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“Doesn’t matter,” I interrupted. “You’re not staying here anymore. No more rent, no more bills. You’re going somewhere for help,realhelp. You already had a chance to make things better, and you blew it. Now, a decision has been made for you.” I adjusted the cufflink near my wrist, my curt tone ending any debate. “You’ll be staying at Belmont Hills. You’re their problem now, and maybe someday, if you get the help you need, you can be part of Gemma’s life again. You can’t—I can’t—interfere with her decisions anymore. Now move. I won’t ask again.”
Claire panicked at the command, shaking her head, “I won’t go… everything I have is here. This is my home.”
“You can either move yourself, or I can drag you downstairs to the car that’s waiting. Either way, it’s happening, and it’s happening now.” I gestured to the door as Claire slowly stood up, exchanging a stare that dared me to fight back. “Don’t,” I warned. “You said it yourself, Claire… my love is nuclear, and I’m done lying dormant. Fuck your promise. Fuck your punishment. I’m telling Gemma the truth. I love her. No conditions. No questions. And if I lose it all… if I lose her, then at least she knows the truth, at least in the end… it’s her who got to decide.”
Chapter16
Gemma
Vomit would look particularly awful on my new dress, but puking was almost inevitable with my nerves. Standing alone, jostled in a small, private elevator, I tried to recount the precise instructions Alejandro gave me.
Once you exit the elevator, there’ll be someone waiting for you. Stay close to the walls, stay far away from the crowd. I’ll find you near the private booth in the back. And trust me, Gemma, you’ll be safe. I’ll always be watching out for you.
His guide on how to get around felt more like an exit strategy, and maybe it was, considering I didn’t belong here, fifty stories in the sky at a notorious nightclub called Venom.
Nervously, my heels planted themselves into a permanent position, collecting all the reverberated sounds of ominous electronic music above. It thudded along the steel walls, climbing into a peek that shook the contents of my empty stomach as the elevator came to a sudden stop.
Everything was magnified.
Hot.
Loud.
Booming.
The atmosphere of another world seeped through the slow opening elevator door, overwhelming me with the eruption of light and sound. I gasped as a few men fell in, nearly knocking me over.
“It’s not a wall, dummies, it’s a door!” A graveled shout made its way into my ears, delivered from a person who urgently grabbed at my hand. “Watch your step, babe!” she instructed, guiding me over the tumbled drunks and scattered loose pills.
“Ivanna?” I questioned, recognizing the raspy bark and choppy, black bangs of Alejandro’s assistant. She pulled me to the side of her long, latex-wrapped legs.
“Your personal bodyguard for the night.” She leaned close to my face to shout over the music. “The elevator was a bad idea. It’s in the middle of the party.”
“Where’s Alejandro?”
“Not here yet! Still taking photos outside. I gotta get you away from here though.”
“Why, what’s happening?” I followed Ivanna’s lead as we approached a thick brush of molten bodies. I swiped at something wet that fell above my bright, red lips; hopefully it was just a drink.
“Once Alejandro arrives it’s going to get hectic. Everyone is already fucked up.”
“Didn’t everyone just get here?”
“The party’s been on for hours. You know how Alejandro is. He never shows up on time, and for good reason.” She elbowed us further into the crowd, disobeying Alejandro’s first request.
“I’m supposed to stay near the walls.”
“That’ll take too long, and we don’t have much time. Trust me on this.”
I tried shouting, but it was pointless as we trudged through a wall of people. I could practically taste their sweat, their obnoxious cheers so claustrophobic and sweltering, that it felt more like the gates of hell than an actual celebration.
“It’s so loud!” I said, my body squished into hers. Music filled my chest, regurgitating itself up into the pulse of my eyes.
Ivanna looked up, her face doused in the swirling light of the industrial facade. “Keep your jaw clenched,” she suggested. “It’ll stop your teeth from rattling once the bass drops.” She guarded herself from the sudden spray confetti. A pluming explosion of sound erupted into the crowd, covering us in an atmosphere of haze as the music crashed into my ears.
“How could this ever be considered a fun Saturday night?” I screeched, watching as a woman fell down, her thigh pierced from the stiletto heel of another person. I cringed, tiptoeing around her body.
“After a few drinks, it’s ok.”
