Had I upset him by handing out baked goods to his gym buddies?
Or had it been in the locker room, when he asked about the bruises on my neck, and I shut him out?
My heart clenched.
It couldn’t be that. Just couldn’t. Because if it was… I couldn’t tell him. I couldn’t admit to him what my father was like behind closed doors. Tristian would blow his top. There’d be a confrontation no doubt. And whatever happened next, my father would forbid me from ever seeing him again.
I was still going over this sickening possibility when we arrived at the club. My stomach, already tense, did a slow roll. I wasn’t used to this part of town; the shadows felt longer here, and the people lounging on the corners seemed scary. As they began stripping off their jackets, I pulled mine closer.
May gave me a sharp look. “Ingrid. You’re not going in with your jacket. It’s going to be hot. Leave it in the car.”
I took it off slowly, my skin crawling as I noticed the driver watching me through the rearview mirror. I didn’t like this, not one bit.Why had I come out? Why hadn’t I just gone to Tristian’s apartment and hammered on the door for answers? Why couldn’t I be with him now, instead of here, where I felt so unsafe and so on show in this clinging white dress Amber and May had thrust on me?It wasn’t me at all.
I felt like I was spiraling, and I hadn’t even got out of the car yet.
I checked my phone one last time. Still nothing from Tristian. So, against all the screaming fibers in my body telling me not to, I followed May out of the car.
The bouncer gave us a once-over and let us into the club, a place called The Obsidian, without a word.
The inside of the club was a sensory assault. The music was loud and pounding, the air thick with liquor and cigar smoke. I stared wide-eyed at the strippers and the waitresses who wore next to nothing. This wasn’t a regular club. It was massive—multiple floors, balconies, VIP rooms, and bars that looked like they belonged in a palace. I felt completely out of place. A lamb wandering into a wolf’s den.
They started with shots. While they threw back three in a row, I struggled with the first. It was searing and bitter.
“Loosen up, Ingrid!” Amber slurred, her smile wide and vacant.
They pulled me toward the dance floor, and in the chaos of grinding bodies, I lost track of them. Panic set in as I felt the hands of strangersbrush against my hips and waist. I scrambled away, wobbling back to the bar like a baby deer. I sat on a stool, my eyes stinging.
The bartender, a man covered in intricate tattoos, watched me for a moment before sliding a cup toward me.
“N-no, thank you,” I said, shaking my head.
He tilted his head. “It’s apple juice. Your friends tried forcing you to drink tequila earlier, and I thought you’d want something… familiar.”
I thanked him softly and took a sip. It was sweet and cool going down my throat.
He leaned over the counter, his expression unreadable. “I know you don’t belong here. I think you know that too.”
I nodded, the weight of the night too much for me to bear alone. “M-My friends dragged me out, a-and I didn’t want to come. I lost them on the dance floor, and p-people kept touching my hips and waist.”
“Horny bastards…” he muttered, cleaning a glass. “Dress like that in a place like this, you’re gonna attract that kind of attention.”
I looked down at the white dress and felt a wave of shame. If this dress was an invitation for that kind of attention, I never wanted to wear it again.
“Tell you what…” He looked back at me. “Stay here at the bar with me for a while, and I’ll call you an Uber if your friends don’t decide to sober up soon.”
I nodded, feeling a small spark of gratitude. He moved off to help other customers, and I found a pen, beginning to draw patterns and objects on the napkins in front of me, my session with Tristian at the park filling my mind all over again.
It was all I could do to distract myself from the heaving chaos of the bar, all those people so close and pressing ever closer as the night drew on and their inebriation rose. I thought of him again and again. I tried not to think about how badly I wanted him here.
The bartender returned. “Babygirl… there’s been a change in plans.”
I tilted my head, my heart rate picking up. Across the bar, a strange man stood watching, waiting.
The bartender nodded to him. “Someone important needs to see you, so I have to let you go. This man will be the one to take you.”
I looked at the massive, muscular man standing beside me. I shook my head, fear paralyzing my throat.
The bartender leaned in. “No arguing… I don’t want you to get into any trouble, okay?”
