22. Juliet
22
JULIET
H ellfire turns into something else when it’s full of people. The rock music blaring through the invisible speakers keeps the bodies packed on the dance floor grinding and moving. The red glow of lights in the otherwise darkened interior of the building gives off a sort of tempestuous feel. They pulse with the beat of the music, almost as if they’re flames licking across the ceiling and up the walls.
My eyes latch on to the glittering dresses of the girls and the way their forms move in time with the music, free and unencumbered by stress or anxiety or pesky inhibitions. I envy them.
“What are you thinking?” Gio’s words are a caress against my ear.
I know he’s not doing it on purpose. He has to lean close just for me to be able to hear him over the music and chatter, but my body doesn’t know that. It locks up and then, like the traitor it is, leans closer to him.
I’m thinking about finding my way onto that dance floor and losing myself there for a little while, but I don’t say that. Instead, I turn and meet his gaze with a quirked eyebrow. “I’m wondering how the hell the three of you managed to snag fake IDs that pass here when the manager has to know how old his own cousin is.”
Gio laughs, the sound somewhat restrained—not at all like the laugh he’d given me that night in Roquel’s bedroom. My chest aches at the reminder, but I lock that shit down and throw away the key. Gio and his boys might have gotten me to Eastpoint with them, but they don’t truly have me .
I reach for the sweet, fruit-flavored orange and red drink I’d ordered and take a long sip from it.
“You know what I think?” Gio asks in lieu of an answer as he leans close again.
His breath fans across my bare neck and shoulder. I’d dressed in one of the outfits I’d borrowed from Margo for work to fit in with the other club goers. The access it gives him is making me regret that choice.
“ Nope .” I keep the tone light if not a bit tart. “But I’m sure you’re going to tell me.”
He grins then. “I think you want me to drag you out on that dance floor and show you how a real man impresses a woman.”
I arch an eyebrow. “And how is that?” Dangerous, Jules. You’re wading into dangerous territory. The voice isn’t telling me anything I don’t already know. I’ve been in dangerous territory for a long time. It’s far too late to try and back out now.
“I’d rather show you,” Gio says, snagging my drink and dragging it out of my grip. He sets it down on the countertop and I frown at it. Lex and Nolan are still off doing only God knows what, and there’s no way I’m going to drink from that glass again if we leave it here unattended. “Lyle?” Gio asks, gesturing from the bartender to the drink. “Watch it?”
Lyle moves down the row of other customers waiting for their drinks and lifts the glass up. He turns and dumps it into a nearby sink. “Can’t promise anything,” he says. “I’ll make her a new one when you get back. On the house.”
Gio nods, understanding. “Thanks.”
“Wait—” But there is no waiting, not when Gio wants something. He lifts me up by my waist and deposits me on the floor, nudging me in the direction of the dance floor.
“Be glad you wore flats,” he says. “Because I’m not holding out on you tonight.”
“I didn’t have heels,” I reply even though he’s right. If we’re going to be dancing, then I’d rather be wearing something that won’t make me want to chop off my feet in the morning.
The closer we get to the mass of moving bodies, the more anxious I become. I already don’t like it when strangers touch me. To my surprise though, a gap opens in the dancers as two girls come stumbling out, giggling as they practically race for the nearest bar counter.
Gio wastes no time, pulling me into the opening just before it disappears. We’re smashed together, my muscles rigid despite the thrum of the music pounding up through the floor and all around us. I take a deep breath and release it all at once, finding a calm center that I’ve had to practice in my workouts with Cory.
There’s something to be said about being in a room full of people and yet feeling so utterly detached from them all. Gio’s body isn’t the only one against mine. Someone presses against my back as they move through the throng of other dancers. An elbow accidentally grazes my back. I find my calm again and again, losing it each time until Gio turns, blocking the group of rowdy clubbers from jabbing into me.
I look up and up some more, peering into endless dark eyes as Gio’s hands find my hips. The rhythm of the music is hot and fast, a thready beat that makes everyone around us start to bump and grind. Not Gio. He keeps our bodies pressed together and instead of grinding his jean-covered cock against my stomach, he wedges his leg between both of mine, setting me off balance.
My hands snap out, landing on his shoulders to keep my balance, and the responding grin on his face tells me that was his plan all along. Gio keeps his leg there, forcing me to hold on to him or risk stumbling and then … he starts to move.
Gio doesn’t dance like he wants to fuck me. He dances like he already is. My breath catches as my nails sink into his shoulders. Back and forth, the swaying of our hips in an odd sort of sync that makes me feel like we’re one person and not two.
He moves like liquid silk, practiced skill turning the dance from one of sweaty release into something altogether different. Gio’s limbs are loose and easy as he keeps me off balance and yet, I’m never afraid of falling. We’re too locked together for that.
