67. Thea
67
Thea
C offee was the only thing keeping me awake after my night with Milo. When I woke up to the shrill sound of my phone alarm, Milo had gone, an indent in the pillow beside mine and a crusty tee the only evidence of our tryst.
I half expected him to have messaged me, but my phone screen remained blank.
Did he regret it?
Who knew.
Did I?
Fuck knows.
My head was all over the place. Between Milo, Landon, and Kyril, I had no clue what was happening.
At least my father wasn’t harassing me. I could only assume the issues caused by the multi-agency focus on organized crime were keeping him busy.
There had been another massive drugs bust overnight. NCA officers had intercepted a fishing vessel off the south coast and discovered a huge shipment of cocaine. I suspected the boat was one of my father’s. Unless the Irish had changed their shipping routes lately, the shipping lanes off the south coast fell within my father’s territory.
“Hey.” Eden dropped a plate with a slice of cake on it in front of me and grinned.
“Is that for me?” Chocolate cake. Yum .
“Yeah, you look like you need a sugar boost.” She unwrapped a cheese roll and took a bite.
“Thanks.” Cake probably wouldn’t help - I needed a nap - but I appreciated the thought.
“We’re going clubbing tomorrow night,” Eden announced after she’d finished inhaling her sandwich.
“We are?” I looked up from reading a news report on the drugs bust.
“Yeah. I need a night away from here.”
Something in her voice caught my attention. She’d been seeing Michael since the bonfire party, and as far as I was aware, she liked him. Had something happened?
“Has Michael upset you?” He seemed like a decent guy, but in my experience, that meant nothing. Dar being a case in point.
Speaking of…
When I glanced sideways, I noticed him sitting with three girls at a nearby table, flirting up a storm. He caught me looking and smirked before pulling a blond in for a heated kiss. The girl’s friend giggled and shuffled closer, sliding her hand up Dar’s thigh.
The sight of him with two, no, three girls, made me feel queasy. What had happened to him? He was never that guy.
But it was none of my business, so I dragged my gaze back to Eden.
Eden was my friend. She deserved my undivided attention. If Michael was fucking her around, I’d sort him out for her.
Permanently.
“You’ve got that look in your eye,” Eden observed. “I’m not sure I want to discuss Michael with you while you’re feeling murderous.” She picked up a pink frosted donut and shoved half of it in her mouth.
The frosting matched her hair. It was kind of cute. Pink was a happy color. I needed to be more pink.
“I thought you two were all loved up?”
Eden sighed dramatically while the blond sitting with Dar climbed into his lap and began sucking his face off. Frankly, it was disgusting. Definitely a food safety violation. I could tell from the look of disgust on Eden’s face she agreed with me.
“Gross,” she muttered with a shudder. “I hope he knows Paris caught genital warts over the summer.”
Eww. Yet another reason why I needed to quit looking at or thinking about Dar. He was dead to me.
“Come on, stop prevaricating. Tell me why Michael isn’t ‘the one’ anymore.”
“Ugh, fine.” She sighed dramatically again. “He’s done nothing wrong.” I waited while she ate another bite of her donut. “It’s just that he’s too… nice.”
“Too nice? What’s wrong with nice?” I was no expert on guys, but surely nice was better than Grade A asshole?
“Nice is good, but it’s also boring, ya know?”
“Um, OK?”
“Michael keeps texting me. Like 50 million times a day. He says I’m beautiful and perfect, and he’s already talking about how many kids we’ll have.”
“And that’s not what you want?” I assumed not from the way she almost choked on the words.
“God, no. I want to fuck around and have fun!”
“Then tell him?”
She shoved the rest of the donut in her mouth, chewed, and then swallowed. “I’ve tried! He acted all butt hurt and then suggested we go on a date night. Somewhere romantic!” She groaned and rested her head on the table. “So I told him I was busy… with you.”
“ Ohhh so this is why you want a night out?”
She looked up, fluttered her lashes, and half-smiled. “Yeah.”
I shrugged. “Sure, if you want to go clubbing, I’m down for that.”
I wasn’t much of a clubber, but the thought of letting loose for a night appealed. Maybe some time away from campus would help me get my head together. Torrance wanted me down in London soon, and I couldn’t afford to be distracted when I next saw him.
He’d know if I was hiding something, so I needed to be on my A game.
I finished the rest of my cake and coffee while Eden chattered away about which clubs had the best DJs and what she planned to wear for our night out. She told me her cousin was potentially in the city, so we could stay in one of the Kelly Hotels for the night.
The idea of meeting Declan Kelly didn’t exactly fill me with joy, but if I refused, Eden would want to know why. And besides, he would probably be too busy with mafia business to care about meeting some girl his cousin knew.
“Great!” Eden beamed when I finally tuned back into our one-sided conversation. “I’ll call Declan!”
Shit, what had I signed up for?
Strobe lights flashed, music thumped from nearby speakers, and the stench of cheap aftershave clung to my slinky, sequined dress. Eden pushed another pink drink with a garish umbrella into my hand and leaned in to yell in my ear.
“Let’s dance when we’ve drunk these.”
