We exit two stops later.
The Redline glows ahead and before we walk in, I pull Lucas aside. “Look,” I say quietly. “Millie is… struggling, okay? Don’t stare.”
He nods, his expression earnest. “I’m not here to judge your family.”
My eyes take a minute to adjust, and all I see are mirrors—everywhere, reflecting bodies from every angle. I watch as a girl with silver rings through both nipples, a thin chain connecting them, dances solo on the counter, lost in the music. A man leans over, trying to touch her, but she steps hard on his foot, and he yelps, pulling back.
What really steals my attention, though, are those damn lollipops. All the girls are sucking on them. Some of the men too. Most lips in here are stained dark, like they’ve been chewing on ink.
Lucas stiffens beside me, a statue in a den of sin.
A woman in thigh-high boots slides close, “You two looking for something private?” she asks, licking her lips. “Follow the red line—it’ll take you straight to paradise.”
I glance down at the red line crossing the floor, and I beg whatever force in the sky that paradise doesn’t include my sister.
“We’re good,” I cut in quickly.
Lucas clears his throat. “This place is…”
“Yeah.”
A man at the bar is tracing a girl’s tattoo with his finger like he paid for the right.
My eyes scan the room again, searching, and I start moving toward the bar.
“Hey,” I say, leaning against the sticky wood to get the bartender’s attention. “Do you know a girl named Millie? Or… Zaitseva?”
“No,” he says without looking up. “Nobody by that name.”
When he looks up properly, I recognize the green eyes, the shaved head.It’s the biker,Jax’s friend from that night.
He leans his forearms on the bar slightly. “You,” he says.
I don’t move.
“Visiting again?”
Lucas straightens beside me, his posture radiating polite confusion. “You two know each other?” he asks carefully.
The bartender’s mouth tilts. “Briefly.”
His eyes slide back to me, amused. “I didn’t catch your name last time.”
“I didn’t offer it.”
He chuckles. “Fair. I’m Matt.”
Lucas shifts closer. “She’s looking for her sister,” he says, a little too firmly.
Matt studies me again. “Sister?” he repeats.
“Yeah.”
“There’s a girl. Got the same look, like she’s gonna tell you to go fuck yourself. Calls herself Nurse. You can’t go up there, though. Private floor.”
Lucas stiffens at that.
“Thanks,” I say, moving toward it anyway.
