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4
Shaye
Irun my fingers through the long, dark waves that cascade over my bare shoulders. My eyes are shadowed and thickly lined, and my puckered, dark red lips pop against my skin. I take a deep breath and smooth down the front of my dress. Okay, dress is an understatement. It looks more like a long bathing suit that definitely won’t cover my ass if I bend over. Actually, I’m not sure it covers it when I’m standing, either.
I stare at my reflection. I look ready to take a long stroll down Hollywood Boulevard, but tonight isn’t about putting on a show for the masses. It’s about grabbing the attention of one person who is slipping through my fingers more and more with each passing day.
He won’t come to me, so tonight, I’m going to him.
I secure the wig with a few more bobby pins and slip my feet into shoes that should be designated as illegal weapons since I could literally slice through someone’s chest with the spiky heels.
I just want Nico back, the way he was before he pulled that trigger, the way he was when we were just sneaking around. The way he was when we were happy.
It didn’t last for too long, but it was perfect.
I need that perfection back, and it all starts tonight. I have to grab control of this spiraling situation before it’s too late. I have to be the strong one right now…for both of our sakes.
I grab my clutch bag and take a few tentative steps into the hallway of my parents’ house. Luckily, Max is already at the club, and Mom and Dad are out. Nobody will be around to witness my slutty transformation, and that’s a damn good thing since this dress really doesn’t leave much to the imagination. It could, in fact, get me thrown in jail.
I dip my head low as I push open the front door and pull it closed behind me. I don’t need anyone seeing me loitering here. I look like a freaking prostitute, albeit a high-priced one.
My heart thumps in my chest as I take quick, tiny steps toward my car. Short, sharp pants escape my lips. The thought of taking a deep breath would be laughable if I could squeeze one out. I’m wrapped so tight in this pleather-spandex fabric mix, I’m surprised my eyeballs haven’t popped out of my head from the pressure.
Somehow, I slide into the driver’s seat of my Infinity RS50. I pull off one heel, slip on a flip flop, and press the button to start the ignition since I can’t very well drive in stilts. I know what I’m doing. I know where I’m going. I just don’t have any fucking clue what to expect when I get there.
I’ve been warned more times than I can count to stay far away from Culaccino, Nico’s very exclusive, very mysterious club in downtown Manhattan, and I’ve listened. For the most part, anyway. Curiosity had grabbed hold on occasion, and yeah, there were times I’d take a drive into the meat-packing district while I was still mooning over Nico—the manwhore version of my boyfriend from long ago.
Nico, my parents, Max…they’d all skin me alive if they knew where I was headed, and in this glorified bathing suit, of all things.
I don’t care. I’m desperate. Desperate for Nico and for us to go back to the way things were before that night.
That’s why I’m in disguise. Nobody will know I’m there until I want them to.
It’s a perfect plan meant to rekindle what Nico and I have been missing for the past four months. It’s not just the sex…it’s everything else. He can fuck me six ways from Sunday, and it’s always incredible. Physically.
But our connection has been broken for too long, and tonight, I’m going to repair it.
I drive past the club entrance. The street is dark and narrow, and there are only a few dimly lit awnings. It’s understated, at least from the outside.
I can only guess what goes on inside, of course, because nobody tells me anything. Everyone wants to protect Shaye, but they don’t realize that Shaye is a big girl with an even bigger plan.
I pull around a corner and find an empty spot. It’s tight as hell, but I manage to squeeze my car into it with some room in the front and back. Miraculous. I normally suck at parallel parking, so the stars must be aligned for me. I’ll take it as a positive sign.
My spikes click on the pavement as I approach the club. I nibble at my nail and scour the small groups of people gathering in front of the roped-off area. There is no sign of paparazzi lurking in the shadows, desperate to snap an incriminating photo. Judging by the line of high-end cars parked in the street, it looks like the club’s regular millionaire clientele, not the Hollywood elite crowd. I slip into a group of women dressed like me. Jesus, there’s a lot of coochie on display tonight. My pulse throbs as I lower my head and follow them in once the door attendant waves us inside. A blonde in front of me flips her hair over her shoulder, strands landing in my thick lip gloss. I sputter as quietly as I can and manage to detach it from my lips before she can turn around.
Straight through the entranceway is a hallway that leads to what looks and sounds like a dance club. But there’s another roped-off area to the left leading in a different direction. Downstairs. Into the underbelly. My gut tells me that’s where I want to be. I twist around in the darkened entryway, squinting at the women in front of me. They all move forward toward a staircase lit only along the floor. Beefy security-type guys don’t let everyone through, though. They pull aside only a select few women and men, me included. Everyone else is waved to the main club area. Everything is black. I can’t see six inches in front of me. I feel bodies moving against me, urging me forward. Low voices rumble through me and large hands slide over my hips and ass. My throat tightens. Shit, what the hell did I just walk into? What kind of club is this, anyway?
“Stay close to the side.” A low voice whispers against my hair, and a single chill slides down my spine. “Otherwise you’ll get trampled by the freaks.”
I nod, but don’t dare to utter a reply. I have no idea who is behind me or what he wants. No, scratch that. I know exactly what he wants, but there’s no fucking way I’m going to give him any sign of encouragement. I pull my skirt down as far as it will go, which is really not saying much.
Oh, God, what the hell am I doing here?
“You’ve never been here before, have you?” The voice murmurs against my ear again as we move closer to the stairs, and panic grips me. I reach out for the hand rail and take one tentative step into the dungeon of this…this…place.
I nod, still refusing to respond, still facing forward, moving even closer to the blonde woman with all the hair. I’d gladly eat every strand if it meant I can get away from this jerkoff behind me. I don’t know if they were his hands all over my ass or someone else’s, but I want to stay far, far away from wandering fingers.
“Don’t be nervous. Once we get downstairs, you’ll see how much fun it can be.” Fingertips trail my arm and the hairs immediately stand on end. I yank it away as if I’ve been stung by an angry wasp. A gravelly laugh vibrates against my neck, and I clutch the railing. Christ, could we move any slower? I just want to separate myself from this asshole and find Nico.
