1. Shadows of the Past #2
“Distraction?” I raise an eyebrow at her choice of words.
My life is a series of distractions—work always pulling me back in.
How else am I to cope with suddenly being a single mom to my nephew after his parents died and my marriage failed because I couldn’t have kids?
The irony in my current situation is maddening.
“I promise you’ll have fun! Besides,” she adds with a teasing grin, “you might meet someone interesting.”
My heart sinks at the thought. I can’t afford distractions—especially not ones that involve men. They only complicate things more than they already are.
“No way,” I assert.
Olivia smirks and crosses her arms defiantly. “I need a better reason as to why you don’t want to go.”
I shake my head again, my heart racing at the thought of stepping into a nightclub. The pulsing lights, the throngs of people moving like waves, it all feels like a drowning experience waiting to happen.
“I just don’t think it’s a good idea,” I say, forcing a tight smile. “I’ve got a lot on my plate.”
Lydia spins around, her hazel eyes glinting with determination. “What’s on your plate that can’t wait one night? You work hard, Eve! You deserve this.”
“Yeah,” Olivia chimes in. “We all do. We’re not going to let you hide away forever.” She jabs her finger toward me playfully. “Plus, you never know who you might meet. Someone who gets it.”
I feel the heat rise to my cheeks. “You mean someone who’ll want kids?” The words slip out before I can stop them, and the moment hangs heavy between us.
Lydia softens her expression. “That’s not fair—”
“Look, I’m just saying,” I cut in, frustration creeping into my tone. “It’s not about hiding away. I’m just … cautious.”
Olivia raises an eyebrow, a teasing smile playing at her lips. “Cautious? Since when did you become cautious? You’re a cop for crying out loud.”
“That’s reason enough to be extra cautious,” I say sharply, memories crashing over me like waves.
“Evelyn,” Lydia says softly, stepping closer as if trying to close the gap between our worlds. “We’re here for you. Tonight is about enjoying life again.”
A sigh escapes me. Their insistence wears down my walls like water eroding stone.
“Okay,” I finally relent, unsure how much of it is resignation or curiosity bubbling beneath the surface.
“Yes!” Olivia cheers, throwing her arms up in victory.
“But if I don’t have fun,” I warn, pointing a finger at both of them as we walk toward our cars.
“We’ll make sure you do!” Lydia grins back at me.
With every step toward my car, unease churns in my stomach like an angry storm brewing. What am I getting myself into?
The thumping bass vibrates through my chest as we approach Club Velvet Petal, a pulsing heart in Columbus’s nightlife.
Lydia is practically bouncing beside me, her excitement palpable and infectious, while Olivia grins like she just won the lottery, her enthusiasm radiating like the neon lights illuminating the entrance.
The air hums with energy, and I can’t help but feel a mix of anticipation and wariness knowing that stepping inside could lead to anything from a wild night out to unexpected chaos.
Both are feeding my anxiety.
“Come on, Eve! Just look at those lights!” Lydia’s voice bubbles with excitement as she gestures dramatically toward the swirling neon colors flashing above the entrance. The vibrant hues dance against the night sky, a dazzling spectacle that pulls me in despite my nagging reservations.
“Great,” I mutter under my breath, my gaze fixed on the line of patrons spilling out onto the sidewalk. “Nothing screams party like a wait.”
Olivia rolls her eyes but nudges me forward with a playful shove. “You’re going to love it! Trust me.” Her enthusiasm is infectious, and for a moment, I feel the edges of my apprehension begin to blur. But I can’t help but wonder if I’m ready for whatever awaits us inside.
The anticipation in the air is thick, almost suffocating, wrapping around me like a heavy fog, and I can’t shake the nagging sensation that this night could veer off in an unexpected direction at any moment.
The energy of the crowd pulses around me, a chaotic blend of excitement and uncertainty, and I’m caught in its whirlwind despite this sinking feeling weighing me down. My gut is screaming at me to go home, yet I can’t seem to convince my friends otherwise.
I shrug off my reluctance and step into the pulsating atmosphere.
The door swings open, and I’m enveloped in a wave of warmth and noise.
The scent of perfume and sweat mingles with the sharp tang of spilled drinks.
My heart races as I scan the room—a kaleidoscope of bodies moving rhythmically under the glittering disco ball overhead.
“See? Isn’t this fun?” Lydia shouts over the music, her voice nearly lost amid the cacophony.
I force a smile but can’t shake my discomfort.
