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Dakota grabbed a shot off a tray as we walked through the pulsing club. The waitress turned around to yell at her, but Dakota just threw back the shot, then wiped her mouth with the back of her hand before placing the empty glass back on the tray. I could barely hear my own laughter over the music, but she grinned and grabbed my hand, hauling me toward the bar.
Dakota was a classy woman.
No, she really wasn’t.
She was a‘don’t care what people think, don’t bother trying to impress anyone, who gives a shit what people think’type of woman. And honestly, she was exactly what I needed to show me that I could really be free and outgoing. And I shouldn’t be scared of disappointing people because if it made me happy, and didn’t hurt anyone else, then why the hell should I care whether people agreed with my life choices.
I just wanted to be happy. That was the goal in life. I just needed to stop fighting it.
“I think we’re gonna get in trouble,” she called, leaning right in close to me.
I bit my lip but shrugged. Yeah, I could guarantee it. Ripley and the boys had met a bunch of girls on the street. From what I could tell, they were regulars at the clubhouse, and while I should have stood my ground and rubbed it in their face that I was more important than them—which was unlike me, but at the moment, called for to get them to stop fucking glaring at me like I was trying to have sex with my brother—Dakota and I just wanted to have fun. I didn’t have time for those bullshit games, so we slipped away and found the nightclub the girls from the diner had suggested down the street.
Dakota frowned as she leaned over the counter talking to one of the bar staff who was shrugging and shaking his head. He walked away, and she threw her hands in the air before turning and stomping toward me. She leaned in. “He won’t serve us because we don’t have ID.”
I screwed up my nose, about to tell her we should just go and find Ripley and head back to the clubhouse where we could get trashed. “Can I get you a drink?” a voice growled in my ear. It startled me a little, and I spun around on the barstool almost knocking over the guy who had been standing a little too close for my liking. His mouth was moving, but there was no way in hell I was going to hear him over the bad drum and bass that thumped through the speakers.
I pointed to my ear and shook my head, trying to indicate I had no idea what the hell he was saying, noticing Dakota was doing something similar beside me with who I assumed to be this guy’s friend. He was dressed nice, I guess maybe a little overdressed for a club with a suit on, but he’d tried to tone it down a little by ditching the tie and undoing a couple of buttons. I could appreciate that.
Was I attracted to him?No.
Was I interested in any way at all?No.
But he was offering drinks, and I really wasn’t looking forward to the lecture I was going to get from Ripley and Huntsman after our disappearing act. I needed at least a little bit of alcohol in me for that.
He leaned in closer, placing his mouth right by my ear. “If we head back over there, the music won’t be as loud, and we can have a drink,” he practically yelled. I followed the direction where he was pointing, it was to a part of the club where there was a bouncer with a sign that indicated a VIP bar in the back. When I turned back, he held up a card that had the club’s name on it and the letters VIP.
I quickly looked over at Dakota who met my gaze and shrugged then nodded.
It would be nice to get away from the crazy of the club and the loud music for a little while.
Each of the men were gentlemen, holding out their hands to help us off our barstools before leading us with a hand on the small of our backs toward the VIP area. It was kind of nice to be treated like a princess occasionally.
The music began to dull as we passed by the guard, and as we walked past several doors, the hairs on my neck began to stand on end. The hall was long, but the further we got from the club, the more I started to think maybe there wasn’t a VIP area.
I looked over at Dakota who was frowning as if she was starting to put two and two together, and I pulled to a sudden stop. My date spun around as his hand slipped from my back, his sudden welcoming eyes narrowed beneath a heavy brow.
“We changed our minds,” I announced, standing tall and reaching for Dakota. Her hand stretched out to meet mine, but she was quickly tugged away with such force that her small body flew into the hallway wall with a sickening thud. “Dakota,” I called, diving for her as she crumbled to the floor.
A fist connected with my stomach, knocking the air from my lungs and forcing me to curl in on myself, fighting hard through the pain to stay on my feet.
“It’s the little one he wants the most,” a deep voice grumbled. “Get rid of the purple haired bitch, she’s too much trouble.”
“No,” Dakota screamed, and I looked back to see her kicking and throwing her fists. Fighting for her life as the asshole tried to grab any part of her that he could. “Meyah… run!”
There was so much going on.
Dakota was slapped across the face so hard I was almost sure it knocked her out.
I couldn’t force my body to move, I was too scared, paralyzed with pain.
“Let’s just stick them and carry them upstairs, ask what he wants to do with them,” asshole one mentioned. He was right behind me, I could feel him. I took a deep breath, trying to ignore how much it hurt and spun around, lifting my elbow at the same time.
A sharp pain shot through my body as the point of my elbow connected withAsshole One’sface, and he screamed like a little baby as he stumbled back, his hands going straight to his nose.
“You fuckingbitch,” he hollered, his voice muffled beneath his hands. “My fucking nose.”
I saw the blood as it trickled from his hands, down his face and his wrists. His once perfectly quaffed hair was now in a mess, pieces falling across his forehead as he stared at me with a mix of pain and anger.
