Chapter 38
CHAPTER
THIRTY-EIGHT
NOLA
“I don’t know about this,” I tell Callie as we stand outside a club wearing dresses that hardly cover our asses. I’m also wearing makeup that I normally don’t wear, which makes me a little bit self-conscious.
“It’s going to be fun!” Callie grins, practically bouncing with excitement.
“We’ll have a few drinks and dance. We’re young, Lola.
We’re hot. We should be living our best lives!
As much fun as it is to go to the movies, or the zoo, or any of our regular activities, I think it’s fun to change it up, too, and experience other things. Well, at least once.”
“But we’re eighteen,” I whisper. “We’re not old enough to be going to clubs.” Not to mention if the guys knew I was here, they would lose their ever-loving shit.
Not because I can’t drink or that I’m not allowed to do this kind of thing, because if I wanted to and asked them, they would be right here with me. It’s the fact that they don’t know.
The idea of other men watching me or showing any sort of interest sends them over the edge in murderous jealousy.
That is why they think Callie and I are at the movies watching a late-night showing of some new slasher flick.
I don’t like lying to them, but Callie begged me to come and insisted that having her brother hanging around her would be a buzzkill. She just wanted some bestie alone time.
I agreed because I feel bad that I haven’t been able to spend as much time with her lately as we used to before. Between school and spending any free time that the guys have with them, it doesn’t leave much time for Callie.
And I’ll be damned if I become one of those girls who drop their friends just because she’s got a boyfriend.
Boys come and go, besties are for life.
Although these guys aren’t going anywhere because I’d kill them if they tried. Or at the very least, lock them up in my basement and keep them captive as my prisoners. But you get what I mean.
“That's what these are for.” Callie hands me an ID. A fake one that says I’m twenty-two.
“Carrie Lockwood.” I raise a brow.
“Nice to meet you, Carrie.” Callie grins. “I’m Laura Miller.” She holds up her own fake ID.
I love this girl, but does she not understand that her brother and his best friends own this town? Sure, not every single person here will know who they are, but a lot of them do.
And if they know who Sylas, Jasper, and Wesley are, there’s a good chance they will know who we are.
Still, I don’t say anything, not wanting to burst her bubble.
When we get to the front of the line, the bouncer looks at our IDs and then back at us before handing them back. That’s when I realize I have nothing to worry about.
“Let’s go get drinks!” Callie shouts over the music as soon as we get inside.
I look around, getting a feel for the place. It’s not bad. Nothing crazy special, but it seems nice enough. Doesn’t stink, isn’t too crowded.
Callie said this place was a hidden gem that she’d heard about and has been dying to come to.
I didn’t know she was into the club scene. I, however, could live without it.
On the other hand, I don’t like being a negative person, so I plan on enjoying this night and having fun with my best friend.
“Here.” Callie hands me a drink as soon as I catch up with her at the bar.
“What's in it?” I ask.
“It’s a pornstar. You’re going to love it, trust me.”
I bring the glass to my lips and take a sip. My eyes widen. “Shit, this is good!” I exclaim.
“See?” she laughs, taking a drink of her own.
We take a few more sips before Callie looks around. “Let’s finish these so we can go dance."
Nodding, I lean against the bar as I watch the people around me.
There are groups of girls laughing and dancing together, guys standing off to the side watching them with interest. College kids, from the looks of it.
Part of me wonders if this is what I should be doing, too, getting the whole college experience.
Then I really think about it, and… it’s just not for me. Sure, I don’t mind getting drunk and having fun with Callie, but it’s not something I feel the need to do all the time.
I don’t need to get drunk or high to have fun. And I don’t see anything exciting about going out dancing every weekend.
I’d much rather spend my time doing something exciting, something that will give me memories to look back on.
Like murdering someone or getting chased by crazy, hot, tattooed men in masks.
Oh! I’ve always wanted to try crocheting, that could be fun!
“Done,” Callie declares, setting her drink down on the bar top.
“Oh.” I look down, seeing that my glass is still half full.
“Come on,” she laughs, putting my drink down. “Let’s dance.”
Grinning, I shake my head and let her pull me out onto the dance floor.
They’re playing a mix of older and newer club songs. All I care about is that it has a good beat, a good bass, and isn’t a slow song.
Lush Life by Zara Larsson starts to play, causing Callie and me to turn to one another with big grins. She grabs my hands, tangling her fingers with mine, lifting them in the air. We start to dance, rocking our hips, singing along.
