Mandy’s kitten heels are on my feet, the ones I was supposed to return and completely forgot about. At least they’re cute and low enough that I won’t snap an ankle in them tonight.
My brain is wired like I swallowed ten coffees, even though I’ve had nothing but water and a few bites of food I barely tasted.
I sit there with both hands braced on the wheel, dragging air in and out until my lungs start working again.
You’re doing this for Milo. You’re protecting him. It’s what any good mother would do.
The words don’t calm me, but they’re the only ones I’ve got.
The mask sits on the passenger seat, still nestled in its black velvet box, the lid stamped with a black circle and a red club. I’m supposed to put it on when I get there, wherever “there” even is.
It’s gorgeous; I’ll give it that. Deep green with intricate lace and tiny stones around the eyes. It also looks expensive enough to make my stomach tighten.
I start the car before I can chicken out, the engine coughing to life. The address from the text is already pulled up on my phone, a blue line guiding me turn by turn toward the worst decision I’ve ever made.
Streetlights thin out as I drive, buildings giving way to warehouses, auto shops, and lots packed with shipping containers. Then the cars start appearing, one after another, too polished for this part of town. Black sedans. Low, sleek sports cars. SUVs with tinted windows.
By the time the navigation tells me I’ve arrived, my palms are slick on the wheel.
A line of masked people moves toward a glass door. Men in tuxes, women in beautiful gowns. Their voices drift back to me, easy and amused, like this is a normal Friday night for them.
Maybe it is, but for me, this is insanity.
The building itself looks like an abandoned warehouse, three stories of dark brick and blacked-out windows looming ahead, set back from the road. People start to form a line before a man in a red devil’s mask appears.
I roll forward with the line of cars, my little Volkswagen hopelessly out of place between a sleek black sedan and a low silver sports car, then pull into an open spot and cut the engine before I can talk myself out of it.
“Okay,” I whisper. “You’re a big girl. You’ve got this.”
But the last time I was at any kind of party, I got too drunk and ended up pregnant, so I’m not much of a party girl these days. Especially when said party is actually a sex club.
My God, I never thought I’d actually say that.
Sliding my mask into place, I grab my handbag and step out, shutting the door behind me. My nerves hit my gut as I wait in line, a few women glancing over with knowing grins.
“Hi,” one of them says.
“Uh, hey…”
Her gaze rakes over me like she’s sizing me up. “You look nervous.” A laugh slips out, her red lips tipping up. “First time?”
I nod, and the woman beside her giggles, both of them glittering behind gold masks studded with rhinestones. The first one leans closer like she’s about to share gossip, then pauses when her friend murmurs something in her ear, and her whole expression stills.
“Are you joining the claim?”
My pulse jumps as the line inches forward. “How did you know?”
She flicks her eyes to my mask. “Color gives it away. People doing the claim wear the same shade.”
“You’re brave,” her friend adds, tugging at the delicate straps of a white gown that barely qualifies as fabric. It’s sheer enough that I can make out everything. She looks pleased about it too. “A month with a stranger is…a lot.”
Yeah, thanks for the reminder, asshole.
“She’ll be fine. People here know how to behave.”
“Because if they don’t…” the friend says, smile turning sly. “The owners get unhappy.”
They both laugh like it’s a private joke.
