Chapter 42
Ophelia
I’ve been so nervous all day. I’ve never held a party before.
I wanted to get the tower just right before everyone arrived, and the guys helped.
We purchased fairy lights and hung them up, trailing over the walls.
I’ve lit candles, too. Retro music is playing, and there are bowls of snacks dotted around the room, as well as plenty of alcohol.
The tower looks warm and inviting, and it smells delicious because Roman sprayed some air fragrance that he made for me from herbs he picked. A huge vase of stunning white roses sits on the mantel, and every time I look at them, I smile. My men bought them for me. Flowers, for me.
Such pretty ones, too.
They also bought me a big vase, and two smaller ones, in stunning colors of swirled glass. I love my vases, and now I have these new ones to add to my collection.
Guests have been arriving for the past twenty minutes. Some are people I don’t know too well, but we kept the guest list small. Mostly, it’s going to be Vani and her men, as well as Mack and her guys, and Camile, too. There’s a handful of other students, but not many.
Vani is sitting in the corner with her Vipers.
Her father isn’t here yet. They got back to the place they’re staying at last night, but haven’t arrived for our party, and I wonder if they’ll be a no-show.
Hanging out with a whole bunch of college students probably isn’t their thing, but I had hoped Jack-the-blood would want to spend a little more time with his daughter.
I want to see him in the flesh and tell him how grateful we all are for what he and his men have done.
The door opens, and Mackenzie walks in with Dom, Kirill, and Tino. They’re all good looking in their own way, but Dom is devastatingly handsome. He could be a model, or a movie star. They don’t have their daughter with them tonight. She’s with her grandfather, the dean.
The men prepare Mackenzie a drink, grabbing beers for themselves, and they sit around talking for a while.
I wave at Mackenzie and am about to head over to her when the track playing changes and a seventies dance song comes on.
Even I know this one, and as the beat fills the room, and someone turns the volume up, Kirill shoves his bottle into Tino’s spare hand and casually walks into the center of the room where, all alone, he begins to dance.
I watch, mesmerized, because my word, that man can move. He’s lost in the music, and so confident and uncaring of what anyone thinks. I’d give anything for that confidence and that ability to just be.
Maybe one day I’ll have that level of self-belief. I’m getting there, discovering new things about myself daily and finding my confidence blossoming in whole new ways.
“Hey, gorgeous, want to dance?”
I look at Mal in surprise. “I didn’t think this would be your kind of music.”
He’s dressed in his usual black band t-shirt and ripped black jeans, his dark hair falling over one eye, and he laughs. “It’s not, but you’re watching Kirill as if you want to have a go yourself.”
“I can’t really dance.” My voice is low and embarrassed.
“Yeah, anyone can dance. Do you know the secret?”
I shake my head.
“It’s as cheesy as fuck, but as the saying goes, dance as if no one is watching. Just… let the music flow over you and take you. Don’t give a shit about anyone else, and you can do it.”
I suck in a breath as he takes my hand and leads me into the middle of the room. Two more people have joined, and it’s turning into an impromptu dance floor.
Mal holds my hips in his big, warm hands and sways to the beat, and I follow his lead, just swaying, and soon, I begin to find my rhythm.
I used to love dancing as a little girl.
Sometimes I made up routines to show my parents.
Wow, that’s a memory I’d all but forgotten.
Of course, dancing was strictly forbidden in the commune.
As I move my body, the muscle memory of all those routines I memorized kicks in, and I find I can do this. And I love it.
Mal laughs, and I glance at him, worried for a moment. Do I look stupid?
“Baby, you can dance! I don’t know where you got the idea you couldn’t.”
I feel so much happiness in this moment. A bubble of pure joy fizzes up inside me, like the bubbles in the champagne we have on ice.
The door opens again, and I barely notice as the music changes to something new, but then Mal stops moving and gives a nod to someone behind me, and I turn to see Vani’s dad, Jack-the-blood, and all his men.
They make a truly intimidating sight in their denim and leather, and they’re so big and muscular. Many of them are older, too. Jack is the most intimidating of all. I fancy that he looks like a pirate, as if he should be on a boat somewhere stealing gold, and women’s hearts, too.
“Come on, let’s go say thank you.” Mal leads me from the floor and over to where Jack is now standing with Vani and the Vipers.
Cain joins us with Roman, and we move off into the kitchen to escape the noise and the crowds.