After the first song, I begin to relax against him. By the third, I’m following his movements with ease. Once I’ve lost track of how many songs we dance to, I realize we’re catching the attention of a lot of people. They watch us like we’re naked. Maybe because we’re not gyrating like seizing zoo animals.
“That’s it.” Gio’s voice distracts me from people’s eyes as he drops his head and whispers against my ear. “You’re doing so good.”
Praise? From him. Fuck me so fucking hard, but my pussy clenches even as my internal bitch swipes away at the fluttering feeling in my stomach his words produce. Unable to stop myself as a shiver moves through me, I arch upward, pressing my chest against his until I’m sure he can feel the hard points of my nipples. My hands inch over, away from his shoulders until they graze the sides of his neck. Closing my eyes, I let everything else around us fall away and focus on the tingles slipping through my veins, urging me to move faster, to follow his every step.
The music changes at a rapid pace, but Gio maintains his dance. His control over his body and mine is immaculate as he leads me from one song into another. At one point, he spins me out and brings me back, turning the two of us until my ass is nestled against his thighs and his arms close around me. The spicy hint of cologne fills my nostrils.
“You’re a good dancer,” I say, gasping for air as I arch up and reach back, locking my hand around his neck to keep myself balanced as we continue to move to the rhythm of the beat permeating the room.
Sweat slicks down my spine and makes the already tight fabric of my dress cling to me all the more. The hem has slid up and I know I should tug it back down, but I can’t seem to remember why. I’m too focused on the man at my back.
“I know.” Gio’s deep rumble is tense now. Gone is the easy going and amused note in his voice. My eyes open, lashes fluttering, and I blink at the new figure that appears before me.
Lex towers over most of the people on the dance floor, his big body blocking them all out as he approaches. “Is it time for you to go?” I ask Gio, concerned by the fact that I don’t want to release my hold on him.
“Not yet,” Gio replies. “But I hope you don’t mind if we share you for a bit.”
We share our toys … his words from before penetrate my otherwise alcohol and pleasure addled mind as Lex moves in closer to my front. He finds my free hand and puts it around his own neck. His hips touch mine, his cock higher up on my abdomen than Gio’s against my ass. Both of them are hard, the stiff lengths of them rubbing against me through the fabric of our clothes.
When I’d agreed to come with them for the weekend, this hadn’t been my plan. Yet, here we are—hours away from home—and all I can feel in my blood is fire. We’re not in Silverwood. No one here knows who I am, who they are. We are just like everyone around us—invisible lovers hidden in plain sight.
I release a breath and simply sink further into this fantasy. Lex and Gio dance with me, one pressed to my front and the other to my back. By the time I’ve grown dizzy with fatigue and I’m panting out each breath, the crowd around us has thinned somewhat.
“Do you need a break?” Lex’s question—murmured against my cheek—makes me shiver, but I nod.
Without missing a beat, both Gio and Lex lead me off the dance floor and towards the bar counter that G and I had been at earlier. Lyle the bartender catches sight of us and hurries to mix up the same drink I’d had before. He slaps it down along with two beers before striding back down the line of other customers. G hooks his fingers around the long necks of the beers and takes my drink in his other hand. Lex tugs me along behind them and to my surprise, they don’t lead me back up the staircase, but towards an alcove around the back of the dance floor.
“Where—” I never finish the question as the answer appears as several booths that are more like holes in the wall with curtains and pillowed benches surrounding tables. Nolan sits at one, chatting amicably with his cousin.
Zeke is dressed in dark slacks and a matching button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His hair is brushed back from his face and he appears far older now than he had earlier. How much older? I wonder.
When he catches sight of us, he says something to Nolan, who looks up and nods. Before we even make it to the booth, Zeke slides out of his spot with ease and makes his exit in the opposite direction. I follow him with my gaze, curiosity burning in my gut.
Gio nudges one of the curtains aside and holds it open for me. I’m sweaty, sticky, and hot, and now that I’m no longer surrounded by a throng of bodies, I’m beginning to shiver from the cool air pumping into the club. So, at the promise of a more enclosed space away from the air vents, I climb onto the nearest bench and wrap my arms around myself. A moment later, Lex slides in next to me.
He tosses a heavy limb over my shoulders, but when I glance up, he’s not looking at me.
“Here.” Gio slides my drink onto the table and in my direction before handing Lex his.
I cast a look around the table, taking in Nolan’s even expression and Lex’s gaze as he watches the people outside of the booth. Twisting my fingers around my glass, I lift it to my lips and take a long drink. The fruity and light flavor hits my tongue and I sigh as it eases my somewhat raw throat.
“So…” I begin. “What’s the reason for this trip?”
At once, all three pairs of eyes are on me. “What do you mean?” Nolan asks. “We’re visiting Eastpoint tomorrow for a tour. We told you that.”
I snort. If they think I bought that, then they’re not as smart as I originally gave them credit for. Placing a single finger atop the rim of my glass, I arch an eyebrow in his direction. “I’m sure that’s true,” I tell him, “but there’s something else going on, isn’t there?”
