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And nothing from Arielle either, but I’m not as surprised about that. She must be terrified to show her face after the way she betrayed me. I feel like I won’t ever be able to be part of my own family again.
Technically, I never was in the first place, but I like to pretend. It makes me feel like a stable person instead of some sad little orphan blowing around in the wind.
Time crawls, my headache subsides, and I begin to have serious thoughts about going back to Agave. Perhaps it’s just a morbid curiosity about what the place would be like without all the drama, but I feel compelled to be there tonight. I haven’t heard from Elliot all day, and after Regan told me she didn’t see him leave, I have to wonder what Akim did with him.
As eight o’clock rolls around, I dig through my closet to find something just as sexy as I’d been wearing last night.
“Not to look nice for Akim,” I tell myself softly. “I just don’t want to stand out. One or two questions for Akim if he’s even there, and then I’m out.”
As I tear through my wardrobe, I realize that I have nothing nice to wear. I can’t go in jeans and a t-shirt, though. They wouldn’t even let me through the front door.
The dress Regan loaned me is a sweaty, wrinkled mess, and I’m pretty sure there’s blood on it. I can’t wear that either.
Maybe I shouldn’t go. I could text Elliot and wait it out.
My legs move while my mind is still in limbo, and I find myself in Regan’s room, ruffling through her belongings in search of something that will fit me. She’s about the same size, perhaps a little more shapely, but almost everything she wears is so small and tight that it feels undersized.
She’d tell me that that’s the point, and for the sake of tonight’s mission, I’m going to have to agree with her.
I grab a blue cocktail dress that I remember her wearing to her cousin’s wedding last summer. It’s not the most weather-appropriate option, but if she knew what I was taking it for, she would approve wholeheartedly. She’s always trying to get me to dress like her.
I change quickly, not wanting to get caught should Regan make a sudden return and force me to explain what on earth I’m doing. She doesn’t know about my little mistake with Akim, and I’d prefer to keep it that way.
This is about Elliot now, anyway. I settle on that narrative as I do my hair and makeup in the bathroom. I need to know what happened to Elliot so that I can piece the rest of last night’s story together.
I call it closure, but it feels suspiciously like a new opening as I blend my eyeshadow, curl my hair instead of straightening it, and put on the only pair of diamond earrings that I own.
Again, I don’t look like myself, but that’s for the best. I need all the confidence I can get if I’m really to walk up to Akim again and ask him what he did with Elliot.
Even with the doubts that float around in the back of my head, I rush out of the apartment and drive down to Agave to see what sort of trouble I can get into.
When I pull up to the club, it dawns on me that Akim might not even be there. He didn’t earn all his money from this club alone, so he could be anywhere. He could own a dozen different clubs, finding a new clueless bitch every night to bend over his desk and spank.
I’d feel like such an idiot walking in alone and then immediately walking out, but I don’t give myself time to second guess myself. I breeze past the bouncer outside, who clearly hasn’t been told to watch out for me. Akim must think I’m not coming back.
Well, he’s about to be proven wrong.
I spot him fairly easily due to how large and imposing he is. He’s sitting at the bar, dressed similarly to last night – black pants and a black t-shirt. It’s simple, but somehow he makes such an understated outfit look classic and composed.
I approach him slowly, easing my way over to him in order to not appear over-eager. Before he sees me, one of his associates from last night spots me. “Hey, you can’t be here!” he shouts, and he begins walking toward me like he intends to knock me over.
Akim turns quickly, catching my gaze and raising his hand to the bouncer.
The bulky beast stops dead in his tracks. “Wasn’t she the girl who punched that guy last night?” he growls, shooting me a furious look. He looks like he could lift me by one arm and toss me through the drywall.
Akim smiles thinly. “Yeah, that’s her. She’s the only one who didn’t get banned from the club. Let her through.”
“Why? She’s the one who was causing problems,” the bouncer asks, but Akim motions for him to leave me alone. He rolls his eyes and saunters off.
“Back so soon?” Akim asks, smiling at me slightly and patting the chair beside him.
I hurry to the seat, sliding in and clasping my hands together on the bar. Even though Akim isn’t touching me, my skin prickles just from being near him. I shift myself away from him a little just to keep myself from getting distracted.
“I’m looking for another cheater to punch in the face. That’s how I relieve stress now,” I say, laughing a bit. “Can I get a drink?”
Akim snaps his fingers, and two martinis slide toward us. At this point, he’s just showing off.
“We don’t need any more drama, my darling. It’s a dance floor, not a mosh pit,” he says as he hands me one of the drinks, and I’m not sure if he’s trying to joke with me or if he’s giving me a soft warning.
