"What? You asked where I go with Copeland. You're getting the unfiltered version tonight." I toss the boots next to the clothes. "Better get used to it."
She yanks her jeans up the rest of the way, avoiding my eyes. "I didn't know it involved a wardrobe change."
"Everything about where we're going involves a change." I lean against her dresser, watching as she pulls her sweatshirt over her head.
She’s not wearing a bra, and I am about to choke myself out so I don’t walk the five feet, suck a nipple into my mouth and throw her on the bed before corrupting her.
Pulling on the white shirt, her breasts strain against the fabric, and I’m not ashamed to admit I’m obsessed with this look.
We’re pulling up to the warehouse district where BEDLAM is held tonight.
"You stay by my side the entire time. No wandering off. No going to the bathroom. Nothing, you got it?" I don’t smirk or fidget. She needs to take thisseriously.
"Yea, I’m not that stupid. You’re bringing me to some creepy ass place late at night. I have no desire to not be by your side."
The lot is packed with cars, but we manage to find a spot in the far corner. I kill the engine and get out, walking around to her side. She's already climbed out, eyes wide as she takes in the massive warehouse looming ahead. Bass thumps from inside, vibrating through the asphalt under our feet.
"This is it?" she asks, voice small but excited.
I nod, placing my hand on the small of her back. "Remember what I said. Stay close."
We walk toward the entrance where a hulking figure stands guard. Archer. Fucking perfect. Of all the nights for him to be working the door.
His eyes light up when he spots us, a wolfish grin spreading across his face. "Well, well. Look at the adorable matching couple."
Reese's brow furrows. "We're not matching—" She stops, looking over at me, then down at herself. Her eyes widen as she realizes we're wearing identical outfits—black jeans, white t-shirt, black boots.
A blush creeps up her neck as she stares at me. "Did you do this on purpose?"
Before I can answer, Archer’s laugh cuts through the air.
"Shut the fuck up, Arch," I growl.
He just smirks wider, leaning against the door frame. "Didn't think I'd see you tonight, Ramsey. Reaper is already here."
My stomach tightens. Copeland being here complicatesthings. I wasn't planning on actually participating tonight, just showing Reese what BEDLAM is. But if Copeland spots me watching from the sidelines with her, I'll never hear the end of it.
West reaches for a red marker from the table beside him. I shake my head quickly.
"Nah, blue for her and for me."
Archer fucking loses it, doubling over with laughter. "Well, okay then, Ghost." He wipes tears from his eyes. "Blue it is."
He grabs the blue marker and swipes it across our forearms, leaving thick streaks of luminescent paint that glows under the black lights.
I pull Reese through the entrance, her fingers clutching mine.
"What the hell was that about?" she asks, looking down at the blue mark on her arm that seems to pulse in the darkness.
"Color coding," I mutter, pulling her closer as we push through the crowd. "Red is for participants. Blue is for spectators."
Her eyes narrow. "Participants in what?"
I don't answer, just guide her deeper into the warehouse. The main floor is packed with bodies, some dancing, others just watching. Smoke hangs in the air, mingling with sweat, perfume, and adrenaline.
"Welcome to BEDLAM," I say, guiding her deeper into the warehouse. "Where the rich and powerful come to let out their darkest impulses."
The main floor is packed with bodies,some dancing, others just circling, watching. Most are dressed in black, with various colored marks on their arms. Some are barely dressed at all.