Silence meets that question, and I know I’m right.
“Does it have to do with Darrio Vargas?” At my question, Gio stiffens and shoots Nolan a look. It’s not worry or even accusation, but more of an expression that begs him to figure out how to get out of this conversation without giving me any of the information I’m asking for.
One thing I know, though, is that the Scorpion Kings don’t make plans for nothing. They’re here, in Eastpoint, for a reason, and with the way they all stiffened at the mention of Darrio Vargas, I think I already know. My next question is… why? Why do they work for him when it seems clear that Gio doesn’t care for his dad? Do they not have a choice?
The Scorpion Kings don’t strike me as the type of men who bow to others’ will, at least not without a reason. If I’m going to start letting them in again, then I need to be fully in. I need to know everything.
As soon as that thought occurs to me, I realize that it’s too late. I’ve already started letting them in again. Even before I knew what I was doing. Shaking off that reminder, I lock my jaw and lift my gaze to Nolan’s. He’s their leader, therefore, he’s the one I need to break.
Dark-brown eyes with threads of crimson woven through them peer back at me as he carefully lifts the neck of his beer to his lips and takes a long drag from the bottle. A beat passes where the only sound is that of the music and chatter outside of the booth.
Nolan sets his beer back down. “Don’t ask questions when you’re not ready for the answers.”
I lean forward, shrugging off Lex’s arm. “Who are you to tell me I’m not fucking ready?”
He doesn’t back away from my challenge. “The one with the answers, Princess.” Nolan reaches up and touches the tip of my nose. “Just enjoy this little vacation for now and don’t worry about what we do in the shadows.”
Ice fills my veins, coating my arteries in frost. “I will find out what you’re hiding,” I warn him.
Nolan frowns. “I’m saying this for your own good, Juliet,” he says, dropping his voice into that deep baritone that’s almost raspy. “Don’t stick your nose where it doesn’t belong, and everything you want will happen. You’ll graduate and you’ll leave Silverwood behind and you’ll end up here one day—at Eastpoint.”
My desire for that exact outcome overwhelms me. Escaping Silverwood. Moving to Eastpoint. Actually making it into college—possibly using that program they were talking about. I want it so bad that I ache with it. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to turn a blind eye to whatever they’re doing.
If they’re going to be in my life, if they truly won’t leave me the fuck alone, then what they do will eventually affect me. Whether I want it to or not. The fact that they won’t tell me is suspicious. I cast a look to one side, taking in Lex’s dispassionate expression and Gio’s downward gaze as he picks at the label on the beer bottle in front of him.
I closed my eyes to everyone around me before. I ignored any and all signs of my parents falling apart, of my best friend’s betrayal, or my ex’s betrayal. I can’t do that anymore. I won’t.
“What does Darrio think of the three of you wanting to leave Silverwood?” I ask, curious.
Nolan’s attention burns into the side of my face, pulling my attention back to him. Once he has it, he speaks. “No one has a say in our future, Princess.”
My lips part. Seriously? “You’re in a gang,” I remind him.
“No, we’re not,” Gio bites out, the words gritty and annoyed.
I look at him. “Then what would you call it?” Gio doesn’t lift his head, neither does he give me an answer, so I return my scrutiny to Nolan.
He leans on the table and tilts his head as he examines my face. That look of his threatens to peel me open and delve inside to find all of my secrets, and I almost hate it. Almost.
“Maybe we’ll tell you the truth someday, Jules,” he says. “You need to trust us first.”
Never. The word screams through my head, but never makes it to my lips. It’s on the tip of my tongue to demand an answer now, to ask why not, but he holds up a hand, stopping me.
“Everyone deserves their secrets until they’re ready to bring them into the light,” he says. “Just like you won’t tell us why you’re scared of the dark or why you don’t like Morpheus Calloway, we don’t want to tell you about Darrio.”
My vision narrows to a pinprick. My pulse pounds in my ears. Pretty girl… so pretty.
No! I shake my head. That fucking ugly voice has no place in my head.
“I don’t…” Shallow breaths seize in my lungs. He doesn’t know anything. He doesn’t know shit.
“Baby?” Lex’s hand skims my arm, and I jerk away from him.
“I want out,” I snap, turning towards the exit. “I’m tired.”
Gio frowns at me, but he doesn’t resist as he scoots free of the booth and, the second I have an opening, I bolt from the booth and leave the three of them behind. I practically sprint through the club, pushing drunken clubbers out of my way as I find the staircase leading up to the second floor.
By the time I reach the apartment, I’m panting and no longer cold. I’m burning up and my throat tightens in warning. Saliva coats my tongue and I rush into the bathroom, my knees slamming onto the floor a split second before I vomit everything I drank earlier in the night.
Not real. It wasn’t real. Those dreams were never real. I repeat the words over and over again until they’re all I hear.
Not real.
Not real.
Not … real.