“There you are! I was getting worried for a moment.” I should probably feel guilty about worrying her, but I don’t. I feel exhilarated and like pre-kidnapping me—confident and ready to blow off some steam with one of my only real friends.
“Sorry, just giving myself a pep talk. Trying to convince myself not to tell all those people out there what I really think about them.”
Hope’s worry leaves, and she rolls her eyes. “I know. It’s a minute-by-minute struggle. But we should be okay down on the dance floor. The music is way too loud to talk. We can just lose ourselves for a little while.”
“I want to grab another one of those drinks while we’re down there. They were delicious,” I say as we get back to the employees only door and exit back onto the VIP floor. The music assaults my senses, and my heart starts pumping harder in anticipation. I feel fucking amazing. “Woo-hoo!” I throw my hands up and cheer as we make our way through the throng of dancing celebrities, past Dean, and onto the floor with the plebs.
We beeline to the bar, which is so filled with costumed patrons, the bartenders are running off their feet to keep up with one of the busiest nights of the year. We’ve always thrown amazing Halloween parties and are one of the hot LA nightspots.
I catch the eye of one, and when they finish up with the person they’re serving, they head toward us. I hear grumbles all around me, and she smiles and points. “They’re the bosses, guys. They get top priority. What can I get you ladies?”
“Hi, Katie, can we get two more Mad Doctors?” Hope asks before I can.
“Sure can. Have you both got a ride home tonight?” she asks as she mixes some green liquids and other things in a shaker.
“Hope here is on the prowl, but our security will bring a car when we’re ready to leave.”
She drops a couple of small pieces of dry ice into the bottom of two clean beakers.“Okay, well, shout out if you run into trouble, and we can arrange something,” she says as she pours the contents of the shaker over the dry ice. The drink immediately starts to smoke, and I can’t stop myself from grinning. It’s such a fucking cool effect. “Remember to let it stop smoking before you start drinking,” she warns us before waving goodbye and going back to the patrons.
Hope and I take our drinks and head to the dance floor. Stopping at a small round table, we put our drinks on it while we wait for them to stop smoking. I don’t like to take drinks onto the dance floor. There’s nothing worse than being bumped by someone and wearing whatever they had in their glass. I hate spending the rest of the night sticky.
The lights are bright, the smoke is thick, and the music is pumping. I feel myself start to sway along to the rhythm, my heart synching with the bass heavy track that the DJ is currently playing. People brush past me, but I feel none of the anxiety that has plagued me in public since our ordeal. I feel like I can rule the world, and I can’t wait to join the writhing masses and lose myself to the pulse of the music.
It’s too loud down here for us to have a decent conversation without shouting, so with silent agreement, we people watch. I scan the crowd, looking for a familiar face, but I don’t find anyone I know, which makes me happy. Of course, all of my so-called friends are too good to be down here dancing with the “poor and non-influential,” and I can’t tell you how much I love it. I love the fact that I can go out there and not be expected to perform any differently from any of the others.
My eye briefly catches on a sexy, dark-haired man wearing a Batman costume complete with mask. A small smirk lifts his lips as the two of us eye fuck each other across the room. I don’t know what it is about the man, it’s not like I can see his body or anything hidden beneath his armored costume, but his eyes are a shade of blue I’ve never seen before. They’re like the Caribbean Sea, bright and mesmerizing, framed with thick black lashes. He winks at me before turning and disappearing into the crowd. I try to see where he goes, but he quickly gets swallowed up. Shaking off my disappointment, I check on my drink.
It’s finally stopped smoking, so I drink it down, causing Hope to throw her head back with laughter. Shrugging, I gesture to the dance floor, and she nods, quickly doing the same.
Once she’s done, she places her beaker back on the table and grabs my hand, dragging me into the crowd. I brace myself for the onslaught, but none of the feelings that hit me are negative. It feels good to join the crowd, and when I start moving my body in time to the music, I feel in sync. We’re all like-minded people trying to have a good time, moving to the same rhythm, even if only for a short period of time. I throw my hands into the air, dancing to the primitive sexual beat, the crowd around me worked up into a frenzied, chaotic mass of moving limbs and twitching bodies.