The bar looms ahead, a massive dark oak structure thrumming with life. I trail behind Lydia and Olivia, a shadow in this vibrant chaos. People weave around us, laughter blending with the music, each face a blur of excitement.
“Let’s grab some drinks!” Lydia shouts, her voice barely piercing through the sound waves. I nod, forcing my legs to move even as my heart thuds in my chest. I’ll need several drinks if I’m going to survive tonight.
The crowd thickens around us as we push toward the bar. It’s overwhelming, the heat and the chaos swirling around me, each laugh and shout blending into a jarring sound that reverberates in my chest.
The rhythm of the music pulses through the air, a heartbeat that quickens my own and makes me acutely aware of my surroundings.
I grip the edge of the bar to steady myself.
It’s slick beneath my fingertips, and I can’t tell if it’s spilled drinks or just the weight of anxiety settling in my stomach.
My breath quickens as I scan the packed space—people laughing, dancing, losing themselves in the moment while I’m about to sink.
“It’ll be fine! Just breathe,” Olivia reassures me with that sunny smile of hers. She leans closer so I can hear her over the music. “Focus on having fun. You can do that, right?”
“Sure,” I reply weakly, fighting back a wave of panic rising within me.
Lydia waves down a bartender—a tall guy with slicked-back hair and an easy grin that matches the flashing lights around him. “Three gin martinis!” she calls out with confidence.
I can’t help but think how much easier it would be to blend into the wall right now instead of standing here exposed under vibrant beams of light. The bartender mixes drinks while I force myself to breathe steadily, focusing on his movements rather than the people surrounding me.
Lydia leans closer as if sensing my spiraling thoughts. “You’ve got this,” she whispers.
But what if I don’t? What if all this noise drowns out my sanity?
Before I can voice any concerns, Lydia’s elbow nudges me as she spots someone across the room. “Look! That guy is totally checking you out!”
I turn slightly to see a man standing at a table—dark hair framing sharp features and an amused smirk playing on his lips as he watches us. My stomach drops. This isn’t helping.
“Just smile back,” Olivia insists while reaching for our drinks when they arrive.
As my friends take their glasses from the bartender, their smiles radiate. I wish I was that happy to be here. The bartender slides the third drink to me, and the panic threatens to claw its way back up my throat. “Thanks.”
“Cheers!” They clink their glasses together before turning expectantly toward me.
My heart races again as their gazes encourage me to join in on the fun, but all I feel is that suffocating grip tightening around my chest.
I down my drink in one gulp and turn to the bartender. I shove my now empty glass back at him. “Hit me again.”
He stares at me with a raised brow but doesn’t hesitate. He has a second martini in my hands within seconds. This time, I take a small sip and allow myself to taste the gin. It puts me a little more at ease.
“Over there.” Lydia points. She has spotted a small table tucked away in the corner, slightly away from the pulsing heart of the club.
As we make our way toward it, a shadow casts over us.
A tall figure blocks our path—a mountain of a man, towering over us with an imposing presence that’s almost predatory.
He’s dressed in dark clothes that seem to absorb the light around him, and his intense gaze locks onto ours like a hawk sizing up its prey.
I freeze mid-step. My heart races as he takes a step forward, closing off our escape route.
“Excuse me,” I say tentatively, hoping he’ll move aside.
Instead, he crosses his arms over his chest, muscles rippling beneath his fitted shirt. “You need to come with me,” he states flatly, his voice deep and unwavering.
“What? Why?” Olivia’s playful demeanor vanishes instantly. Her brows knit together in confusion.
He doesn’t answer her question but gestures for us to follow him. The air thickens with tension as I exchange worried glances with my friends.
“Who are you?” Lydia challenges boldly.
He merely tilts his head—an inscrutable expression crossing his face—as if contemplating whether or not he even needs to respond.
I swallow hard. My stomach churns as dread pools inside me. This isn’t right. It feels wrong on so many levels.
“What did we do wrong?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady while anxiety prickles at my skin. I’m a cop for crying out loud. I deal with criminals every day. I can handle a large bouncer.
His gaze sharpens as if he’s sizing up my words alongside my resolve. “Nothing,” he replies smoothly but without warmth. “Just follow me.”
He steps back but doesn’t break eye contact. It feels like an unspoken command weighing heavily in the air between us.
I down my second drink, leaving the glass on a small table as we’re led away from the crowd. The music continues to pulse around us, but all I hear is the thunder of my own heartbeat pounding in my ears.