16. BAILEE
BAILEE
The last shot of whiskey burned its way down my throat, leaving a trail of fire that matched the pulse of the club’s neon lights. Tucked away behind the DJ’s set made it easier to stomach the club’s chaos but it was also just a little too much. The bass thumped through the floor, vibrations running up my legs. Should I just leave? Slip out the side door, text my sister, and pretend I’d never thought I could handle a place like this?
The DJ’s attention moved from the crowd down below back over to me, concern running through his expression. For someone who was in charge of the chaos, he seemed way more intent on me. My face warmed beneath his attention as it moved away from the table of lights and buttons that I didn’t understand. He held up his hand, shouting something to the vacationers down below and then turned to someone in the other corner. He made a little circling motion before coming to sit over beside me.
“You okay?” he asked, his voice cutting through the noise.
I mumbled, “Yeah,” but it came out a little too fast, my voice wobbling and my leg bouncing to the beat. He must’ve seen it—the way my shoulders hunched, the way my eyes darted toward the exit—because he scooted back a little, giving me space. It was subtle, but it felt like he got it, like he knew I was one loud noise away from bolting.
“Bella,” he purred, my heart tripping over the nickname. “I didn’t think this would make you that uncomfortable. You said you came with your sister, right?” He leaned forward just enough to catch my gaze, his brows knitting together. “Can I take you somewhere?”
I nodded, my cheeks warming as I tried to focus on his words and not his face. “Maybe just… away from people?” I should have said something about leaving rather than going somewhere else with this man but he seemed like a safer option than wading back through the crowd down there.
He grinned, like I’d just made his night. “Yeah, there’s a lounge in the back. Quiet, no crowd. You’ll be good there.”
I hesitated, my fingers still fidgeting with the shot glass. “I don’t even know your name.”
“I can absolutely fix that. Angelo Dillon.” He stuck out his hand and I stared at it for a second too long before shaking it. His grip was firm but gentle, and I pulled back fast, afraid he’d feel how clammy my palm was.
“Yours?” he asked, tilting his head.
“Lee. Just Lee,” I said, managing a small smile.
“Well, just Lee,” He tested it out, rolling it over his tongue a few times. “Your smile’s gorgeous.”
I ducked my head, heat crawling up my neck. The way he said it, so earnest, made me want to believe him, but the club’s noise was still clawing at me. I shifted on the seat, my leg bouncing harder. Angelo’s eyes flicked to it, but he didn’t comment, just stood and offered his hand again. “Come on. Let’s get you out of here.”
I glanced at his hand, then back at his face. “Was your set supposed to end that fast?”
He shrugged. “I own the club, so I can kinda do what I want.”
My brows shot up. “But… why would you come over to me?”
Angelo’s expression softened, and he leaned closer, just enough for me to hear him over the music. “Because I get it, Lee. The anxiety. It’s why I’m up there—” he jerked his thumb toward the DJ booth “—and not down here. I saw you, and… I don’t know. I just knew you needed someone.”
He didn’t know me, but he saw me, and that was more than I’d expected from anyone tonight. I slid off the leather, my heart hammering in my ears as I took his hand. His fingers closed around mine as he led me toward a door at the back of the stage.
We were halfway down the back hallway when a drunk guy lurched toward us, his voice slurred and too loud. “Hey, sweetheart, where you goin’?” He reached for me, his hand grazing my arm, and I froze, my breath catching in my throat. Before I could react, Angelo stepped in front of me, pressing me gently against the wall.
“Get him out of here,” Angelo snapped at a security guard who was already hauling the guy away. The drunk shouted something incoherent, but the guard dragged him toward the exit, the silence returning as he turned back to me, his hands hovering like he wanted to touch me but wasn’t sure if he should. “Hey, Bella, you okay?”
I sagged against the wall, my hands trembling. “Yeah, I’m good. Sorry, this is just… a bit much.”
“Don’t apologize. There’s a back door on the other side of the lounge. You can get out of here, no problem. You got a phone to call your sister?”
“Yeah, I—” I fumbled in my pocket, pulling out my phone. “Yeah, thanks.”
I was just about to dial my sister’s number when my attention turned to two very, very familiar faces. They were in the throes of some hilarious conversation, walking up to us, one of them throwing up an arm to greet Angelo. Horror replaced my tight smile as I realized they all knew each other.
Which meant…
The conversation cut off when both of those men realized who Angelo had brought with him.
“Dude,” Mason breathed, rising to his feet. Benji choked on his drink, a few inches away from us. I froze beside Angelo, searching both of their expressions. I expected to see betrayal or anger or anything other than the heated glares that they were giving me.
Benji licked his lips, but I don’t even think he knew what he was doing. “You found her,” He whispered.
The embarrassment rocketing through me was entirely too much to handle. So, I did the one thing I was good at. Run.