I nodded and smiled with what I hoped was enthusiasm. She grinned and slurped half of her drink. It looked like my acting skills were on point this evening. Yay. I didn’t want Eden to think I was bored when she’d gone to so much trouble to do my hair and makeup.
It wasn’t like I was having a bad time. Far from it. The club was upmarket, and the DJ was someone famous, or so Eden claimed. It just wasn’t my scene.
Although I’d hung out in plenty of clubs in the last few years, it had always been for work. And by work, I mean luring some guy into a back room so Torrance could ‘chat’ to him. Or worse.
Hitting a nightclub with a female friend was a new experience. Maybe I just needed a few more pink drinks and the fun element would become clearer. Yeah, that was it.
I downed the rest of the dreadful cocktail with a grimace. Fuck knows what was in it, but it was way too sweet for my palate. I preferred vodka. It didn’t leave a nasty aftertaste.
“Gross,” Eden concurred as she finished her drink and stood. “I’ll pick something nicer next time. OK, time to dance!”
I watched as she wobbled on her heels. The girl was well on her way to being off her face. At this rate, I’d be carrying her back to our hotel. Which would be fun, given she’d insisted I wear some ridiculous boots with 4-inch heels.
Eden pulled me toward the dance floor and forced her way through the crowds until she found a spot in the middle, overlooked by the VIP balcony. When I glanced up, I couldn’t see if anyone was watching us. The reflective glass allowed anyone up there an unfettered view without letting the bottom feeders down here have the same privilege.
If Cassian and his friends were here, that was where they’d be. Luckily for me, they were busy. I knew this because Landon had messaged me earlier, letting me know he and the guys were heading to Blackwood Manor for the weekend. He seemed miserable that I wasn’t invited, but I was more than relieved not to be asked. The last thing I needed was to meet Lucian Forsyth over the breakfast table.
Landon thought I was having a chill night in with a Netflix show, followed by a boring weekend of studying.
Kyril had been quiet since our threesome, but I figured Landon would have told him about my plans.
Was it bad that I kind of missed the crazy Russian?
Probably.
I shoved all thoughts of the guys from my head and let the music wash over me.
After three more drinks, I was ready to leave, but Eden was on a roll, determined to get shit-faced and forget about Michael. I had a sneaking suspicion she really liked him but was too used to dating assholes to know a decent guy when one came along.
But what did I know?
Nothing, apparently.
“The idiot keeps texting me,” she slurred as we stumbled off the dance floor. Well, she stumbled while I attempted to hold her upright. “Why is he texting me?”
“Maybe he’s a nice guy?”
“He is a nice guy,” she admitted, before waving at the bartender. “Drinks! We need more drinks!” she called. The back of my neck prickled, like someone was staring at me, and I turned around slowly.
Two guys wearing generic suits stood leaning against a concrete pillar, but they weren’t looking at me. Eden was their focus. My eyes narrowed as I pretended to scan the dance floor while keeping an eye on them. The taller of the two pulled a phone from his pocket and swiped the screen. He said something to his companion and then they turned away.
Strange.
Were they hoping to get laid? I guess from a guy’s perspective, Eden was worth hitting on because she was attractive but drunk enough to ignore too many red flags. Thank fuck I was with her.
Eden pushed another ghastly cocktail at me and when I looked around for a second time, the two suits had disappeared. Two predators on the prowl, it seemed.
I resolved to watch Eden even more closely.
“Let’s go sit down for a bit,” Eden said, tugging me toward the VIP section.
“We can’t go up there,” I told her, but she ignored me.
The man with an earpiece and a buzz cut scowled when Eden nearly spilled her cocktail all over his shiny shoes. “Name?” he asked, clearly hoping we weren’t on his list.
“Eden Kelly and guest.” She hiccupped and then giggled.
Mr. Buzz Cut grimaced and nodded, lifting the velvet rope to allow us access to the stairs. Feeling somewhat surprised Eden’s name was on the list, I decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth. The seating was likely to be more comfortable upstairs, and hopefully, the music was not as loud.
My head throbbed, and my feet were killing me. I definitely needed a sit down. Considering I was only 19, I felt like 109 tonight. A sad indictment of how pathetic my life was.
Any normal girl my age would be living it up right now, hitting on z-list celebrities or drinking herself into a coma like Eden. Instead, I was dreaming of my comfortable bed and thanking my lucky stars my father hadn’t sent me out to kill someone.
The VIP section was way more luxurious than the downstairs area. Instead of small tables with bar stools, this part of the club featured velvet sofas and snugs, where VIP guests could drink and socialize without being spied upon or papped for the tabloids.
Servers in black bustier tops and micro-miniskirts provided a table service for anyone too lazy or inebriated to visit the bar.
It was all very tasteful, while simultaneously being tacky as fuck. I couldn’t decide which. But after collapsing onto an empty purple sofa, I decided it didn’t matter. If being up here meant I no longer had to stand on the heels from hell, the VIP area had just earned a 5-star rating.
It wasn’t until I heard a loud burst of male laughter from a neighboring booth that my bubble burst.