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“Sure is. Anyone of importance in this town is right under this roof, ready to act out their wildest fantasies.”
"Fucking hell," I say, scrubbing my hand down my face.
"You might want to plaster a smile on your face or find something to take your mind off whatever it’s filled with right now, because you're here to enjoy yourself."
"And if I don't want to?" I ask, because this… it isn’t me, and I want no part in it.
"Tough. Consider this… a rite of passage."
"As if we've not already been through enough.”
“Holy shit,” Alex murmurs, his attention on the other side of the room. “Is that District Attorney Hal Bailey?”
“Yeah, Fawn’s father.” Channing grimaces at the sight of him with his hand up one of the server’s skirts as she flirts with the table of men. "Being an Electi is just a gift that keeps on giving," he deadpans.
"Here." Channing hands us both a stack of chips. "You want more, you need to reach into your pockets. Where are you starting your night, boys?" He winks before slipping into the room and heading for the poker table.
"We're here now," Alex says, “may as well embrace it." He shrugs and takes off, leaving me little choice but to follow unless I want to stand here looking like an outsider for the rest of the night.
Alex sets himself up on the roulette table and places a few of his chips down, which, predictably, he swiftly loses.
"Here," I say, handing mine over.
"Don't you want to play?" he asks, his brows knitting together.
"It's fine. Go on."
"Cheers. My luck has to change sooner or later, right?"
I smile at him, wondering if we're destined for perpetual bad luck now we're a part of all this.
"Here," Ashton says, suddenly appearing between us. "Something to take the edge off."
"Thanks, man," Alex says, taking the small square of paper from his hands without a second thought and popping it onto his tongue.
I stare at him in disbelief. After what they did to us down in that vault, how can he take that quite so easily without even questioning what it is?
"Don't be a pussy, Easton. It's not DOM." Ashton smirks.
"I don't give a fuck. I'm not taking anything from you."
"Fine. But I can promise you that you'll enjoy tonight with or without it."
I don't want to enjoy the fucking night, but I keep that thought to myself.
Exactly as Channing warned, as the night goes on and the drink and drugs flow freely, things only begin to get wilder.
The dancers shed their already nonexistent outfits and the men seem to forget that they've got wives and families at home waiting for them. The whole place transforms into one big orgy, of which Cade, Ashton and Brandon are right in the middle of, having the time of their lives.
I, however, just want to leave as soon as possible.
Ignoring the chaos behind me, I head to the bathroom, hoping for a little reprieve. The shots of whiskey I've had are doing little to numb anything right now, and I'm desperate to have something stronger, but I also know that I need to keep a clear head.
If I let my guard down, even for a second, then that asshole is going to exploit it. I've seen him watch me, watching and waiting for me to do something that I'm sure he'd take great pleasure in reporting straight back to Mia, but it's not going to happen.
She's mine. And as far as I'm concerned, she’s the only girl in the world. I don't care about the women out there flaunting what they've got for all to see. I am not interested in sharing them with any of those assholes.
My fists curl as I push through the men's bathroom door, but unlike I'm expecting, it doesn't close behind me. Glancing over my shoulder, I find a man has followed me inside. There's something familiar about him, but it's hard to pinpoint with the whiskey fogging my brain.
