Page 98 of Midnight Curfew

Leaping out of the door, I can’t hear anyone coming after me, but any second now…

Twisting my head left to right, I don’t see the car. “What the fuck?” I grit out.

He said it would take me home when I was ready. Shit!

A door slams, footfalls hitting the stairs behind me, and I run. “Fuck!”

I left my shirt and jacket inside, too. Dammit.

Digging in my heels, I race down the driveaway, but a golf cart speeds up next to me on the green.

“Let’s go!” Iron yells, Trace sitting next to him.

The door to the field house swings open behind us, and I hear their battle cry. “Let’s go!”

Every hair on my body rises, and I leap onto the golf cart as Iron steers over the grass.

Wind in our hair, we sail through the night, an engine revving to life behind us.

“This will be a story someday!” Trace sings as he holds the bar in front of him for support.

“Don’t even think about it,” I grumble. “I’m embarrassed for all of us.”

But I can’t stop the smile anyway. If we get out of this, it’ll be hilarious for Callum to always know we barely took him seriously enough to warrant a proper getaway car.

“It’s a golf course.” Iron twists his neck, all of us watching the Audi charging down the drive, alongside the green and gaining on us. “A golf cart made sense.”

I nod. “It’s actually clever.”

We can be on the course, and they can’t.

We can slip between trees, into yards, and just about any other place.

A horn honks, headlights coming up on our side, and Iron veers to the right. I lock eyes with Callum as Jerome drives. His vest and shirt are gone, and I crook my finger at him, daring him.

He just watches me.

I fist the bars, trying to hide how his calm unnerves me. As if he knows something I don’t. He knows how to play.

“So what was it like?” Iron asks me.

The Wolfe Room?

I don’t know.

It was everything I thought it would be and more. They’re creative. Callum was right. It’s all about power, but it didn’t feel like I thought it would, either.

Shallow. Indulgent. Hollow.

Did I like those women’s husbands watching their wives touch me?

“It lived up to the stories,” I say. “Beautiful women, striking atmosphere, and every deviant kink you can dream up. And that wasn’t even the worst of it.” I hang off the side of the cart as Iron coasts around a sand trap. “Apparently, there’s another room that’s more fucked up.”

“What did you see?” Trace exclaims.

I just laugh. “I didn’t get into that room tonight.”

“You going back in?” Iron presses.