11. Raegan
Chapter eleven
Raegan
A shower doesn’t wipe away the misery that has me in a chokehold.
Murderer .
Even though I’m trying to do the right thing, even though I’m doing what I must to survive, I’ll never get away from being exactly who Gordon told me I was.
A murderer.
A villain.
If only the guys knew what our enemy had done to me in our year apart. What Gordon made me do. For him. To him.
Don’t think about it , I remind myself before I spiral into those dark memories. I shove them back down, locking them away and repeating that Gordon is dead. He can’t hurt me anymore.
My fingers shake as they probe gently at the cut on the right side of my torso. It isn’t deep enough to need stitches, thankfully. I patch it up with first-aid items Elias has stocked in the apartment and tape a long stretch of gauze over it. I wince at the touch, but there’s no blood on the gauze at least. Better.
Now that my thoughts and emotions are both haywire, I decide that I need to drink or dance until I’m ready to collapse if I’m going to have any chance at rest tonight. I can make money dancing and check in on Portia while I’m there, too, so it’s killing three birds with one stone. Thankfully, Hype is still open for a couple more hours.
I put on a short, tight sheath dress with a halter top and sweetheart neckline. I’ve been able to buy a few dress options in my weeks here working the club at night with no rent to pay, and once again, I send another mental thank you to Elias.
Even though Elias’s security personnel are all throughout the club, I still pack two knives. Complacency is a fast road to death in the world I’m in.
I leave the apartment and head downstairs to the nightclub. The only way to get to the apartments is through a back door in the club, which is a great way to avoid unwanted visitors and I’m sure was Elias’s intention since he offers them to most workers in the nightclub.
It's late in the night, and the club is still packed, so I have to push through to make it to the bar where I know I’ll find the sweet, glittery girl.
Portia is mixing a drink behind the bar. I head over there and walk behind it, deciding to barback for a bit to listen in on her and have a reason to be close. I start with topping off the ice trays, then work on restocking anything that’s low or out.
She’s chatting away with everyone who orders drinks, but after the third customer, I realize it’s all surface conversation. By all appearances, she’s being sweet and personable, but she’s also quick to move on to the next person and end the conversation, so no one even realizes it wasn’t them that did it.
When there’s a lull in orders, and she starts wiping down her area, I move up next to her and start drying glasses. “Hey there, Glitter.”
She turns to me with a smile, but it isn’t until she recognizes me that her face lights up. As if her first smile was the one that she pastes on for anyone who speaks to her, but this is her real one. “Rae! I’m so happy to see you!” What’s crazy is that she actually sounds like she means it. “I have to say, you are one of the hottest dancers up there. Your box fills with money faster than anyone I’ve ever seen,” she gushes.
I focus down on the glass I’m drying. “Oh. Thanks.”
“Elias told me you were just working to get some extra money, but you could really make a career out of dancing.”
I burst out laughing and set the glass down. “For shaking my ass? No, I don’t think they pay for that. Maybe strip clubs, but I’m not doing that.” Not unless I have to.
She shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe you could work with Elias to set up some sort of show that has you and other girls doing a routine up there together timed with the music and lights.”
That…actually sounds cool. Dance routines aren’t something I’ve done, but it can’t be that bad, right? Just one song.
I shake my head. Nope. No time for that.
“That does sound fun, but I don’t think I have the time right now. Besides, Elias isn’t here to pitch the idea to anyway,” I add, hoping to steer the conversation in his direction .
Glitter tosses her used rag into the corner pile and then pulls out two shot glasses.
“Yeah. He didn’t say where he was going or for how long,” she muses softly.
I instantly feel bad and open my mouth to tell her what I know and then snap it shut when I realize what I was almost about to do. Damn, did she do that on purpose?
She looks at me with another smile. “I guess it’s a secret, huh?”
I blink at her, thrown off by what’s happening right now. Is something happening right now? No, I’m just overthinking it. “Um…I think it’s just private business.”
Some emotion flashes across her face, but it’s gone before I can recognize whatever it was. “Oh, okay.” Portia finishes filling the two shots with whiskey and then hands me one. “Here’s to a good night, Rae.”
We clink the shot glasses together, and I toss mine back at the same time as her. I’m confused as hell, but when she takes the glass back from me, she smiles brightly and then moves down the bar to take a customer’s order, and I suppose she’s letting me off the hook of responding to anything else.
Right.
Time to dance. That always clears my head.
There are glass boxes suspended in the air by steel cables with string lights inside along the seams that change colors and flash along with the music. Tubes, like the ones at banks, are lined along one wall with numbers that correspond with the numbers on the corners of each box. Customers can fill them with cash, and it’ll shoot into the box so the dancer is dancing amongst their tips.
That’s my favorite way of making money.
