Kyle comes around and hands me a glass, his warm hand brushing my skin. He clinks his drink to mine with a devilish smile that I know he thinks is charming. It’s the same one he used to give me as kids. One that fooled me before. But I won’t be letting that happen again.
“Are we celebrating something?” My voice sounds pinched, but at least I’m still managing to stand upright with all the stress coursing through my body.
“My brother’s demise, of course. He’s been after me for years, and finally, we have him right where we want him.” He takes a sip, but I stand there, stock still, heart racing up into my throat. “Now, now. It’s bad manners not to drink something that’s offered to you.”
“I didn’t realize self-preservation was rude.” I spin the glass, sloshing the bubbly liquid around. It’s a miracle I haven’t dropped the thing yet with my nerves running at an all time high, but my thin mask of composure is still holding on- barely.
Kyle clicks his tongue and tilts his head, examining me. I fear I’ve made a mistake by snapping at him, wondering if he even knows that it’s me. Will he toy with me or try to end me if he finds out?
Something inside of me tells me I already know the answer. He’s not one to want to leave loose ends hanging about. And though, I still can’t remember shit, Ace has filled me in enough to make me a huge liability.
A dangerous glint fills Kyle’s eyes as he throws back the remnants of his drink, setting it down on a side table and turning his attention right back on me.
It’s just the two of us in this dark room lined with plush couches, a dancing pole and private bar set off to the side. His men are stationed right outside the door, so I know I can’t bolt,no matter how much my body is begging for me to get the hell out of here. I can feel it, the anxiety creeping up my limbs as he reaches for me.
“At least I can say my brother has good taste.” His hands are wrapped around my body, feeling him cup me aggressively like he has the right to. Disgust and an overwhelming sense of panic begs me to leave, leave, leave. I need to get out. I need to find Ace. More than ever, I wish I could block this out and run like I’m so used to.
The flute of champagne still resides in my hands, untouched and a distant thought forms in my head as Kyle’s palms rove over my body. It’s stupid and a huge fucking gamble, but I have no other choice. With as much force as my shaky arms can muster, I bring the glass down on his head, shattering it into a million pieces as champagne sprays over his shocked face. Shards embed themselves into my arm, but it gives me the space I need to get away from him.
A jagged bit resides in my hand, and I aim it at him, ready to lodge it into him if needed.
“You fucking bitch!” Kyle screams, lunging for me, but I’m ready. I slice at the air and slice his cheek. Blood pools from the open wound and a sick sense of satisfaction takes over me. He cups the injury as his skin around his neck starts to turn pink from anger. No one comes running to his aid, though with the doors being soundproof.
He reaches for me again, but I dodge him, putting the pole between us.
“What are you going to do, huh? There’s nowhere for you to go. You try and leave this room without me, and my men will drag you off to join your little boyfriend in the basement. You could have made this so much easier on yourself.” He digs in his pocket for something, eyes never leaving mine. His hair dripsover his forehead as sweat gathers along his lip. “I’ll make you regret being born you little shit.”
A slim syringe emerges from his pants pocket, and dread spills over into my mind, linking hands with the already present anxiety. If I was a different person, I would be able to push past this feeling- maybe. But my condition isn’t convenient nor predictable, and with all this added stress, my reaction happening in my body right now feels inevitable.
He gets past the pole and grabs me, covering my arms and making it impossible to fight him off. Every part of me is shaking, the feeling of passing out overwhelms me. Not now, not here. I think, wishing for my body to listen to me just this once, but there isn’t time to coach myself out of an episode. There’s no time for a breathing exercise as he brandishes the end of the shiny needle and stabs it into the exposed skin on my leg. A rush of cool numbing sensation spreads from the injection site.
Whatever it’s filled with works fast and has me slumping in his arms.
“You just had to make this harder on yourself, didn’t you. But don’t worry, I’ll have enough fun for the both of us.”
My eyes flutter closed as my body becomes weightless and unable to move. He drags me somewhere, plopping me down on a soft surface. The couch I assume. My thoughts become sluggish and harder to hold onto while he whispers about what he’s about to do to me. I can barely pay attention, feeling myself slip further and further away from consciousness. Desperately, I try to fight off its pull, but whatever substance is now pumping through my veins is strong. I’ve never been one for wanting to play the damsel in distress, but just this one time I find myself hoping that Ace will somehow make his way to me and get me out of here. The thought of Ace’s tortured face as he was being dragged away is the last thing I see in my mind’s eye before everything goes dark.
CHAPTER 26
ACE
27 YEARS OLD
All I can focus on,is getting to Hazel. Thankfully, a drunk as hell couple had tossed their masks to fuck in one of the many rooms down here, making it easy to swipe. Knowing Kyle, he’ll have taken her to his personal VIP booth that he’d had made just for him. Outfitting it with his specific requirements. Knowing just how twisted his tastes run, I hurry through the throng of partygoers, who’ve all congregated into a mass of limbs, writhing against each other in time to the beat. If I didn’t know any better, I would have thought I’d just stumbled into some ritual. The outlandish masks and outfits, the deep pulsating music, the flickering of the fake flames along the walls.
I’ve only just gotten Hazel back into my life. This quest to destroy my brother for his crimes and free Hazel seemed like the right course of action at the time, but now I wish we never left my loft. The need for vengeance has been so ingrained in me, I mean fuck I even got it tattooed onto my skin. My sole purpose for breathing has been focused on this. Nights spent holed up learning everything I can, countless resources blown on gathering intel. And for what?
I’ve never failed so spectacularly before. They had to have been tipped off somehow. Probably trailing me with a P.I. thatI didn’t pick up on. My mind has been singularly focused elsewhere with Hazel here, I’d let my guard down and now I’m paying for that mistake.
There are two stairs that I can take but the men stationed outside the doors closer to the ones on the left let me know that that’s where he is. He’s too chicken shit to go anywhere unguarded in a place like this.
I’m grabbed around the middle by a woman wearing a peacock feather in her hair and a matching mask and dress. It burns like a motherfucking bitch, making me gasp for breath. Sweat pools down my back and around the corners of the mask I’ve secured to my face. Grunting, I pull her claws off my body and stumble away into a solid body that only increases the torment on my bones tenfold.
“Watch it, buddy.” The guy says and I put my hands up not wanting any more trouble or attention brought my way.
“My bad.” He turns back to his companions, letting the women he’s with continue their perusal of his body.
The stairs finally come into view and I begin my agonizing ascent. Hoping that I’m pulling off a drunk look instead of gravely injured one, because the two guards stationed outside what I assume is Kyle’s VIP room are watching me with interest.
