Chapter 23
Lily
“Give me your best pout!” Kaitlyn says as we pose for a selfie. We’re standing outside a random Irish bar on Clark Street. She checks the photo. “Will that do?”
“Perfect,” I grin.
When she posts it on her Instagram, we teeter past the bar in our heels and find a cab to take us south towards the river. I’d booked an Uber to get us here, but this is where my trail will go cold. I’m paying cash to get us to our next destination.
The cab pulls up outside Syndella. It’s just around the corner from our favorite night spot, but has none of Heatrush’s understated sophistication. The flickering neon light should act as a warning to keep away, but on the plus side, I doubt we’ll have to beg the bouncers to let us inside.
Kaitlyn pulls a face. Up until now, she’s been fully on board with my plan.
Her face had lit up when she’d seen my invite, until I pointed out that it was admittance strictly for one.
She might have Simon wrapped around her little finger, but even he couldn’t get her upstairs if she’s not on the list.
She thinks this is me paying Shade back for missing my best friend off my invite, but the message I’m sending him is one that’s strictly between the two of us. He can’t control every aspect of my life, especially not without my knowledge. I have free will, and I’m about to enjoy it.
“Seriously, Lily, that dress is too good for a place like this.”
“Maybe, but I want Shade to suffer, and this dress is the perfect ammunition,” I say, smoothing a hand over the velvet that clings to my body.
Kaitlyn scowls at the dive we’re about to enter. “How long before he caves and grants us both VIP access? I miss Heatrush,” she whines.
“I doubt we’ll need to be here long,” I say to comfort her. I’m in less of a rush. By the end of tonight, I’ll know if Shade and I have a future together. Or not. “Come on, let’s take another selfie.”
“Fine,” she mutters. “Just give me the nod when you want me to post it, and I’ll send up the bat signal.”
The club is dark and dank, and the music makes up in volume for what it lacks in sound quality. It’s busier than I expected, and people genuinely seem to be having fun, but the floor is sticky and when we retreat to a booth, the table is covered in beer stains.
I pull paper napkins from a container and mop up the spillage as best I can. “I need a drink.”
Kaitlyn scans the crowd. “I’ll get the first round. I don’t think a server is going to show up with free cocktails anytime soon.”
Her comment inadvertently pulls me back to our first visit to Heatrush. And Shade’s lecture about accepting drinks.
“We should probably stick to beers,” I say. “And remember, keep hold of your bottle at all times with your thumb over the top when you’re not drinking.”
As I wait for Kaitlyn to return from the bar, I can only imagine how furious Shade will be when he finds out where I am.
And not because I’ve stood him up. I’m out of his sight in a place that comes with a guarantee rather than a risk of being groped, or worse.
Shade has an overwhelming need to protect me, and whatever the outcome tonight, I doubt that will change.
He said himself that he never lets go of things he doesn’t want to lose.
When Kaitlyn reappears, my heart sinks. She’s being accompanied by two men, and by the way she’s giggling with the taller one, my friend has already chosen her victim for the night.
The quieter man gives me an apologetic smile, and slides into the bench seat next to me.
He looks to be in his thirties and has a receding hairline and a beer gut.
Your average kind of guy. Unremarkable. Easily forgettable. Not like Shade at all.
He sets four beer bottles in the middle of the table. So much for Kaitlyn not letting our drinks out of her sight. I pause, but neither of our new acquaintances force us to choose any particular bottle, which has to be a good sign. I take the one nearest me.
“I’m Toby,” the quiet guy says, lifting his bottle to clink with mine.
“Lily.” I scratch a nail against the label, but I don’t take a drink.
The guy on the opposite side takes a swig of beer then sets down his bottle. “I don’t know about you,” he says to Kaitlyn. “But I didn’t come here to sit on my ass all night. And you’re too pretty to hide in a corner.”
Beer spills from the corner of Kaitlyn’s mouth as she’s pulled up from her seat mid-gulp. She holds back long enough to check on me. “Did you want to dance?”
“You go,” I say. “I’m fine here.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye on your friend,” Toby assures her.
Now I’m going to have to wait for Kaitlyn to come back before we can post our photo and give Shade the next clue to my whereabouts.
I’d almost be tempted to phone him, but Shade being Shade, I don’t have his number.
And do I really want him showing up and beating poor Toby to a pulp just for keeping me company?
I sip my beer as Toby tries to strike up a conversation.
He has to lean in close, and I shiver as his nose brushes my hair.
He isn’t great at small talk, and I don’t make it easy with my one-word answers.
My shoulder presses against the wall of the booth, and I’m starting to feel hemmed in.
I down more beer as I look longingly towards the dance floor for signs of Kaitlyn’s return.
“We could dance,” Toby suggests, his hand stroking my bare arm.
“Maybe,” I say, shuddering. At least I’d have more space.
When my cell buzzes in my purse, I fumble with the clasp to reach it. I squint at the screen. It’s a missed call, and I can guess who it is. I picture Shade tapping furiously on his cell, and I’m not surprised when a text message appears seconds later.
Shade: Tell me where you are, Slayer.
Toby reaches for my cell and turns it so he can read the message too. “Who’s Shade?” he asks.
“My boyfriend,” I say. I smack my lips together.
They feel slightly numb and my tongue isn’t moving as it should.
“I should reply…” I frown at the screen.
I could actually reply. The number hasn’t been withheld.
And my phone identifies Shade as the sender.
Did he add himself to my contacts list when he had my phone at the lodge?
Have I had his number all week and not noticed? That thought alone makes me dizzy.
Toby pulls my cell from my grasp and shoves it back in my purse. “That’s very careless of him, losing track of a beautiful woman like you,” he says. “Do we need to teach him a lesson?”
That makes me laugh. Yes, I do, but not with Toby. “You have no idea who you’re dealing with.”
“No, because he’s not here, Lily,” Toby reminds me. He puts his hand on my thigh and squeezes. “But I am.”
“Not inter… rested,” I say, forcing the words out as I peel his fingers off me.
I peer through the darkness, searching for Kaitlyn to save me from this creep. My vision swims. I feel drunk from half a beer. That can’t be right.
That isn’t right. Oh, fuck.
“What’s wro… wrong with me?”
“Nothing’s wrong, baby. I’m here to look after you.”
I ignore the beer bottle Toby slides in front of me, and look towards the dance floor. I think I see Kaitlyn. She could be dancing, or is she trying to escape the crowd to get to me? I can’t tell, and then the dance floor consumes her again. The strobe lights bring on a wave of nausea.
“I feel sick.” But I want to cry.
“Come on, it looks like you need some fresh air.”