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I shake my head and his eyes narrow.

It’s as if he’s trying to talk himself out of asking, but he does it anyway. “Why?”

“I don’t trust them.”

A heavy strain tugs at his forehead, his eyes bouncing between mine. “You sayin’ you trust me?”

I don’t know why, but...

“Yes.”

He swallows, looking away only to come right back, his expression now empty.

He bends, bringing his face closer to mine all to shift at the last second, his lips now level with my ear so he can whisper his reproach. “That, right there... is your first mistake.”

He slides along my back, disappearing in seconds.

His vanishing act prompts the doors to the SUV to open, and all at once, four pairs of eyes land on me.

The girls climb out, the boys right behind them.

Victoria speaks first, and with a vivid grin. “What do you say, guys, isn’t she perfectly unsuspecting?”

She looks to the others with a brow raised and they nod.

Raven winks while Maddoc takes a step closer to me.

“Brielle Bishop.” He cocks his head. “How’s your poker game?”

I smile.

Here we go.Chapter 14BrielleIt’s surreal, movie-like, how the crowd literally parts, leaving a wide path for their kings and queens to slide through with ease, and to do so with zero hostility rolling off of any of them is something to be noted.

All these people, they’re happy to be here and recognize it hurts them none to give those who own and run this place the respect they should, and space they need, to settle their minds.

It’s rare.

Motivating.

As is the rawness of this place.

These guys, they’re richer than Wall Street. You’d think they’d need the biggest and brightest of life, but this place is far from a rich boy’s fantasy.

It’s a punk’s paradise.

Grit and goons.

It’s everything my brother loves.

Iron walls three, maybe four times my height wrap for all around, forming a giant oval-like shape, massive sheets of mismatched metal woven between them, caging the outside world off and leaving nothing but the one created within it—a pit of dark and dirty.

The energy is wild, high-spirited, and enticing, and this is only the outside.

The far right corner is where we’re headed, toward a giant floor to ceiling steel door that sits inches open and is guarded by a beast of a guy with the baddest braids I’ve ever seen. A guy whose eyes have just landed on me, but quickly jump along the group.

His hand lifts, coming down on the thing twice, and it’s thrown open instantly.

He slips to the side and Raven steps through, Maddoc at her back, Captain and Victoria right behind them, me on the tail.

I don’t walk straight in as they do, though.

My steps slow in the doorway, and I pull in a lungful of air.

My limbs prickle with eagerness, chilling my body only for my skin to warm a second later as I take in every inch of the place.

Black, white, and royal blue are the colors that make up the room. There’s a giant wolf’s head painted in the middle of the largest wall, a couple card games going on in one corner—one being poker—various TVs playing sports highlights hanging in several areas, with small tables and couches strategically placed all around. A long bar lines the back, fully stocked and lit with LED lights.

I spot Chloe and Mac and my curiosity is officially piqued when he walks her backward, and the two disappear completely behind a long black curtain in the front right corner.

I take in the room once more, and my chest expands with another full breath.

The lighting’s low, music’s high, and the air’s painted with sweat and smoke, with promiscuity.

A risqué, rugged retreat.

A small smile pulls at my lips as I reach back, gripping the edge of the door, and shift slightly to look outside.

This place, it’s gold.

A hidden haven for people like me, those of us raring for freedom not so easily found, an underground world designed to erase the one we live in, if only for a little while. An escape to color our worlds brighter.

It’s dark and loud, crowded and a little scary but it’s... god, it’s—

“Alive?”

I look over my shoulder to find Royce standing there, drink in hand and nearly empty.

I nod, a small smile on my lips. My attention moves back to the crowd, settling on a group a few feet forward.

They’re dancing under the light of the stars in ripped up cut-offs and cute little crop tops, while the people a few spaces away lean against the crates drinking and laughing, having fun in joggers and tank tops.

I scan the crowd when Royce pushes into my back, speaking near my ear. “The guys in the corner, second group,” he begins. “Look close.”

I stop searching and do as he says, my awareness heightening the longer I study them.

Tension frames their foreheads and keeps their shoulders tight.

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