“Yes, but...” He hesitated, and I knew what was coming.
“But?”
“Iggy, will you... will you come with us?”
There it was.
“Clara’s coming too,” he rushed on. “There’ll be a few of us. You and I can stick to the dance floor or the smoking area, and if it gets hard, we’ll leave. Straight back to the hotel. Food. Decompressing.”
“I don’t know,” I said, exhaling slowly.
Every instinct told me it was a bad idea. The temptation would be everywhere. Loud music, bodies pressed close, substances passed hand to hand. It would be easy to slip, easy to disappear into the moment and take ten steps backwards before we even realised it.
But we wouldn’t be alone. We’d have each other. Extra vigilance. Extra care. The guys already knew about Bodhi’s recovery, so it wouldn’t just be on me to keep an eye out. And if I faltered... I trusted that Bodhi would steady me, just like I would him.
Hopefully.
“Please, Iggy?” he said quietly. “If you’re with me, I’ll feel safe. Like it’ll be okay. Because of our pact.”
I closed my eyes and tightened my grip on the phone. We couldn’t hide forever. At some point, we had to step back into the world and trust ourselves to survive it. Maybe this was exposure therapy on hard mode. Maybe if we made it through tonight, the rest of the tour wouldn’t feel so daunting.
I exhaled, the decision already tumbling from my mouth before I could second-guess it.
“Okay.”
“Okay,” Bodhi echoed, relief flooding his voice. “Okay, great. I’ll tell you the details when we get back to the hotel.”
“Sure,” I said, smiling even though he couldn’t see it. “See you later.”
“Bye, Iggy Pop.”
The line went dead. I kept walking until I found a narrow alley where I could stop and breathe, letting my heart settle back into my chest. Once I felt steady enough, I pulled out my phone and opened a browser.
KitKatClub Berlin.
I barely made it past the first page before my eyebrows shot up towards my hairline.
A fetish club.
Okay. Also a nightclub. A very famous one. But the photos were... something else. Leather straps. Fishnets. Harnesses. Bodies wearing next to nothing. Some wearing absolutely nothing at all. And no one looked remotely fazed by it.
My mouth curled into a slow smile.
I opened a new tab and searched for clothing shops nearby.
By the time I left the alley I had a mission, and a credit card that was about to suffer dearly.
CHAPTER
NINE
BODHI
We congregatedin the lobby at eleven p.m. to head to the KitKatClub. It wasn’t our first time going, and I was wearing the same outfit as last time: tight leather pants, black boots, and a cropped mesh tank that ended just above my bellybutton. The others had followed suit with their own variations on fetish-inspired fashion. Lots of leather. Lots of latex. Very little functional clothing overall.
Even Clara had ditched her usual strait-laced blonde professionalism for a tight, studded corset, looking so out of character that Thump’s jaw practically hit the floor.
The only one we were waiting on was Iggy.
