Chapter 21 KATIE
KATIE
I swing the car into a space directly opposite the nightclub doors and turn off the engine. The pulsating music and vibrant lights spill out onto the street, along with the laughter and chatter of the clubgoers shuffling into the smoking area.
I spent a good two hours overthinking what the hell I was supposed to wear tonight.
After all, I’m just here to collect keys from Aiden; I should just be able to show up in my casual attire.
But then again, the Orion is known for its dress code, and I didn’t want to risk being turned away at the door.
If you can’t get in wearing runners, there wasn’t a hope in hell that I was getting in wearing a hoodie.
I was just going to toss on a pair of wedges, leggings, and a nice top, then I had a think about it.
Aiden is the owner. Aiden is constantly surrounded by very beautiful, very fit women.
Aiden is my boyfriend. And not only do I not want to come across as his frumpy, awkward-as-hell girlfriend, but I also don’t want to feel insecure about my appearance compared to the women inside.
I’m thirty-three; I have no business being in a feckin’ nightclub anymore.
My clubbin’ days are well behind me. My ankles remind me of that in these heels as I try to remember how to walk in them.
Stepping out of the car, I get in past the doormen in record time; thankfully, the lines have dwindled.
The bass thumps through my chest as I step inside, immediately surrounded by half-drunk strangers dancing and laughing.
Ok, bouncer. Bar staff. That’s who Aiden told me to ask, so why can’t I seem to see a damn bouncer in this place?
Bar it is then if I can get at it.
I squeeze my way through the crowd, careful to avoid being wedged by any touchy strangers and wait for someone to notice me in the sea of faces. Thankfully, a barman, I put at about twenty-three, leans over the counter, waiting to hear my order.
“Is Aiden around?” I yell over the music, hoping he can hear me.
He gives me a confused look before shaking his head. “What?”
“Aiden? AJ…Quinn?” I don’t know what the hell they know him as. I’m grasping at straws here. “He told me to ask for him when I got here.”
He has the gall to look at me and give me the once-over. Cheeky bastard.
“AJ?” He repeats, raising his voice to be heard over the music.
“Yes, AJ! Tall, tattoos, permanent scowl on his face!” I hate people; I really do. Why are people idiots?
He opens his mouth, closes it, and then I see him tap his earpiece and say something to the person on the other end.
I feel a gentle tap on my shoulder, turning, I’m instantly met with a set of warm eyes. “Katie?”
“Cillian,” there is no hiding the look of surprise on my face. “What are you doing here?”
“Stags weekend,” he replies with a smirk. I don’t miss the way his eyes rake over me. “You’re looking well.”
I look like I’m about to shove this stiletto down that barman’s throat. Stupid prick.
“Thanks.”
“Can I get you a drink?”
“No thanks, I’m just waiting on someone.”
“You’re on a date in a nightclub?” He raises an eyebrow, clearly amused.
“I am in me bollocks!” Chewing my lower lip, I glance back at the barman, who has now made it his business to avoid me like the plague and disappear to the other end of the bar.
Thanks for nothing, arsehole!
“With friends, then?” Cillian smirks, leaning over me, when another bartender decides he is the lucky one in the swarming crowd to be served. “Are you sure I can’t get you anything?”
“No thanks, I’m fine!”
Stupid Aiden. Stupid Dublin. Stupid fucking nightclub. I should be at home reading with my piggies!
Ushering me away from the crowd of impatient patrons, Cillian leads me towards a quieter corner. I ignore the cheers from whom I can only assume are his friends, the ones chanting “Get stuck in!” As Cillian and I make a beeline to the staircase opposite the dance floor.
Cillian leans in closer, his voice barely audible over the booming music. “Whoever he is, he’s an arsehole.”
“You can say that again,” I mutter, still annoyed at the whole situation.
I glimpse the pitiful look in Cillian’s eye and think about what he just said.
“Oh, no!” I exclaim. “I haven’t been abandoned,” again, “or stood up.” Unlike my ex, who abandoned me in a nightclub in fucking Essex to go off and ride some randomer, I know Aiden is somewhere in the building, though that somewhere remains a mystery.
I’m going to kick his head in for this.
I’m usually in my pyjamas by 5 p.m.
Right now, I’ve got a short dress on that’s as tight as a second skin, and a lace thong that’s trying to fit into places it shouldn’t be, all in the name of trying to surprise that bastard.
This is where making an effort gets me; I’d rather look homeless and be comfy than be out here, smelling like potent desperation.
Would it be bad form for me to dump Aiden via text right now? I feel this is a dumpable offence.