Anyone can go in them, even regular customers. Then they dance like crazy to see what tips they’ll get. The dancer is untouchable in that box. Suspended over the dance floor, the beat vibrating through the glass, and lights pulsating with the music—it’s perfect.
I’ve had too much experience with dancing on a stage and being grabbed or touched at my first boyfriend’s bar.
Once one of the staff helps me into the box, I close the glass door, latch it, and then let the music take over my body.
I don’t even pay attention to the bills that fly through the air around me. I close my eyes and bump and grind and twist until I’m one with the music. Every once in a while, I open my eyes to smile down at the view of the crowd moving below under the flash of lights.
I’m sweating by the time I’m ready for a break. I collect the bills, finding tight places in my dress to store them until I get home, and then press the button that lets staff know I’m ready to get out.
Portia waves her arms wildly at me, jumping up and down to get my attention from behind the bar. I laugh at her excited energy and lean against the bar.
“Girrrrl! That was so hot! You have to teach me how to move like that! Please, pretty please!” She’s still bouncing up and down, and I notice the eyes around the bar all zeroing in on her jiggling tits. I still know absolutely nothing about this girl, but her innocence and excitement are damn refreshing, and I’ll do apparently anything to protect it. For Elias and for myself .
I reach for her arm to stop her. “Okay, okay! Just…stop bouncing, or I might have to stab some eyes out, and then Elias’s security will probably have me arrested.”
Her eyes widen at the stabbing threat or me being arrested, I have no idea, and then she nods vigorously. “Got it. No bouncing.” She slides a tray of shots over to me with an eager grin. “Not tonight since I’m working, but do more shots with me. It’ll help calm me down.”
I quirk an eyebrow at her, but she just giggles and picks up a shot without further explanation. I’m in such a good mood myself that I shrug it off and clink my glass with hers. Soon, she gets flagged to make another drink. She waves me off and says she’ll see me later, and I check my own mental box that my task is done for the night of looking in on her. I’ve also made some good money and feel fucking wonderful , thank you very much.
I rarely let myself get this hammered when I’m on my own, but this is Elias’s club. With security. Of all the places I’ve ever been, this feels the safest. Besides, I’m just another face in this huge crowd. The chances of GE knowing I’m in this city, in this nightclub, among all the people here, are slim.
I turn and lean back on the bar as the alcohol washes through my veins, and a warm buzz tingles across my skin. I stay there for a bit, letting the alcohol do its thing and having a few more drinks.
I debate going back out to dance, maybe getting lost in the crowd or finding some dance partners this time, when I get the feeling of being watched.
By luck or sixth sense, I glance over to one of the booths across the dance floor to find Jackson watching me .
Nope.
Nuh-uh.
I flip him the finger, hoping to keep him away and stumble-walk to the bathrooms. There’s a hallway to the back left of the bar for employees only that I take full advantage of. I make it two steps into the women’s restroom when a lock clicks behind me.
I reach for a knife at the same time as I whirl around, but the world spins faster than I expected it would, and I stumble off-balance. A hand catches mine and pulls me back up before I fall, but then I’m falling the other direction until I thump into them.
I know I should shove myself off of them, but everything is turning around me, and I need a second to close my eyes until my brain catches up with reality. That the world isn’t moving like the tilt-a-whirl carnival ride.
I take a deep breath, and the smell of autumn, of crisp leaves and a cool, clear night fills my nose. My hair is gently pushed behind my ear, and I shiver at the contact.
“Come on. Let’s get you back to your apartment,” Jackson murmurs in my ear, tickling the hair there until I’m weak in the knees. He lifts me in his arms.
I want to argue with him, but the second I open my eyes to do so, the room shifts, and nope. No. I still need a minute.
The movement up the stairs forces me to focus on small breaths to control my nausea until I’m set down on my feet again. I’m at least leaning against something so I don’t immediately topple to the floor. Joy.
Something cold presses against the back of my neck, and I sigh with relief at the coolness. It takes another minute until I’m ready and then I open my eyes.
We’re standing in my apartment. I’m calm for about a second until I realize what that means. I groan and push slowly off of him. The cold item on the back of my neck disappears, but his other hand remains on my back while I wobble into balancing on my own.
Not only did he know how to get to these apartments, but he knew which one was mine and the code to get in.
“Stalker…” I grumble under my breath.
He doesn’t deny it. I should be freaked out. Concerned, at the very least. I wait for those feelings to come, but they don’t. I just feel…warm.
Must be the alcohol.
I glance up, and oh, look. He used his knife to cool me down. I mean, I guess that’s something he always has handy on him, and it is cooler than my overheating body, but no… Stop it. Stop rationalizing what anyone else would see as crazy. “Most people use a wet washcloth,” I mutter while looking at the knife.
He looks at it, then shrugs and puts it away. “This was on me. I wasn’t leaving you.”
