He called me back almost immediately, and it was so relaxing to hear his voice. I hadn’t seen him in a week and our usual Sunday dinner was fast approaching. I looked forward to the weekly dinners with my parents. We laughed and bickered, and the conversations were always effortless and fun. When Jack joined, I wasn’t the only one they teased and told Dad jokes to. Maybe I could get him to come with me this weekend. They’d always treated Jack like their son, and he hadn’t been to dinner with us in two months. I know they’d love to see him.
“Hi, Dad,” I called out cheerfully before I went into the details of the negotiations and tour. He sounded genuinely excited, and that made me feel joyful. This was going to be a good purchase to add to the family portfolio. I wouldn’t let it be anything else.
As I ended the call with my Dad, Franklin pulled the car up to the door of my home. I knew he’d wait for me while I got ready, so I didn’t say a word as I rushed out of the car and into the house. I had to change clothes and get prepared to be the nightclub princess, which was my second job.
There was really no need to rush. Honestly, I was just anxious about my encounter with Mr. Winter. Vaughn. My insides were all knotted up and that strange pull in my chest still wouldn’t leave. I’d felt the feeling before. Only once before. It was a feeling I’d never forget. It was also a feeling that ended up breaking my cold, black heart.
Two years I wasted with that fucking druid, and he just vanished. No text. No phone call. No tracks. He disappeared. Like my mother. Except, when he went missing, so did the pull in my chest. Almost like he was — nope. Not fucking going there.
I was spiraling again, and there was nothing fun or dirty about the tangled web of emotions I’d found myself in. White knuckling the counter in my kitchen, I shoved all those thoughts away. I locked them back in the box they belonged in. I could handle so much, but those emotions? The sad ones? The ones that made my hurt surface and led me to be bitter? Nope. Not my thing. I hated them. I didn’t have time to deal with that shit show. I’d simply close my eyes to it all. I would will them away with sheer determination.
Pencil it in, Sloane. You’ve got a metric fuck load of shit to do. You cannot afford a mental breakdown right now.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
Right. Now that I had my head back on straight, I needed to get ready. Maybe I’d primp a little more tonight and try to look like I wasn’t balancing on the cliff’s edge in a downward tailspin of emotional trauma. With a nod to myself, I headed to my bathroom and jumped in the shower. I really didn’t want to wash my hair, so just a quick scrub to get the feeling of that slimy man's hands off me would do. If I stood under the hot water for too long I’d get lost in my thoughts again. I couldn’t let that happen.
An hour and a half later and I was feeling much better. Who was I kidding? What I meant to say was two and a half hours and I wanted to drink for the second night in a row, but it was fine. I was fine. Totally fine. I’d go to the club and get tonight started and over with. I had more work to do when I got home, but after today, I may skip it and watch a gory movie or read some book porn. Fuck. Jack was right. I did need to get laid. I had a hunch that it might make me feel better.
Get back to work, Sloane.
Right.
Work.
Club.
My father, Nathaniel, owned one of the most exclusive nightclubs on the eastern coast. The entry list was booked eight months in advance and never held cancelations. The crowd outside wrapped around the entire block every night that we were open, with the hope that they’d get in. There was red carpet on the shallow stairs, covered by a long black awning. Red velvet ropes blocked the door, attached to golden posts, manned by what most people called breathing steel. Almost literally. The bouncers outside were some of the largest males I’d ever seen, and they stood stoic in tailor made, solid black suits. That’s where I was headed tonight. To work. Insert sarcastic finger air quotes.
I jumped back in the SUV thirty minutes later. I tried on seven different outfits but none of them matched my mood until I found a dress that I hadn’t worn yet in the back of my closet. Now, I was in a tight black minidress with blood red stilettos that matched my lips. I could already tell that this dress was going to be one of my favorites. It had an upside-down triangle-shaped cut out under my breasts that was about four inches long and six inches wide, showing off some extra skin. It felt so comfortable that it seemed nearly as good as being naked in a warm room. It made me feel sexy and alluring, and that was all I really needed to get this job done.
I tried to ease my mind on the drive to the club. Closing my eyes, I inhaled deeply and released the breath slowly. I peeked into my future. I didn’t much care for surprises, but I also knew better than to look too far, or too often, into my own future. It never ended well. Maybe one little peek would simply show me that it was going to be a boring and uneventful night. Then I could go home early and get back to all that important shit I had left to do.
What I Saw wasn’t what I was hoping for, though. It never worked like I wanted it to. I spotted a muscular man sitting next to me in my VIP booth. He had his head turned, and I couldn’t see his face, but his build seemed familiar to me. I’d seen him somewhere before. I knew I had. His shoulders and arm muscles were tense, his hand squeezed so tightly into a fist that his knuckles were changing colors. His jaw was clenched, and as I followed the direction that held his attention I saw a familiar face. Taylor Caplin would be in the club tonight, and he would be watching me. Us.
Maybe tonight wouldn’t be the same boring routine of ignoring the people who wanted to sit with me in my permanently reserved booth just to say they’d been there. Maybe the mysterious male was someone who was genuinely interested in a conversation with me. And maybe Taylor would leave me the fuck alone.
It was a long shot, I know. A bitch could dream, though.
We pulled up outside the club while I was still lost in my Sight. Franklin patiently waited for me to tell him when I was ready to exit the SUV. The people waiting in line all stared and gossiped in hushed tones. They knew who I was, or so they thought. I could hear their whispers like they were speaking directly in front of me, not from fifteen feet away and through bullet proof, steel lined doors. I heard their thoughts too, and that happened to be what jerked me from my Sight. Every dark and dirty thing that crossed their minds was on display for me. It took me years to learn how to block other people’s thoughts, and even more time to learn how to select which thoughts to hear. Tonight I didn’t want to hear any of their thoughts, so I locked my mind down tighter than my dress.
I tapped the shoulder of Franklin’s seat to get his attention. He hopped out of the driver's side door and opened mine with haste. I gave him a polite “thank you” and strutted towards the bouncers. Sarge was working tonight. He was one of my favorite brooding beasts. He was smaller than the other bouncers, but twice as deadly. He never cracked a smile, and he absolutely hated when I joked at his expense. He was good at his job, though. He kept a tight leash on the security team. The patrons very rarely stepped out of line with him here.
He moved away from the ropes, handing the clipboard to the male I’d nicknamed Hulk, and extended his hand to help me up the stairs. “Are you always such a gentleman, or do you just really like me?” I teased him with a saccharine smile while mentally reprimanding myself. Or maybe it was in his job description, you thirsty bitch.