One of Cillian’s friends comes over, and I instantly cringe. He’s loud, he reeks of B.O, and I’m pretty sure he’s off his head. He tries to slide an arm around my waist, and I quickly step away, avoiding his touch. “Don’t touch me.”
“What have we got here?”
“Clearly someone who doesn’t know their limit.”
Cillian snorts into his bottle of Bud. “Go back to the table, yeah?” He motions for his friend to leave me alone.
Unfortunately, the idiot doesn’t get the hint. He tries to approach me again, but Cillian intervenes.
“Look,” I say to Cillian, ignoring the grabby arsehole to my left.
“I’m going to,” I toss a thumb over my shoulder and turn to leave, only to feel a hand grab my arm, pulling me back.
“I said don’t fucking touch me!” My hand flies instinctively, connecting with the idiot’s face.
The force of the blow sends him stumbling backward. “Arsehole!”
Fuck this, I’m going home.
As I walk away, I can hear Cillian shouting at the idiot for his inappropriate behaviour. A bouncer steps out in front of me and raises his hand, signalling for me to stop. “Out you go, love.”
“I was fucking leaving anyway, you prick!” Shoving past him, I get two steps ahead before I turn and glare at him. “Where were you two minutes ago when I was being assaulted? Useless piece of shit. Now you have the neck to tell me to get out while you leave him in here?”
He steps for me, grabbing my arm and pulling me towards the exit.
“Get the fuck off me!”
“As soon as you’re out that door, I’ll let go,” he says, his grip tightening.
I don’t know if it’s rage or panic; touch is a massive trigger for me, and his touch is sending me into a spiral. I claw, punch, and kick at him, desperate to break free from his grasp. “Get off—”
I’m just about to punch him square in the nose when he’s ripped from me. Aiden picks him up from the floor and throws him against the wall.
The bouncer stumbles to his feet, staggering right into Aiden’s fist. Blood splatters across the wall as the bouncer collapses, unconscious.
Aiden’s eyes are wild with adrenaline as he turns to me, concern replacing his anger.
“Bug,” he’s breathing heavily, suddenly right in front of me, checking me for any injuries. “Are you okay?”
Tears threaten to spill from my eyes as I nod. This has been both humiliating and triggering. “I fuckin’ told you I didn’t want to come here!” I spin for the door. I just want to go home.
“Where are you goin’?”
“Home!”
He grabs hold of my hips and pulls me back. “No, you’re not.”
“I am!”
His fingers close around my throat, pinning the back of my head to his chest. “No,” he all but snarls. “You’re not driving home when you’re like this.”
“AJ?” A voice comes from behind us.
Aiden releases his grip on my neck, turns, and tucks me under his arm protectively. “Escort this piece of shit from the building,” he tilts his chin to the body on the floor. “He can find another job elsewhere because he no longer has one here.”
I glance up to see another bouncer approaching us, his expression stern. Aiden’s grip tightens around me as he leads me back into the club. “It’s ok, bug. I’ve got you now.”
It’s like the entire nightclub has fallen silent, all eyes on us as we make our way through the crowd. The music continues to thump in the background, but there’s an undeniable tension in the air. People exchange curious glances, trying to piece together what just happened.
He guides me past the bar and asks, “Do you want anything to drink, bug?”
I lock eyes with the bartender from earlier. “I want to kick that cunt in the teeth.”
“Maybe later,” Aiden grins, kissing me on the forehead. We make our way to the stairs when I spot the prick who groped me.
I don’t even need to tell him; from the way Aiden’s eyes narrow to slits and his jaw clenches, he knows exactly what happened.
“Keith,” he calls out, his voice low and dangerous. A bouncer steps out of the shadows by the stairs. “Take Katie upstairs; I’ll be up in a minute.” The bouncer nods and escorts me away, leaving Aiden glaring at the arsehole a few feet away.
“What’s he going to do?” I turn to the bouncer, noticing his dark hair and muscular build.
“He’s going to have a little chat with him,” he replies with a knowing smirk. “Trust me, he won’t be causing any more trouble tonight.”
“I hope Aiden throttles him,” I mutter under my breath.
Keith holds the door to the office open for me as we make our way inside.
Ok, so office is a serious understatement. It’s more like a luxurious three-bedroom apartment. It’s huge. The thick walls and plush carpet drown out the sound coming from the DJ booth. The dim light is thankfully soft and soothing, something I need right now as I fight off a thumping headache.
“Can I get you anything?” Keith asks, gesturing to the mini fridge and bar in the corner.