I’m relaxing with a glass of wine at a table with Mercy, Tessa, and Jax. “Hips Don’t Lie” by Shakira, featuring Wyclef Jean, blares from the sound system. Maddox has been onstage or at the judges’ table most of the night, which might be for the best because Tessa calls them allmoronsfrom time to time. Something tells me he loves her snarky attitude though.
Jax is a mystery—pale blue hair, gauge ear piercings, tattoos, and an introspective bravado that is both deep and disconcerting. It’s a mystery I’ve partially unraveled.
When he met me tonight, he stared at me for a long beat, held my hand during a half hug, and said, “You never stop seeing it either. I’m sorry.”
I squeezed him back, replying, “Me too.”
It was both strange and comforting. I’m not sure why I knew what he was referring to, but maybe it’s like the unspoken understanding between people who have snuffed out life—he’s part of that club too. We both lost our moms. Violently. From what I’ve read, we were about the same age for that experience.
Not that he could know that, which meant he truly recognized it and his horror had been similar to mine. A beloved,innocent woman perishing due to a monster—possibly the same one. Axel had claimed they all saw his father in their nightmares too.
I might have shown up here with a smidgen of wrath on behalf of my mother, but it’s impossible to hate anything about this place when I know they suffered like I did. I wonder if my eyes reflect the same disturbing hollowness as Jax’s.
After that, we all settled into a communal mocking of the dancers onstage.
Mercy lifts her drink, toasting the odd performance. “That’s an impressive back bend.”
Since the man’s shoes are glued to the floor, I’m inclined to agree.
“For the love of all the freaky holy things,” Tessa drones between sips of her espresso martini, “he’s thrusting to the beat.”
That judgment is a fair point too. It’s absurd.
“Disturbing talent is still talent.” I tilt my head, noting how the blood is rushing to the man’s face.
“It proves he’d have some moves, even if he were …” Jax pauses, but the whole table awaits. “Tied to a bed.” He glances at us. “He’ll get some numbers after this.”
“If that’s the case, women have an alarmingly low bar,” Tessa snipes.
“That he seems to be able to bend for,” I quip, to which they laugh. Swirling my wine, I track the competition beyond the red film lingering on the glass. “So, this is just an average weeknight in the Underground? Is dancing always part of it?”
Tessa’s face lights up despite her effort to rein in her pride. “If Maddox is involved, there’s always dancing.”
“True.” Jax bobs his head, taking that second-too-long pause again. “Unless there are pigs. Dancing never goes well with them.”
As I’m contemplating whether I should probe further about the pigs, another Noire shows up. I recognize him from the files Tripp gave me to study.
“Zara,” the haughty blond rasps, “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you.” A devil-may-care grin coasts up one cheek as he takes me in. “I’m Cash. I’ve heard andseennothing but phenomenal things about you.”
The video.
Jax didn’t mention it, so I nearly forgot the entire Noire crew had been privy to my morning workout a few days ago.
This guy is trouble. The fun kind. But trouble, all the same. The ones who know how gorgeous they are always are.
“I’m sure you have.” I mimic his smile, sipping my wine casually. “I haven’t heard anything about you though. Do you work here?”
Jax’s head falls back with a howl as Mercy and Tessa both erupt in laughter.
Cash’s blue eyes narrow on them before he returns to me with a suave air that I’m certain melts most women. “Well played.” He doesn’t even consider the possibility of me being unaware that he’s a Noire, which is stupidly charming. “And an excellent point. Let’s remedy that. Dinner Friday night?”
Three sets of eyes burn a hole into the side of my face, but I don’t give credence to whatever opinion they may have. Speaking strategically, it couldn’t hurt. Cash might be able to point me in the right direction so I can get something to keep the client happy, especially since it was clear by that text thread that Axel hadn’t shared his suspicions. Even telling Tripp I’ll be meeting with another Noire will go a long way.
But before I can answer, Mercy pipes up, “We have family dinner that night.”
Cash blows that off. “I’ll tell him I have more important plans and come late.”
“It’s game night too,” Tessa adds with an arched brow.