“I can’t thank you enough,” Roman says once we’re all crowded in the smaller space.
Jack shrugs. “You don’t need to thank us. You paid for a service, and we delivered. Anyway, I don’t want any assholes threatening this place, not when it’s now my daughter’s home.”
Vani beams at him, then throws her arms around him and hugs him. “Thanks, Dad, you’re the best.”
The dark-haired, pale biker called Ghost is standing back, and I glance at him. He reminds me of myself in some ways. Not how he looks, of course, but he’s closed off. Quiet. He seems as if he’s locked in his own head a lot of the time, and that’s how I was when I first arrived here.
I wonder if he’s haunted by ghosts of the past, too.
He catches me looking and turns his light hazel gaze on me.
For an odd moment, there’s a beat of understanding between us, as if two souls have seen something recognizable in one another, then he breaks the spell and looks away.
Ghost is a fitting name for him, not just because he looks like one, but because I’m damn sure he’s haunted by them, the same way I was.
“Aren’t you worried about the attack on the facility being traced back to you?” Roman is asking Jack.
Vani’s dad laughs, deep and resonant. “Fuck, no. Do you know how many people want to go up against a one-percenter club?”
Roman shakes his head.
Jack swipes his hand over his beard. “I’ll put it another way. Do you know which organized crime group the FBI says is the most dangerous?”
Again, Roman shakes his head.
“Bikers. One-percenters,” Jack supplies. “Now, do you know why?”
Roman smiles. “Clearly not.”
“It’s because we’re fucking hard as nails.
Many of us truly don’t give a fuck, but most of all, it’s because we’re loyal.
You can’t just join, you must work damn hard to be accepted, and once you are, there’s no way out.
We’d rather die than snitch. All of us. We are brothers.
We will die for each other and the club, and we have so many fucking weapons it would make a military unit weep. ”
“It’s true,” Vani supplies cheerfully. “They have so many guns and other things. It’s insane.”
“If they want to come after us, let them. They’ll have a fucking war on their hands,” the one called Ace says. “I could do with the excitement, anyway.”
“They had people under eighteen in that place.” Ghost’s voice cuts through the noise, despite being so quiet. “Kids, basically, and they were treating them like animals. I fucking hope anyone else linked to that shithole comes for us. I want to enjoy torturing them.”
“That’s not a euphemism,” Ace adds. “He really can be creative with his methods.”
I shudder at the thought but tamp it down when Jack looks at me. His shrewd gaze takes me in. “You’re strong, you know, to survive all you have. My Vani here told me some of it. Out of all of us in this room, you might be the strongest of us all, Ophelia. Never let anyone tell you otherwise.”
My cheeks heat at his words. The praise gives me a sense of pride but also makes me squirm because now everyone is staring at me.
Luckily, Mackenzie walks into the kitchen space, cutting the conversation off.
She leans against the wall, where she can still see the living area, smiling as Kirill continues to dance.
Her head turns as the door opens again, and she gives a low whistle.
“Holy hell, I didn’t know she had that kind of outfit in her closet.” The words are said with affection and a touch of awe, and I peer to look, in time to see Camile sashay into the water tower.
And holy hell, indeed. She’s wearing a garment that looks more like a handkerchief than a dress.
Silky material, in turquoise and teal, shot through with threads of gold, drapes her curves.
She turns to close the door, and I see the back is basically a short skirt, and above that tanned flesh, and then a large knot, tied to secure the dress, and then more flesh.
Nothing else. She walks through the room, her hips swaying, before spotting us and making her way to the kitchen area.
“Camile, oh, my God, you look amazing,” Mackenzie shrieks. “Where have you been hiding this body?”
Camile often wears clothes that I consider revealing, but she’s always classy. This is more, full on look at me and my smoking body.
Suddenly self-conscious in my simple sheath dress, which is daring for me, I glance at my men, but see Cain and Mal are in a heated debate about something, and Roman … well, Roman is looking right at me, and the heat in his gaze tells me I have nothing to worry about.
“Did you find you didn’t have any clothes left, so you had to wear a scarf?” Kirill asks as he bounces into the kitchen like a big, blond, Russian Tigger.
Camile sweetly gives him the finger.
“Ignore him,” Mack says. “You look amazing, doesn’t she, Vani?”
Vani nods. “Yeah, amazing.”
There’s something in her tone though that I can’t quite figure out.