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Being the world to Izaac Banks is nothing but a stupid, unrealistic dream—one I need to hurry up and burn, preferably without leaving any scars.
Ten minutes later, I stand in my cramped bathroom, my clean-shaven body wrapped in a towel as I furiously try to dry my hair, but that’s the problem with thick hair, it takes a whole damn village to tame.
“Check it out,” Becs says, standing in the open doorway, juggling my black leather mini-skirt and thigh-high boots with a sequin triangle top looped over her finger.
I gape at the outfit.
It’s a great outfit. But that sequin top is barely enough to cover my tits. Did I mention it’s backless? It has two tiny shoestring straps that hold it together in the back—one hooked around the neck and the other around the back of the ribs. As for titty support . . . none!
Becs bought it for me as a joke last year, and now I guess the joke is on me.
I cringe as I take in her offering, but the look in her eyes suggests I better not fight her on this. I grab the skirt and sparkly top before noticing the tiny black thong in her other hand. Great. Guess we’re going all out tonight. Time to retire the granny panties.
Trudging into my living room, I get dressed there since the bathroom is too small for two people. My parents wanted to buy me something bigger, something grand that would be transferred into my name after graduation as a congratulatory gift, but I refused. The college experience I wanted didn’t involve living in some posh house my parents paid for, even if it meant I had to bruise their egos. That didn’t keep them from splurging on an incredible car for my twenty-first birthday—a beautiful white Corvette. I almost died when I realized what they’d gotten me. It’s been my dream car for as long as I can remember, but I never thought they would get it for me. Honestly, I’d always hoped that I’d be able to purchase it for myself one day. Either way, I appreciate their generosity. They’ve always been so good to me and my brother.
As I pull my outfit into place, Becs dives through my bathroom drawers to find my blow dryer and a brush. As she works on taming my hair, I get started on my makeup, and with each passing second, my excitement levels up. I’m actually doing this!
Within thirty minutes, I’m ready for the night of my life.
Becs pulled my hair up into a high pony, and in this outfit, I was bold enough to go hard on the eyeliner. My mascara is on point, and with my boots adding an extra few inches, I feel invincible.
After grabbing my purse and locking up, we fly out of the building to meet our Uber driver downstairs, and before I know it, we’re on our way in the back of a black sedan.
We shoot the shit for the whole drive, and when the Uber driver pulls to a stop in a deserted street, my back stiffens. “Come on,” Becs says, grabbing my hand and scooching out of the car.
My brows furrow, but I go with her, trusting she knows where we’re going, but honestly, I’m having doubts. Just because I don’t have a lot of experience with clubs doesn’t mean I don’t know what to look for, and this isn’t it. The street should be littered with people, and even if I can’t see the main entrance, I should still be able to hear the distant sound of music and feel its rumble through the ground . . . but there’s nothing.
“Are you sure we’re in the right place?” I ask, getting to my feet beside her and closing the car door. The Uber driver takes off immediately, and my stomach sinks. Even that guy knows we’re not in the right place, but now that we’re out of his car, we’re no longer his problem.
“Just trust me.” Becs beams, looping her arm through mine and dragging me a little down the street.
My gaze swings from left to right. The street is filled with stores and cafés, and I’m sure during the daylight hours, it would be swarming with people, but now that the moon is overhead, it’s a ghost town.
“I’d hate to break it to you,” I say with a slight grunt, my cheery excitement quickly dwindling to a dull fear that we could get killed out here. “But there’s nothing out here. Are you sure you got the right address?”
“Would you stop freaking out and let me lead you into the biggest corruption of your life?” she says, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she turns and drags me toward a dark alley. My heart races the closer we get to the narrow opening between buildings. “We’re almost there.”
I groan and allow her to keep dragging me along. “If I end up in a body bag, I’m coming back and haunting your ass for the rest of your damn life.”
“Oooh, I like it,” she teases. “Sounds kinky.”
I roll my eyes when Becs comes to a stop in the middle of the dark alley, her gaze locked on a single black door, perfectly framed into the brickwork of the building. It’s big and imposing—the kind of door two college girls shouldn’t be knocking on.
One word lingers above the door, giving people the only clue about what lies within—VIXEN.
The letters are carved out of metal in a simple, elegant font, and they stand out from the brickwork, illuminated from behind. The X is much bigger than the other letters, and I find myself gazing at it a moment longer than necessary. It’s just a single letter, but for some reason, up on that brick wall, it holds so much power—as if it’s a final warning to innocent passersby that what lingers behind this door is not for the faint of heart.
Becs reaches for the handle before glancing back at me. “You ready?”
I shake my head. “Not even a little bit.”
She grins wider. “Perfect.”
And with that, she pushes the door open, and I prepare for whatever secrets lie within.
2
ASPEN