Now that my equilibrium is somewhat returned, I’m able to focus more on the situation. He’s stalking me. After he witnessed me murder someone a few hours ago. “Why are you following me? Are you reporting back to Aiden now?”
“No. Why were you at the nightclub tonight? You should be taking it easy.”
I squint my eyes up at him. Out of confusion and because there are two of him, and I’m trying to get them to merge into one. “Why do you care? What does any of this matter to you?” I step away from him, and his eyes dart down to my dress. “I just messed up your job and killed someone. Are you here for revenge?”
Jackson touches my side, and I flinch at the sharp sting it causes. He holds his fingers up to show me the blood on them. “You didn’t even notice you started bleeding while you were dancing, did you?”
I touch my side to see that, yup, I’m bleeding. But my dress is black, so unless you’re looking closely, it’d be hard to tell. How did he—?
“I’ll help you re-bandage it.” He reaches for me again, but this time, I’m ready and slap his hand away.
“Don’t. Just…don’t.” If he touches me, I don’t know what I’ll do. Hurt him? Hug him? Kiss him? Honestly, any of those options is a possibility, and none of the fallouts will be good when I’m sober. He shouldn’t be here anyway. Not here to help me. He should be angry with me. Trying to get back at me somehow. That’s the only thing that makes sense.
I take another step back from him. And another. “Why are you really here? You just watched me murder someone tonight. And now I’m out dancing. Because that was nothing .” Lie, but he doesn’t need to know that. Not when I apparently need to give him another reason to stay away from me.
“You’ve seen proof now that I’m a killer. So, what are you going to do about it? Are you going to kill me before I kill anyone else? Because you should, you know.” I don’t even know the words falling from my lips, but angry tears spill from my eyes as I try to make him leave.
He stalks toward me, and I don’t know if it’s the predatory look in his eyes or because I’m scared of what might happen if we get close enough to touch, but I move backward until I hit the wall. I fumble over all my hiding places to check for a weapon, and my breath stalls when I come back empty. Did he remove them at some point?
Jackson slams his hand into the wall over my head, his body crowding over me until it feels like he’s sucked the oxygen out of the room. He’s staring at me like I’m the only person in the universe. The only thing that matters.
“You can say or do whatever you like, little one. It’s not going to change anything for me. I know who you are.” Jackson’s voice is low, but it’s calm and confident like always. No ounce of doubt in what he’s saying. Just simple facts.
There’s no way I can look away from his eyes when he watches me like this. Like I’m someone precious . It cuts me to be so close to something I know I’ll never have. I don’t deserve love after all I’ve done. And no one would love me if they knew.
I push against his chest to give myself space, but he doesn’t budge. Even knowing my gift, that I could kill him with a thought now that I’m touching him, he doesn’t so much as flinch. His body returns the same pressure back against my hands, so there’s absolutely no space between us there.
I tear my eyes away from his with effort and gaze at his lips instead. I’m not sure it’s much better, but I’m able to speak again. “I’m a monster. The villain they wanted me to be,” I whisper.
He lifts my chin, but I refuse to be caught in his intense stare again and close my eyes instead. Jackson’s thumb strokes my cheek while keeping hold of my face. “No. But even if that’s what you believe, then I’ll be your demon. You won’t scare me away. I’ve done things that nightmares are made of. You want to burn the world down? I’ll give you the match to do it. And I’ll kill anyone that gets in your way.”
My heart stutters, and I open my eyes at his declaration. It’s a lie. A trick. If he felt that way, then why did he leave me on the island? Why would he feel that way after what I’d done? I fist his hoodie, then take a shaky breath to get ahold of myself.
I twist my lips into a smirk and give a breathy laugh. “You expect me to believe that? You left me on the island. I killed —” I press my lips together before I can say it aloud. We both know I’m talking about Vera. “Just because I popped back into your lives doesn’t mean you get to mess with me. If this is your version of revenge, then it’s a pathetic attempt.”
This time, when I shove at his chest, he steps back and drops his arms to his sides. I take a lungful of air and then shiver at losing his body heat. His face is solemn rather than angry at being called out in his lie.
“I didn’t want to leave you there. I’ve spent all these years searching for you. I didn’t stop.”
“I don’t believe you!” I yell. My body quivers in anger that he would play such a dirty trick on me. I wish they would forgive me and things could go back to the way it was, but I can’t let myself hope. It’s over between all of us. I’m trying to accept that. Why is he making this harder ?
Why?!
He just nods and offers me a sad smile. It’s full of pain and regret, and my heart breaks a little. “I know. I’ll do whatever it takes to prove myself to you, I swear. Just watch me.”
Jackson turns and moves to the window, stopping with one foot on the ledge. “Take care of your side, or I’ll be back to do it for you,” he says calmly, then slips out into the night before I can tell him not to bother with his promise.
There’s no way he can fix what’s already broken.