A smile stretches across my face, the drink already making its way through my system. How many shots did Callie have the bartender put in it?
Doesn’t matter, I’m feeling good and having fun.
Callie and I sing, dance, and laugh our way through the next twenty or so songs.
In between songs, we head to the bar to get more drinks or shots.
We’re three drinks in, and I’m feeling good. Really fucking good. A little too good.
My head is feeling a little funny, but I don’t pay it any mind.
Seven by Jung Kook starts playing. Closing my eyes, I sing along, letting my body sway to the music. Callie sings along; that girl’s feeling the alcohol just as much as I am.
Opening my heavy lids, I giggle as we lock eyes. Callie pulls me into her arms, and we burst out in giggles as we trip over our feet, but we keep singing and dancing.
After the song is over, the next one starts to play.
“Ahhh,” Callie and I both scream in excitement, hearing Ashnikko’s Sticky Fingers begin. Turning around, I bring my ass to Callie’s front. Bending over, Callie starts to dance against my ass as we loudly sing the lyrics. I can feel eyes on me. I’m assuming from the guys around us watching us.
Too bad for them, we’re off limits. Callie might say otherwise, but she’s got it bad for Garrett. If she tried to get with another guy, I know Garrett would do the same thing my guys would and end that man's life. As he should!
A wave of nausea hits me, making me panic.
Standing up, I step away from Callie, making sure I don’t puke.
“Are you okay?” Callie asks, shouting over the music.
I shake my head. “I don’t feel good. I need to splash some water on my face.”
“I’ll go get us some ice water,” she offers.
“Okay.” I nod. “I’ll be right back.”
Blinking heavy lids, I try to ignore the spinning room as I stumble my way to the bathroom.
Thankfully, there’s no line, so I head right in. There are a few girls at the sink, but they give me room as I turn the tap on cold.
I forget all about the makeup I have on as I cup the water and submerge my face in it a few times.
It feels amazing against my hot skin, helping the nausea subside a little bit.
I think tonight is over. I want to go home, go to bed, and pray I don’t have a hangover. How do I explain this to the guys? They’re going to know the moment they see me.
I splash my face one last time with the cool water and shut off the tap.
One of the girls who just left must have sprayed a ton of perfume because I’m hit in the face with an over-the-top sweet smell. All of a sudden, a soft cloth covers my face, making me jolt with surprise. Unintentionally, I suck in a deep breath of that sickeningly sweet scent. What is that smell?
This isn’t good, fuck!
I try to fight back, but I feel myself going limp, my eyes fluttering closed. Yup. I regret going out to a bar.
I’m totally fucked.
My head pounds, like someone has taken a jackhammer to it from the inside, and I’m on the verge of shaking because I’m so cold. Groaning, I force my heavy lids to open.
For a second, I think I’m in my bed, waking up after a night of drinking with Callie, but as everything comes into view, I realize that this isn’t my room.
“What the…” I ask disoriented, confused about what's going on. “Where am I?”
My voice is thick, raspy, and sore.
I’m not lying down flat on my back, more like in a reclined seated position. So I try to sit up, but my body is too weak. I attempt to reach up to rub my hands over my face, hoping it will help wake myself up, but I find I can’t do that either.
I do manage to lift my head enough to look around me, though.
A spark of fear shoots through me.
No. There’s no fucking way.
I try to move my arms again, but nothing. Because they’re fucking pinned down to the armrests by brown leather straps.
With every breath I take, my panic grows, making my heart race wildly. It’s not just my arms; my legs are strapped together, too. As my eyes travel up my body, I see a matching leather strap across my shoulders.
And the kicker is… I’m butt ass naked.
That would explain why I’m so damn cold.
This has got to be a dream, right? There’s no way this is real.
My guys would never allow someone to take me. They would burn the world down to protect me.
Only, they didn’t know where I was… fuck!
Chest heaving, I blink my eyes a few more times, trying to focus my vision. I wish I didn’t, because oh my god, it’s a fucking scene out of a horror movie.
I’m in some kind of medical room. But not your typical one, like in a hospital. This place looks old, and kind of reminds me of something from an old school insane asylum.
You know… when I thought about my death, this was not how I thought I’d go.
“Hello?” I call out, then slam my mouth shut because why the hell would I want whoever did this to come back?
God, are they going to do some kind of fucked up experiment on me? Torture me alive, then dispose of my body after.