She glares, eyes flashing. “Okay, then let’s sort itnow.”
I laugh, leaning down to kiss her lightly on the forehead. “Not now. We’ve gotta go.”
She growls in frustration and slams the bathroom door shut, the sound echoing off the walls. I let out a breath, dragging a hand through my hair. Christ, she’s exhausting and addictive.
Relief slips through me when she reappears a few minutes later, dressed, her hair pulled back, and some of the anger gone from her face. She doesn’t look happy, but at least she looks like she’s coming with me.
“Better,” I mutter, tugging my boots on properly and grabbing my keys. “Now, let’s move before Axel starts breathing down my neck.”
She rolls her eyes but follows, her arms crossed tight, every step heavy with defiance.
The neon glow of Chaos & Angels burns against the late morning haze as I pull the bike into the carpark. The bass from inside rattles the pavement, even with the doors shut. Remi slips off the bike behind me, tugging her jacket tight around her like armour. She doesn’t say a word, but I can feel her eyes on me, heavy and questioning.
“Let’s go,” I tell her, pocketing the keys and holding out a hand, which she doesn’t take. I sigh, dropping it back to my side before leading the way.
Inside, it reeks of stale smoke, spilled liquor, and perfume thick enough to choke on. Sequins flash under the low lights as girls in stilettos flit between tables, their laughter sharp, their eyes locked on the wallets that feed them. It’s not packed, but for a Friday lunch, it’s lively enough.
I ignore the noise and head straight for the back office. The manager looks up the second I step in, already on his feet. He shakes my hand quickly before reaching into the drawer and dropping a bag on the desk with a heavy thud.
“Here’s your cut.”
“All there?” I ask with a grin.
He chuckles, nodding. “Every penny.”
Remi lingers in the doorway, arms wrapped around herself, eyes wary. I give her a small smile, but she doesn’t return it. Instead, she lets me take her hand as we head back out into the club.
I spot Sasha, her eyes locked on me as she pushes off the bar like she’s been waiting, strutting over with a glossy smile that only makes the bruise on her lip more obvious.
“You never said you were coming,” she purrs, her fingertip tracing down my chest. I feel Remi stiffen at my side, her handtwitching to pull free. I hold tighter. “I was just telling the girls about that time we—” I shove her hand away, not breaking stride. My focus is on the door, not her games. I don’t have the patience today.
“Shadow!” The shout cracks across the club. One of the prospects is waving me over, panic carved into his face.
I groan, already moving, but not before tightening my grip on Remi’s hand and fixing her with a look. “Stay here. Don’t move.”
Her eyes flash, defiant, but I’m already dropping the bag on the cloakroom counter as I pass.
“Watch that,” I bark at the kid behind it, my attention locked on the prospect. Then I release her hand and stride towards the noise, every muscle wired for whatever shitstorm’s about to hit.
Remi
The second Shadow disappears into the crowd, I’m left standing by the cloakroom, the heavy bag of cash slumped on the counter like it’s mocking me.
The guy behind the desk is barely older than me, with a mop of hair that looks like it hasn’t seen a brush in weeks. He grins like he’s just hit the jackpot. “So, you’re with Shadow, huh? Didn’t think he was the girlfriend type.”
I don’t even look at him. My arms fold tight across my chest, my eyes locked on where Shadow vanished. The thrum of bass rattles through the floor, the shouts from the far side of the club tugging at my nerves. I’m not in the mood for small talk.
“Not really chatty, are you?” he tries again, leaning on the counter. “Shame. I could keep you entertained while you wait.”
I shoot him a glare, about to tell him where to shove it, when my eyes catch the bag again.
The weight of it. The way the zip gapes slightly, enough to show a glint of folded notes inside.
My chest tightens.Twenty grand.The number pounds in my head like a drumbeat. Money I’ll never have. Money that man will keep hounding me for until it destroys everything.
I force my lips into something resembling a smile and turn back to him. “Maybe I’m just picky about who I talk to.” My voice is lighter now, teasing.
He perks up instantly, leaning closer. “Guess I got lucky, then.”
