Chapter 58
IVY
A Few Days Later
The car comes to a stop, and the driver glances out the window, nervous. “We’ve arrived. Make it quick, bud.”
Soren opens the door, holding it as I step out onto the slightly damp asphalt. “What is this place?” I ask as the car screeches away. “He was in a hurry,” I mutter, squinting at the disappearing backlights.
The first thing I notice is a steady thrum of bass. Even with a row of nightclubs, each with a different beat, it feels like this place has its own. Something primal pulsing from the earth.
The air is thicker here, too—almost oppressive. Not hot, exactly, but it envelops everything. It presses in, almost as if it’s shaping you.
“You wanted to come to the Anything Goes.” He gestures around. “You insisted. I still don’t know if you’re ready, but we’re going to find out. Here we are.”
I glance at the strip of clubs lining what appears to be the main street—names like Voyeur, Sin.
All with red lights and an air of intrigue, none giving away the debauchery happening inside.
And right in the thick of it all, Trance.
It’s one I’d seen an ad for. The one that probably piqued my interest in this entire neighborhood even before I moved to Ravelle.
There’s a musk to the air that draws you in. I inhale deeply, enjoying the way the essence grounds me.
The rest of Ravelle harbors a certain grit—but this is something else.
What strikes me is the way it feels like everything here has an extra layer to it, like dirt baked in too deep to be scoured off.
It adds character, but also a hardness in its history.
A sense that nothing that visits here will come out untouched.
I glance over at Soren. He’s seemed preoccupied all evening, but never more than now. He grabs my wrist, harder than usual. For a second I almost wrench it away.
“Listen to me, Ivy,” he says, his voice low. “This place isn’t safe. I brought you here because you insisted. But you have to follow every instruction I give you to the letter. No questions.” He pauses, reaching out with his free hand to tilt my chin up, my eyes meeting his. “Do you understand?”
I’m confused, but I nod. “Sure,” I say. “What? Are you scared I’ll get lost? Snatched by some mafia guy?”
He shakes his head. “Don’t fuck with me today, Ivy,” he says. “Trust me.”
I point at the clubs. “They look fun.” I glance around further. It’s hard to see much in the inky darkness, although the moonlight shows traces of what’s around—outlines of buildings, a couple of stores that don’t openly advertise what they sell.
“You haven’t seen a fraction of it. I really still don’t know that you’re ready. We might regret this.” He sighs, as if burdened by his decision to bring me here.
I scoff. “It’s a neighborhood, not hell. You’re just trying to freak me out.”
“This isn’t a joke, Ivy. Once you are for sure ready, I promise I’ll show you the rest of my world.”
I glare at him. “I want all of it, Soren. I’m ready now.”
He shakes his head, frowning. “If I introduce you too early, it might cost you everything. I’m still conflicted about bringing you here tonight. It might not end well.”
I jut my jaw out, feeling stubborn and sassy. “I’m willing to take that chance.”
“I’m not so sure you know what you’re asking for.” He frowns, deeper now, his brows knit tighter than I’ve ever seen them.
“Try me,” I say, a grin forming.
But his expression remains serious, and his eyes don’t leave mine, save for when he pulls a thick black hoodie over his head. It temporarily obscures his eyes before they pop out the other side, the storm brewing in them, darkening them.
My own eyes widen as he retrieves something from its pocket, slowly pulling it down over his face—a mask, with a skull on the front. Its eyes and mouth have been crossed out, and whatever was used to do it glows under the dim lights of the Anything Goes’ grungy streetlamps.
“Run.”
The word lands so softly I almost miss it. For a second, I think I imagined it. My head tilts, brows pulling together as I look up at him. “What?”
He doesn’t repeat it. Doesn’t explain. He just looks at me. Still. Focused. Waiting.
Something in my chest tightens.
A beat passes. Then, quieter— “You have ten seconds until I chase you. And I won’t be the only one.” He points in the direction of a darkened street, further away from the action and the pulsing music of the clubs. “Go.”
My stomach drops. A small, sharp flicker of adrenaline hits before I can stop it, my body reacting faster than my thoughts can catch up.
I hesitate. Just for a second. Because I don’t understand. Because I don’t know what this is supposed to be. Because I don’t know what happens if I don’t move.
Is he joking?
Why would he chase me through a place I’ve never been?
And underneath all of that—something else. Something worse. Something that feels like anticipation.
