Page 12 of Hellebore

A new message slides across the top. “Tonight we hit Bauhaus?” Lucille.

What the fuck is Bauhaus?

My fingers fly across the second phone I keep in the center console. I search it quickly, heart pounding. The results load fast.

A gothic club. Industrial. Black walls, blood-red lights.

Shit.

Briar is already typing. Her thumbs move quickly across the cracked screen, that familiar half-smile tugging at her lips, the same one she used to give the court when she won a match all those years ago.

“Of course!” she replies.

Well… I guess I am going to a gothic club tonight.

Chapter Five

BRIAR

That asshole didn’t reply to my message.

Not that I’m surprised. It’s not the first time Luke has gone radio silent after a half-decent fuck, and the sad truth is he’s not even good at it. He couldn’t find my clit with a map, a flashlight, and written instructions. Still, I keep saying yes. Still, I keep letting him crawl back into my bed because I’m an idiot.

I need better. I deserve better.

Lucille’s text is exactly the lifeline I needed tonight.

I set the phone down, pour the last of the red wine into my glass, and head to the bedroom. The apartment feels too quiet without music so I crank the volume back up and let the music wrap around me. The bass thrums through the floorboards and into my bare feet as I stand in front of the open closet.

Time to remind myself I’m not just some sad girl who waits around for mediocre dick.

I pull out the pieces one by one, laying them on the bed.

First the black lace long-sleeve crop top. The fabric is sheer enough to tease, tight enough to cling. I slide it over my head and adjust the hem so it sits right under the curve of my breasts, exposing a strip of pale stomach. The lace scratches softly against my skin in the best way. Next come the high-waisted black shorts, so tight they feel like a second layer of skin, riding high on my thighs and making my legs look endless. I turn slightly, checking the way they hug my ass. Perfect.

I sit on the edge of the bed and roll the black thigh-high stockings up slowly, one leg at a time. I smooth them with both palms, enjoying the way the fabric makes my legs look. The chunky black combat boots come last, heavy, aggressive, laces pulled tight. I stomp each foot once, letting the weight settle.

I lean close to the full-length mirror on the back of the door. Cat-eye liner first with sharp, wicked wings that make my blue eyes look dangerous instead of soft. Fake lashes go on next, thick and dramatic. My skin is already pale as moonlight, so I skip the blush and dust on fine silver glitter instead, letting it catch the light. Finally the lipstick: deep, dark purple, almost black. I press my lips together, then smile at my reflection.

Holy shit.

I step back and look at the whole thing.

The lace top clings to every curve. The shorts ride high enough to make my thighs look lethal. The combat boots give me height and attitude, turning the entire outfit into something that says “come closer if you dare”. My long black hair falls straight over one shoulder. The glitter on my cheeks sparkles every time I move. The purple lipstick is my favorite one. The one I keep using over and over but it makes me feel hot, sexy and powerful.

For the first time in weeks the girl staring back at me doesn’t look like someone who settles for half-assed hook-ups and cheap wine at two in the afternoon.

I run my hands down my sides, hips rolling once just to watch the way the outfit moves with me. A low laugh slips out.

“Perfect,” I whisper to my reflection. “Let’s go break some hearts tonight.”

Bauhaus is going to be packed. Stone walls, old dark wood, blood-red lights, eighties songs blasting until four in the morning. It sits right on the edge of the woods and the second I step inside I know I’ll lose myself.

My mind will finally shut the fuck up and all that will matter is the bass in my chest and the eyes on my body.

I stand in front of the mirror and take a full body picture, then send it to my profile, tagging Lucille.

“This action can not be completed.” The error appears.