Just another performance in the greatest lie I’ve ever told.
The lie I’m telling myself that I can walk away from this unscathed.
Chapter Fourteen
ELIZABETH
New Year’s Eve
After the attack on the club, I have learned that even though I’m nervous, the Alliance will be back, and the club doesn’t waste time on being anxious. They have things they need to get done. And the brothers weren’t going to cancel the toy run, whether the Alliance is an issue or not. Sin wasn’t going to let those assholes stop the kids from getting the gifts they needed.
I actually found it admirable that Sin put club business aside for the sake of the kids—and they all got their gifts this morning. The footage was amazing to watch. Sin also said that no matter what shit was headed their way, the club girls had gone to a hell of a lot of trouble planning tonight’s New Year’s Eve party, so the Alliance could be dealt with in the new year, which is technically only a few hours away at this point. But tonight, the club wants to party and bring in the new year in style—the theme is ‘Chrome and Midnight.’
As I stand in the middle of my bedroom, I let out a long breath. After the events of today, I need to let off some steam, so a party at the clubhouse actually sounds like a damn good idea.
I need to de-stress!
Spinning, I glance at the photograph of my family on my dresser. My mother, father, my brother, Marcus and I, before everything changed. Before I went to Columbia University to study journalism, and left Marcus here to fall in with the wrong crowd.
Sadness washes over me that I abandoned him, even though I knew he was struggling.
I left to follow my dream, and he died because of it.
If I had never left home to study journalism, I would have been here to watch over Marcus. To stop him from joining the club. Instead, I was away, enjoying my life. And when he died, when I heard the club had a hand in his death, I dropped out of Columbia University and went straight into the Police Academy, so I could help bring down the assholes who took my brother from me.
Now I’m involved with the very club that took his life, and I can’t find anything or any reason to help me prove it was them. It’s so frustrating, especially when I went into this full of enthusiasm to bring Defiance and Sin down, but now, after being with these people and learning about them—after getting close to them, to Sin—it feels like maybe I have the wrong side of it.
Maybe.
I don’t know.
My mind is all over the place.
All I know is I need to dig deeper.
I am missing something.
Clearly, with that locked file in Ghost’s den, there’s more to it.
And this thing with Sin, whatever it is, is clouding my judgment. So perhaps I need to get him out of my system so I can get on with my job.
Exhaling, I walk over to the photograph and run my finger across the image of my brother. “Iwillfind out what happened to you, Marcus. I swear.”
Nervous tension rolls through my stomach as I step back from my dresser and run my hands over the frills of my long black dress. The silver sequins in the fabric give it that shimmer for the chrome feel of the evening. My almost see-through black lace bodice is tight against my torso as delicate black lace straps fall along my biceps. The silver sequins glistening along the lace make the entire dress feel like a starry night. As I stare at myselfin the floor-length mirror, I even think I look beautiful, and I lean over to reach for my chrome half-mask. The split in my dress parts, showing my leg almost all the way to my panties, and I can’t help but smirk, knowing I chose this dress specifically for Sin.
Shaking my head with a smirk, I take my mask, a simple filigree pattern with diamantés. It covers one eye, then stretches over the top of my other. A kind of half-eye mask, if you will. My version of ‘I’m only showing the club half of who I truly am,’ only they don’t know that.
Taking a bobby pin, I fasten one side of my mask to my hair to keep it in place, then repeat the process with the other side. Once my mask is firmly attached, I take one last look at myself and smile. “Here we go, Elizabeth. Time to bring in the New Year with a bang!”
Reaching for my trusty bag that has my recorder and notepad located inside, I take off to my car to head for the clubhouse. I have a feeling that tonight, with the liquor flowing and everyone in a good mood, I can truly start to press for more information. I just have to remember not to push too hard. Otherwise, they might figure out what I amreallyup to, and that won’t be good for anyone.
Making my way to the car, I hop in, my dress taking up more room than I had anticipated. It’s hard to drive when there’s material clogging up the entire front seat and half the view of the windshield.
With my anxiety high, I pull out of my driveway, turning on Marcus’ playlist as I drive. A slow frown crosses my face as “Smoke and Mirrors” by Imagine Dragons plays through my car speakers. A song that Marcus used to have on repeat for hours. My eyes glisten instantly, the memories of him flooding in, but I quickly blink back the tears. I donotneed them ruining my makeup for tonight’s party.
The lyrics in the song talk about a sense of feeling small in the grand scope of existence while searching for your purpose. Hoping for a sign or something to pull you out of your struggles, and that you have been pursuing goals that may not align with your true self, whether your dreams and achievements are real or just a fragile illusion that could crumble at any moment. The song is deep, and, at the time, when Marcus was listening to it over and over again, it used to annoy me.
But now, I see it was a cry for help.