My body tingles every time someone brushes across my exposed skin, and in this costume, there’s a lot of skin to brush against. A quiet moan, unheard by anyone but me, leaves my lips, and I feel my nipples pebble. Closing my eyes, I toss my head back and revel in all of the sensations, my mind uber-focused on everything that’s happening around me. The brush of a hand, the slide of a leg along mine, the hard push of a body against my back. Nobody makes unwanted advances when you’re just one with the crowd. It’s fucking magical.
When I open my eyes, I see that Hope has found someone to grind against. The guy has his thigh between her legs, and she’s riding it with a blissed-out look on her face, all inhibitions having gone down the drain with the Mad Doctors. Smiling, I turn back and move farther into the crowd. Hope is a smart girl who knows how to look after herself. She’ll use our car and our hotel suite if she decides to have a booty call, and she has her own set of security guards who are outside with mine, knowing we’re safe in the club with in-house bouncers looking after us.
The crowd gets thicker as I move farther into the wall-to-wall bodies and sensation overload. Everything feels amazing, and I can only imagine what an orgasm would feel like while riding this high. I’m tempted to find someone to grind on myself, but there’s also a very large part of me that has my heart set on a group of certain someones, and until I know whether or not something may come of that, I’m reluctant to go in search of a one-night stand. I guess the wait is my fault though. I did tell Jace I needed to get my head on straight and that I couldn’t start anything while the stalker situation and inheritance thing were up in the air. I’ve made no promises to anyone, which has to be why they’re holding back.
A hand suddenly snakes around my waist, jolting me out of my thoughts, and I’m yanked back into a hard body. Once I get over my initial shock, I relax back into him, and we rub against one another, losing track of time until panic starts to creep back into my body. From one moment to the next, my emotions race from focused euphoria to tangled nerves and guilt-induced anxiety. Shaking myself free from my dance partner, I push through the crowd, not looking back to see who it was, though the black, armor-covered arm had given me a fairly good clue.
I get a few dirty looks and curses as I carve a path to the bathroom, my heart racing as the panic dictates I find somewhere with not so many people. I get to the back of the club and find a line to the female bathrooms. Looking around as anxiety rides me hard, I spy a storage room and dart toward it. I just need five minutes of peace to get myself together.
That will do. It has to.
ChapterThree
Jacinta
Closing the door behind me, I breathe a sigh of relief as the music becomes muted. I finally have a little taste of the space I need.
Pacing back and forth across the small space, I shake out my hands as I try to calm my breathing and my racing heart. The comedown is brutal and quick, and I finally admit, thanks to the new onslaught of negative emotions, that I can’t go on like this. It’s time to admit that it’s affected me more than everyone thought. I need some extra sessions with my therapist. I haven’t been honest with her the last couple sessions, and I know she sees it, but she’s waiting for me to fess up.
I bite my lip, and my gaze drifts back to the door. The thought of going back out there almost forces my Mad Doctors to make a reappearance. I can’t do it on my own. I should leave. I should find Hope and tell her that I’m heading back to the hotel, but it’s not even midnight, and I really should be here when the stage show is on. My mind is filled with all theshoulds. How did I get to this point in my life where it feels like so few of my choices are actually my own? How have I lived for nearly thirty years, but so much of it still isn’tmine?
My hand drifts across the top of my breast, and I look down, seeing the rolled up dollar bill inside my cleavage. Maybe I’ll take another hit. Just for tonight, I’ll use the coke to get through. It’s not like I’ll need it again. I’ll make sure I avoid any big occasions like this until I can work through it with my therapist.
Happy with my decision, I pull out my supplies and look around for a clean surface to set up my line.
There aren’t many options, but there is a metal sink at the back of the small room that they must use to fill mop buckets. It has a flat metal section that must be for draining stuff. I hurry over to it and tap out some of the coke, a bigger pile this time. I don’t have the comb, so I just stab at it with the rolled up bill, hoping it will get rid of any lumps. Then, using the long side to form it into two lines, I snort the first one. Just as I’m bending over to snort up the other, the door opens and Batman slips in. Fuck! Oh well, I’m caught now, so I quickly snort the second line before wiping my nose with the back of my hand and glaring at the masked man.
