A dull ache twisted in my chest, stealing the breath from my lungs. I blinked fast, swallowing the burn that was creeping up my throat. I would not cry for that bastard—not after everything he had done. Logan should’ve been dead, yet somehow, he stillhaunted me. No matter how many times I buried him, his corpse kept crawling back out of its shallow grave to haunt me.
My phone buzzed against my chest. Only two people had this number, Parsons and Watson, and both were stored under fake aliases.
I glanced down, coming upon the bright, bold letters of Astoria’s name. She must have snagged the phone and put her number in when I was in the shower this morning, making sure to add the flamingo emoji next to it to differentiate her from every other Astoria in it, obviously.
I sighed, torn between my goal of revenge and the guilt eating away at my heart. Answering meant another step toward dismantling her brother and the Knights—but Astoria had been kind to me. Too kind. My brother used to say I felt everything way too deeply, and that was partly why I was grateful to have grown up away from the club. It made it easier to pretend my family was just auto mechanics when people from school asked me about them.
Swiping right, I brought the phone to my ear. “Hello.”
“Hey bitch,” Astoria’s cheery voice sounded over the rock music blaring in the background. “Are you dressed?”
“Uh…” I glanced down at my worn AC/DC shirt and cutoff shorts. “Define your version of dressed?”
“Someth—hold on,” Astoria grumbled before her voice became distant. “Give me a damn second, Vincent. I will be out there when I am ready.”
A gruff man’s voice snapped back at her, but I couldn’t make out what was being said. Astoria mimicked him in a high-pitched tone for a moment before coming back to the phone. “Sorry about that, Acelynn. I swear these men don’t know how to properly listen. Anyway, as I was saying, change into something sexy. You are coming to the bar tonight.”
I let out a sarcastic laugh. “Yeah, no thanks.”
“Come onnnnn,” Astoria whined. “It’ll be fun! I can show you the lay of the land behind the bar before you start a real shift, and you can get the vibe of how the bar is. I only have to work for an hour tops tonight. Josie and Karli are already here. Thursdays are dead, just regulars and club boys. And I want to dance!”
I tilted my head back, letting out a groan. The last thing I wanted to do was interact with people tonight, but maybe a drink or two with Astoria would do me some good. I used to love dancing in college. There was something so exhilarating about letting myself feel the beat of the music in the pit of my stomach with a stranger who I would forget about in the next hour.
“Fine,” I relented.
Astoria let out an earsplitting squeal, which had me pulling the device away from my ear. I stood up from the slanted roof and climbed back through the open window, phone wedged between my ear and shoulder.
“How long do I have to get ready?”
She hummed. “An hour? I’ll be done with anything the girls might need behind the bar by then, and then I will be all yours!”
“Lucky me,” I replied.
Astoria just let out a laugh in reply, which made me smile. There were very few people in my life who had ever gotten my dry, sarcastic tone. Most just thought I was being a bitch who needed an attitude adjustment.
“I’ll see you in an hour, Tori.”
“I’ll have a shot waiting for you, Ace.”
The Queen’s Table was packed.
Lights pulsed through the parking lot in time with the blaring music coming from inside. A wall of people crowded thebar’s entrance, making it impossible to see where the door was actually located. I placed the car in park before stepping from the driver’s seat, eyes wide with amazement at the spectacle that was happening before me.
A girl in a green leather skirt and halter top strutted, taking a drag from a fruit-scented vape. The smoke swirled behind her like a neon ghost. As I scanned the crowd, I realized that most of the women around me were dressed similarly to her. Suddenly, I felt out of place in the outfit I had chosen. The light denim cutoffs and black cropped turtleneck with a keyhole cutout made me immediately wish I had dug out the corset from the back of my duffel.
“Fuck it,” I muttered, running both hands through my hair before heading toward the bar’s entrance.
Inside, the place pulsed with energy. Cheers of excitement roared over the music as I shoved my way through the crowd of people that were packed together like sardines, but once I did, I could see why everyone was shouting.
Neon lights flickered, and the thumping beat of music vibrated through the small space. In the center of the L-shaped bar, Astoria and another girl moved in time with each other. There was a glint of mischief in her eyes as she danced with confidence, her movements fluid and alluring. The female behind her had flaming red hair that flowed down her spine as she threw her head back, laughing at something Astoria shouted before she found herself lost in the music’s rhythm once again. The crowd was entranced with them.
Across the bar, a woman with dark-blue hair sat with a plastic cup filled with clear liquid in her hand, while a man stood between her legs. He tossed back a shot of dark-colored liquor in one go, grimacing at the taste. A split second later, she was throwing the cup of water in his face with one hand and slapping him with the other. The crack of her palm landing against hischeek sounded even over the roaring crowd. The man stared up at the woman with a mix of admiration and lust. She chuckled before standing up on the bar and making her way over to Astoria as the song changed.
Without even missing a beat, the girls began a rehearsed routine. Their movements sent an electric feeling through the crowd. Astoria backed up to the blue-haired girl, hands running down her hips as she ground down on the other girl. The bar was their stage, and they held every person in this place’s attention as they performed.
Astoria bent for a bottle of tequila behind the bar. She raised back up, taking a swig of the alcohol before offering it to the other girls, who stepped away from her to grab a short female by the throat and drag her forward. The girl willingly obliged, opening her mouth as she poured the alcohol down her throat.
Some of the liquid dribbled out of her mouth, over the hand on her neck, and down the front of her chest. The blue-haired girl leaned forward, tongue flicking out, and cleaned up her chest. I chuckled lightly at the scene in front of me. Everything the Knights did, they did well, and I should have known that their bar wouldn’t be your run-of-the-mill, small-town dive.
