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“I don’t go around hitting people, just so you know. I wouldn’t do that.”
“Tris, seriously. No big deal. And I know that. You wouldn’t hurt anyone. Now hold my hand like you were going to.”
This time when I reached for him, I didn’t hit him. I carefully took his hand in mine, afraid of something else I might do, and threaded our fingers together. He pulled my arm in his direction as he lifted my hand to his lips to brush a kiss along my knuckles.
“There,” he said. “We’re fine. Okay?”
“Yeah.”
With my head resting on the seat, I studied Dash and the way he drove. His eyes scanned the road. He had to navigate us through the busy city streets. Rush hour was upon us, which meant a lot of beeping, cursing, and stop-and-go traffic. Dash kept his cool, not bothering to yell at anyone. He’d shoot me a quick smile every now and then. It wasn’t long before we pulled up to the club.
Untouchable sat on the westernmost edge of West Dremest. Solid black and three stories, it was a building that could easily blend in with the night. The name was on the front center of the building in cursive. It wasn’t flashy with neon signs or beer logos in the windows. It was understated. Men came here to relax and enjoy themselves, not have logos shoved in their faces or bright signs burning out their retinas.
Dash and I broke apart to get out of the vehicle. I didn’t wait for him to get the door for me. Curiosity had me exiting before he could make his way to my side. He scooped up my hand when he got near and pressed another kiss to it.
Guards stood outside the front door with bulging biceps and eyes as hard as steel. “ID,” one of them said.
Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out my wallet and handed over my driver’s license. Dash did the same. The guard typed on his phone. He looked at our licenses, us, the licenses again, then handed them back. He gave a nod, and the other guard opened the door, allowing us entrance.
Dash’s hand met the small of my back to escort me inside. The hallway we went down was dark, a sharp contrast to the sun still bright outside. The sun lasting into the night in the summer was one of my favorite parts of the season.
To our right was another man, this one not so scary, who gave us a soft smile and a polite “Hello” as we walked by. Dash and I didn’t have coats to check, but I could see the roombehind him had suit jackets hung up on some of the velvety-looking hangers. Another guard stood at the end of the hallway. He nodded to us and opened the door, his eyes going wide when he noticed Dash. This was the first time I was out in public with him. Our other date had us tucked into Vail’s inviting home.
The music could be heard before the door opened, but once we stepped into the massive room, it was a steady thump of bass coursing through my body as a man on stage moved in a way I never could. I scanned the room, taking it all in from the tables spaced apart to the bar to my right where members sat, and drinks were poured. More guards stood spaced throughout the room.
Leaning close to Dash, I asked, “Do you think there’s more security here than at Jordan Altair’s building?”
“Jordan has more but mine are better,” came from behind me.
I let out a squeak and spun, breaking my contact with Dash in the process.
A tall man stood there with a pale pink dress shirt on with the sleeves rolled up. He had a bit of scruff on his jaw, and dimples flashed when he grinned. “Sorry, I couldn’t resist.”
“Fucker,” Dash grumbled. “I almost decked you.”
“It would have been fun to watch you try. You haven’t seen my brother fight but know that I learned from the best.”
“And here I thought you weren’t cocky, Dex.” Dexen was certainly attractive. He could have been the dancer on stage for as good as he looked.
“Not cocky, Dash. Confident.” He clapped Dash on the shoulder. “Tristan, it’s nice to meet you.” He offered his hand which I readily shook.
“It’s nice to meet you too.”
“Come on. I have a table reserved for you. You’ll have a couple dinner partners tonight.”
Dash took my hand as we followed Dexen through the tables until we got to one near the stage. Two men saw us and stood, grins spreading on their faces.
“Greer, JJ, you already know Dash. This is Tristan, Dash’s...”
“Boyfriend,” Dash replied. “At least, I think. Maybe?” He turned to me.
“We’re dating.”
“That’s great,” the bigger of the two said. He was tall and his dress shirt pulled taut over his arms. Why was everyone so big? I felt small and like I should spend more time in a gym. “Greer Lynx. It’s nice to meet you.” We shook.
“You too.”
The other man came over. The one whose name I recognized but knew I couldn’t breathe a word of what we knew about Romeo. That was his story to tell if he ever wanted to. Dexen didn’t even know. He still thought Romeo lived with his mom. It was another way to keep people from finding out about his connection to Jordan and, ultimately, to Malik.
