woman he’s dating?”
Zoe lets out a quiet laugh. “Dating? No. Haley is a regular at our munches. Trust me, Orion is not interested, and I think she prefers older guys anyway.”
I furrow my brows. “So they’re not dating?”
Zoe turns and looks at me. “Who told you Orion’s dating someone?” Her lips twitch like she wants to say something else, but then she closes her mouth and must change her mind.
“He did. He mentioned it the other day at my dad’s house.”
Her brows arch upward. “Huh. Must be new.”
I grind my jaw and look back at Orion. He’s holding a paddle made of black leather in his left hand now and snaps his fingers loudly.
Haley jumps up and immediately crawls onto her knees on the couch, facing the back and bending over slightly. Her chest rises and falls, and I can see the flush on her chest from where I’m standing.
“Sometimes it’s just fun to play with people,” Zoe adds. “Haley and Orion trust each other. Orion likes to do certain things, and vice versa. They both have limits. For example, I know Orion’s scenes are almost never sexual. But he enjoys inflicting pain, and Haley enjoys receiving it.”
I watch as Orion slowly walks over to the front of the couch. Like before, he doesn’t touch her—he just raises the paddle before bringing it to the back of her thighs, which are still caked with wax. Ouch. I squirm where I’m standing, wiggling my toes in my boots to dispel the arousal sinking to the space between my legs.
I shouldn’t be turned on by watching my stepbrother spank his friend, but here we are.
Haley cries out after the first thwack of the paddle, and I look up at Orion for his reaction. His nostrils flare again, and his free hand curls into a fist. I hold my breath as he brings the paddle up again, and just as I’m about to release it, he snaps his eyes directly to me.
His pupils are nearly black as he brings the paddle to the back of Haley’s thigh again, all while glaring at me. The room begins to spin, and I release a shaky breath as Orion breaks eye contact, and he continues to paddle Haley.
I adjust my stance again, ignoring the temptation to squeeze my thighs together. Crossing my arms, I feel the bracelet that Starboy sent me snag on my dress, and guilt washes over me.
I should not be lusting after Orion when I promised Starboy earlier today that I would remain monogamous.
“Please, Sir,” Haley begs, voice breaking. “No more.”
Orion’s lips pull away from his teeth as his free fist curls again. “You’ll do as you’re told. Color?”
“Green.”
He makes a low, growling sound before looking up at me again. It’s not anger on his face. It’s something darker. Something far more sinister. He seems to be directing his rage toward me—for simply being here or for another reason, I’m not sure. He looks back down at Haley.
“You can take more,” he says, his voice a low purr.
“Please, Sir?—”
He smacks her again, and this time, she screams. I’m practically panting, watching as sweat forms on Orion’s skin, glistening beautifully and exaggerating the cut of his muscles. After several more smacks with the paddle on the other leg, I see him lean down and whisper something into Haley’s ear. Even knowing that they’re just friends doesn’t matter. White-hot envy flows through me as his thumb brushes her cheekbone affectionately. He drops the paddle suddenly and picks her up, carrying her across the room and to a back door. They disappear through it, and I feel like I’m going to vomit.
“Where are they going?” I ask, feeling uneasy and restless.
“Aftercare,” Remy explains, arms crossed.
“What does that entail?” I know what it entails on paper. Almost all the research I did involved discussions about aftercare, but I want to know specifically what Orion and Haley are doing because right now, my emotions are all over the place as I imagine them cuddling in a bed somewhere.
“For Haley, probably a warm cloth to remove the wax. Soothing lotion. A cuddly blanket, or a dark room. Maybe some food, water, juice … It depends on her preference. Orion will also want to check in on how she’s feeling about the scene.”
I tamp down the burning jealousy. What the hell is wrong with me? A heavy ache settles inside my chest, and it takes me a second to realize that I miss him taking care of me.
“Do you want to stay?” Zoe asks me, grabbing my hand. “Or shall we check upstairs?”
I look back into the room Orion just exited. I want to stay and watch more of what he did, but I can’t say that.
“Sure,” I tell her, giving her a fake smile despite feeling sick.
Once we ascend the stairs, I glance back at the room to make sure Orion hasn’t returned, but he hasn’t. He’s still off somewhere with Haley, doing who knows what.
I rub my chest as we make our way up to Pleasure, and I spend the trek up two flights of stairs shutting Orion out of my mind.
I promised Starboy exclusivity, which means the best thing I can do is walk away from my stepbrother—despite still being able to feel his eyes burning into mine while he paddled another woman.