20. Twenty
Twenty
Sara
Artemis and Anne walk in front of me, led by the host who thanked us for coming on the big opening night. Apparently, our presence will make a difference in the future of this place, and maybe it will. I don’t really care.
Two months have passed since I last saw Liam; I ache for Joe and shamelessly hate that Liam left me as if I mean nothing.
Someone has been following and watching me, which you could define as stalking.
The concerning part is that I have grown accustomed to it.
It all feels like there’s a gathering storm of dark clouds and ferocity rolling through me.
Maybe this is grief's next phase, but whatever is brewing inside me now, is ready to explode.
The host attempts to slide his hand down the small of my back, but I flinch and shoot him a look sharp enough to speak for itself.
He immediately removes his hand and steers us ahead.
I’ve grown paranoid, I’ve already scoped the exits, the bathroom, even looking for windows.
Luckily, there aren’t any, which means fewer chances of lurking eyes.
When I received the invite, I was hoping it was for one of those poker games I’ve been patiently waiting for, but there’s no word on that front, as frustrating as that is.
“Here you go. Your server will be right with you. In the meantime, we’ve got a bottle of Dom on the house coming.” The host says once we reach our table.
As we nod thankfully, Artemis sits in the booth like a feline about to rule her throne.
She’s in a red mesh tutu, a crop top, and high heels.
As always, she's breathtaking and unapologetically herself.
Anne is in a tight black dress that clings to her every curve, looking like an exotic treat as she flicks ash from her thin, very-Vogue cigarette.
Brown hair falls across her face as she takes a drag and exhales smoke through her signature red lips.
I scan the room, loving to people-watch.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spot a security guard scowling at her for smoking.
Before he can march over, the owner whispers in his ear, and the guard stiffens, eyes flicking to Anne with irritation and fascination as if he wonders why she can bend the rules.
My dark red dress crawls up my thighs as I cross one leg over the other.
I usually avoid color, but a blood-red dress suits my mood tonight.
Private rooms line the perimeter, some with frosted windows revealing only silhouettes, others with clear glass showcasing couples in passionate embrace that leave nothing to the imagination.
This club is beautiful; I’ll give it that.
It’s a temple of indulgence, sophisticated in its immorality.
“Artemis, is this a sex cl—?” I murmur, trying to hide my unease.
“Yup. A fancy one,” she purrs.
“Sara, breathe,” Anne says, blowing smoke in my face and locking eyes with the security guy.
“I’m breathing just fine—” I cough from her smoke.
“You’re the one who needs to breathe. Are you snacking on him tonight?” I tease.
“If he wanders into one of those rooms and keeps looking at me like that… I might give him more than lip stains,” she replies, scanning me up and down. “Wanna join?” Her grin is wicked, and she knows how quickly I get uncomfortable, but this place feels strangely liberating.
“I need a drink before I make any bad decisions.” I swallow and scan the room for our bottle to arrive. Just as I ponder being too sober for this, hands cover my eyes and my heart jolts.
“Guess who?” A deep voice asks. I recognize the scent at once, and my stomach twists.
“Tyler?” I whisper.
His hand tightens, warm breath tickling my ear. “Good answer.” He rumbles. He whisks his hands away and stands before me—tall, green-eyed, dark brown hair falling on his forehead, sleeves rolled up. He looks handsome, though everything in me screams to stay away.
“How are you?” I force a smile.
“I’m great, Babygirl. I didn't expect to see you here... out of all places.”
“I didn't know what this place was, but I… like it. It's just…not my type of scene though, you know what I mean?”
That stirs him, and I can see something flashing in his eyes. “Hopefully there’s room for a little convincing then?” He looks around the place. “Your bodyguard isn’t here?”
“No, he isn’t. He probably won’t be for a while.” I explain, trying to keep down the urge to claw my heart out for feeling the way I do since he left.
“When are we going on a date, then?” Tyler asks, and I feel exasperated.
“I think we’ve crossed that bridge, haven’t we?” I say as he scoots over to sit closer to me and leans in to whisper in my ear.
“You’ve made that clear, sweetheart, but anyone can reconsider?” He grazes my cheek with his thumb, and I want to smack his hand away.
The bottle of Dom arrives, held by multiple servers, wobbling through the crowd with flickering sparklers, heads turning at the cliché display with “Wold Hold On (Children Of The Sky)” from Bob Sinclar blaring throughout the club.