My pulse kicks harder.
He doesn’t move. Doesn’t step toward me. Doesn’t reach for me. He just waits. Like the outcome is already decided.
I turn.
And I run.
It’s immediate. The shift.
My body snaps into motion like it was already halfway there, breath catching as my feet hit the floor faster than I expect, the space opening up in front of me.
My heart races. Too fast. Too sharp.
The dark street stretches out ahead of me, completely unfamiliar. My pulse jumps. I don’t know this place—I’ve never been here before.
The air is cool against my skin, and despite the heat in my body I feel a prick of goosebumps swirling over my arms and chest.
The sound of traffic in the distance is drowned out by the sound of my own breathing, the rhythm of my steps, the sharp awareness of everything around me.
I reach the end of the street—feint left, then bolt right. I keep going. Faster.
My lungs burn, the adrenaline pushing harder, sharper. Every step feeding into the next.
I glance back—and in my haste, I feel my ankle hit something uneven. “Ow!” I cry out as it twists awkwardly beneath me, my knees buckling slightly and almost sending me into a nearby puddle.
No sign of Soren. I can feel him anyway. Somewhere behind me. Not rushing. Not chasing. Watching. Tracking.
My breath stutters. I push harder. My pace quickens, turning again, moving through space that feels like it’s shifting under me, like the layout is subtly guiding me without me realizing it.
That realization hits harder than anything else. This isn’t random. This is designed.
My chest tightens.
I don’t slow down. I can’t.
My body is fully awake now, every nerve lit up, every movement sharp, precise, my breath uneven but controlled enough to keep going.
And underneath it, something else. Something that shouldn’t be there—heat. Low. Coiled.
My stomach flips. No. Not now. Not like—But it’s there. Stronger with every step. With every second I feel him behind me without seeing him. With every moment that stretches just long enough to make me think—maybe. Maybe I can—Don’t stop now.
I keep running, and I see a series of structures to my right. Dim lights spin in the background.
What the fuck.
I realize it’s an abandoned theme park—a rusty roller coaster looming above me, the track incomplete, carriages teetering on the edge. A carnival tent sits beyond it.
Hard nope to that one.
I keep running.
To my left, an abandoned junkyard. Chunks of old cars sprawled into the darkness, grimy parts occasionally shining in the moonlight. It’s a deathtrap.
Hell no.
I keep running.
My pulse spikes. I turn again, into an alleyway—and there’s nowhere left to go.
The space narrows.
Then I see them.
Men, emerging from the shadows that lick the sides of the streets. Five. Each of them laser-focused on me. Walking toward me, their cadence a little off-speed.
Fuck. Where the hell is Soren?
It was one thing to be chased by my hoodie-and-mask-wearing psycho, but these guys look seriously deranged. And one hundred percent focused on me.
“Run, Ivy. They’re not fucking around.” Soren’s voice booms from a distance.
I turn back to what looks like a dead end, and that’s when I see it—a chain link fence. It’s taller than me, but there’s an abandoned milk crate sitting at one end.
I hoist myself up, thanking fuck for my Pilates workouts, using every ounce of upper body strength to pull myself over, narrowly avoiding the razor-sharp barbed wire that lines either side of the fence.
I land heavily on the other side, my breath almost knocked out of me as I see two of the guys begin to scale the fence.
They’re not slowing down.
They’re closing.
And this time, I don’t hesitate. Because now, the guys following me are on my side of the fence, running at me.
There’s no sign of Soren. I know he’s not far away, but they’re closer.
And I have no doubt they’ll take what they want if they reach me.
SOREN
She wanted to be chased.
She wanted to come to the Anything Goes.
And here, I can bring her darkest fantasies to life.
The plot twist that she didn’t see coming?
We’re not going to be alone here.
That adds to my excitement. But at the same time, she’s going to be in more danger than she ever realized.
I tried to keep her away, but she insisted. Always stubborn—never really understanding the full risk she puts herself in.
I could have chased her around the woods behind the apartment. Let her run wild for five minutes and then snuck up on her, pinning her against a tree and fucking her hard.
That would have been cute—a little trite, but cute. It would have done the job. Something she could tell friends. A spicy little tale to regale them with on a night out.
But I don’t play on easy mode. This serves more than one purpose—three, if you count the part of me that’s been itching to be scratched for months now.