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CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

*Lace*

As soon as we are completely enclosed in the makeshift dressing area, I begin changing right away. Copper eyes locked on me, Bae leans back in a metal fold up chair, legs spread and hand resting on his knee, fingers open.

At first I take my time, essentially putting on a muted strip show for him. Been a while since he has gotten one, other than when he sneaked a peek while Zane and I were messing around on his initiation night.

I would say removing my platforms, skin-tight leather corset, and the booty shorts Chaz made me put on takes a while, but that would be a lie; it takes me roughly two minutes to get things off while on stage, so needless to say, no matter how complicated the outfit, I am very well practiced at shedding them.

Almost completely naked from collarbone to toes — still wearing only the tanga thong I paired with the corset and lace skirt combo — I pick up the brown suit top, remove the hanger, and hold it up to assess the strange design. The back is surprisingly pretty full coverage, but there is a ring at the center between the bust material and two long, thick ties dangling from each breast panel that I can only assume are meant to be wrapped.

I unweave the ties from the ring and open it up, like one might do with a jacket or button up shirt, then slide each of my arms through the holes before threading the long ties back through and pulling them around to my sides. Getting the right tautness while attempting to tie it at the center of my back is a struggle, but Bae is quick to jump on the opportunity to get close to me despite how standoffish I have been toward him today.

He launches out of his chair, his hungry eyes still just as hungry as they were a moment ago, if not even more so. His fair hands clash against my warm, sun-kissed shoulders as he turns me around and moves my hair aside, draping it over my shoulder.

Instead of tightening my poor attempt at the tie at the center of my back, though, he traces a soft line down my spine, starting between my shoulder blades. “You wanted to talk?” he murmurs, dragging his nose along my exposed neck. “Right now might be your only chance.”

A chill chases his touch, causing goosebumps to rise all over my skin. Trying hard to get my thoughts off his fingers and warm breath and locked on what is more important, I nod.

“Okay, but before we do that, you have to tell me what other pills you have taken in the last twenty-four hours,” Bae demands.

The parts of me that started to jellify, congeal instead. Of course there is a cost. With them, there is always a cost. I roll my eyes and spin around to face him. “Stop pretending like you care.”

His hands stay on my shoulders, his body remaining loose and casual. Except for the mound at his zipper. “Pretending?” His light eyebrows rise and matching eyes drift over my face. “No. You read me wrong this time, Lace. I care. A lot. We all do. Brodi and Chaz, they want to know what you have taken, too. Not just me.”

“So Brodi put you up to this,” I state matter of factly.

“The club medic. Yeah, of course he did. Is it really so hard to just tell us what you are on?”

No.

Yes.

Because verbalizing it means I have to own up to my actions. Of course Bae wouldn’t completely understand — he hates drugs. Won’t touch the stuff, much less uncontrollably take too much of it.

I must have shaken my head then nodded, my inward conflict displaying outwardly, because Bae cups my face and dips his eyes down to catch mine. “We only want to know. Nothing more. We aren’t slapping you on the wrist. Not yet.”

“Xannies and addies,” I mumble, trying to get this part over as quickly as possible. I know all too well how these men work; Bae is manipulating me into feeling like I have a choice, but that is never truly the case. Just like with these bathing suits.

“How many?”

“Several.”

“How do you feel?”

“I think they are countering each other, unfortunately. No crazy reactions that I can tell other than a bit of mental sluggishness. Only a bit, though. I have combined more than this before.”

“Want to tell me why you are regressing?” Bae prods in his cool, intellectual tone that always makes me want to tell him everything.

“Look at my life. I would say it’s pretty damn obvious why. I know what happened last night, Bae. I know about the assignment getting swapped. I know just about everything. Almost. I was there. On location.”

His eyes widen minutely before softening again. “It breaks my heart when you say my name in that detached way. The way everyone says it. I am not your enemy, Lace.”

“Right now, you all are,” I whisper. My gaze floats away from his. The sympathy carving in his features is too much, especially when I have no real way of knowing if it is genuine.

”You think it was me who made the swap.” Bae presses a finger against my jaw to redirect my focus toward him again. “Look, I get it. I want to know who did it just as much as you do. You are smart for suspecting me first; things are not looking good for me.”

Bae has somehow managed to easily turn my interrogation into his own, and it infuriates me.

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