“I really want to hang out… again,” he says louder through the intoxicating music, and my heart sinks from missing Joe, and my skin stings at the thought of Liam.
Artemis sways her hips and chugs a shot of vodka a server brings us, handing me one too, and I don’t hesitate to shoot it down my throat.
“What’s the saying? Dream or die trying...?” I ask.
Tyler laughs, genuine and loud. “It’s get rich or die trying!”
“Well, for you it’s dream.” I smirk. “Tyler…this is just not the right time for me…”
“It’s Okay, Sara… I’ll be patient, one day, I’ll make you fucking dream.”
I walked right into that one. He kisses my cheek and thankfully drifts away.
I finally exhale and pour myself a drink, then glance at the girls, trying to piece back together the ten minutes I’ve lost. Anne is lighting another cigarette right in front of the security guard’s face.
He looms over her tiny frame, muscles twitching under his black suit as if he can’t decide whether to throw her out or throw her against the wall.
She’s loving the attention and the compulsive need to not follow rules.
Artemis is now chatting with Mimi, who must have arrived while Tyler was yapping in my ear.
“Hi, babe!” Mimi says as our eyes lock.
“Mimi! You’re here! Let’s have fun tonight!” I raise my glass and cheer with them.
From our booth, like a throne, I take in the room of people gliding in and out, bodies grinding on the dance floor, pink and red strobes cutting through the haze. A booth with a group of unhinged men spray champagne over the dancing bodies.
Across from us, my gaze snags on a couple kissing so passionately, his hands roaming in her hair possessively and adoringly, it makes my stomach tighten with envy and sadness.
My heart aches for the intimacy Joe and I almost had.
It something real, and beautiful, but then the memory of Liam’s claiming mouth on mine comes crashing down as I clamp my eyes shut to keep from reliving it.
I kissed him back, and I wanted more, but I betrayed myself, kissing a murderer, no less, clearly being drawn to things that shouldn’t set my soul on fire, finding a shameful truth at the edge of danger.
Artemis pulls me from my thinking daze and her long red nails dig into my thigh so hard I hiss,
“Ouch—what the heck, Tattoo?” I grit out between clenched teeth. Tattoo is her childhood nickname; it slips out when I’m rattled.
She grabs my jaw and turns my face toward the entrance. My heart plunges a thousand floors, then surges with furious heat. A rage setting off in the middle of my chest, itching to be released.
"Oh, now this is going to be fun!" Mimi, cackling like a witch, lifts her eyebrows while sipping her drink and knowing damn well my night is ruined.
"Maybe you should go into hiding?" Artemis murmurs, biting her lip in concern.
"Nope. I’m not hiding tonight." I fixate on him, every muscle tensing.
Liam steps into the room in a leather jacket, a white tee, and black pants.
My breath catches, my eyes water, my mouth trembles at his demanding aura that unsettles the entire room around him.
I haven’t seen him in a few months, I forgot how tall he is and how defined his jaw is.
His hair has grown out, his stubble thicker.
He looks… beautifully broken beneath it all.
I feel it and he radiates beautiful pain, but yet complete, merciful control.
“Hey, hey… are you okay?” Artemis leans in, shielding my face with her hair so nobody sees me break apart.
“Yes…I think so. I shouldn’t care at all that he’s here,” I whisper, inhaling slowly. My fingertips tremble against the glass in my hand.
Across the room, Liam doesn’t scan the crowd, instead, he locks eyes with a man at the bar, whom I’d call a silver fox who tilts his chin toward a blonde leaning against the wall.
Without hesitation, Liam approaches her, offers his hand, and they disappear together behind one of the private, pink-lit rooms. Shock is an understatement; the bastard hasn’t been back for over five minutes, and something inside me snaps, which will most likely leave me in a lifelong embarrassment.
“Don’t—Sara!” Mimi lunges for my wrist, but I’m already on my feet.
“Watch me,” I hiss.
I cut through the crowd, my dress clinging to my curves, my heels clinking along the path of destruction.
My moral compass is somewhere deep down the drain because I have no business feeling possessive over him, yet I am livid with a feeling of betrayal clawing at my skin.
As I reach the private room, the security guard, built like a brick wall, steps into my path, but I don’t stop.
“Go ahead, humor me,” I snarl looking at him, challenging him, looking for the owner of this place.
“You can go in there when they're out,” he says sternly, wanting to intimidate me, but the rage I feel should unnerve anyone standing too close. Anne looks at him and I don't know what kind of spell he's under... but he relaxes.