by Pamela Ann
Ten minutes later, I pulled up outside the club in my brand new red and black Bugatti Chiron. It came with a hefty price tag, but it was my early birthday present to myself. I had no one to spend on, so I figured why not splurge on something I’d really like? Ari almost had a stroke after he found out what I purchased this afternoon. He’d been praying that after my accident six months ago, I’d stick to driving my good ole safe Range Rover. But what he couldn’t understand was how a man like myself needed the adrenaline rush, much more so now when I could barely feel alive. There were a few things in this world that connected me to the living. Ari knew better than to push me further in my solid stance of recklessness.
Getting out of the car, I greeted the valet with a quick nod as I handed him my keys. “Take extra care of this baby, will you? It’s barely six hours old.”
The grinning silver-blonde haired African American man tapped my shoulder for reassurance. “I got you, boy. We good.”
“Thanks, man.”
The line to the club was long, and while I heard a few people hollering to get my attention, I barely paid attention to the noise as I pulled out my phone and immediately called Phoenix.
The club’s bouncer nodded toward me, acknowledging that I could go inside whenever I was ready. This was one of the perks of being famous—one didn’t need an I.D. any longer. All they had to do was google me, and my entire history was there, laid out before them since birth. I used to be sensitive about people learning my horrible past, but I had learned over these past months that I didn’t give a rat’s ass what they thought of me anymore. Hate me, love me, it was all the same in my book.
“You outside, man?” Phoenix’s drunk voice broke through my thoughts, bringing me back to the present.
Clearing my throat, it took me a second before responding to him, “Uh, yeah, I’m right outside the entrance.”
“Good, good. I’ll be right out,” he said just as I heard Kells’ voice before cutting the call.
Lately, those two had been at each other’s throats. It was a common occurrence when someone was on the road for months. Kells, it seemed, had a nasty habit of stalking his social media. My man Phoenix wasn’t one to filter his world for the good of his relationship, so it never failed to irk his girlfriend. I kept telling him maybe he wasn’t the sort to be in a relationship, anyway. Besides, who would want to be in a committed relationship when you met so many chicks on the road? We still had another four months to go. Well, best wishes to them both. Hopefully, they’d survive the next oncoming months.
So, while I waited for my friend to come out of the club’s entrance, I occupied my time by going through my Instagram. Within minutes, there were several attempts of women vying to get my attention. But after ten minutes of waiting and with Phoenix nowhere in sight, I began to wonder if Kells had decided to murder him while taking a piss in the restroom.
Anxious, I tried calling him again, but my call went straight to voicemail.
Left with no choice, I nodded at the bouncer as I strolled toward the door, ready to hunt down Phoenix, wherever he may be, dead or alive. The dimmed pathway opened up to a larger section, directly across the stage where an alternative band was on set.
Adjusting my eyes, I scoured the booths for any sign of Phoenix, but he wasn’t around the section closest to me. Did I have the patience to walk around and check, or should I just bounce and head straight to Petra’s friend’s party … where there would be a vast selection of the goods I was craving, anyway?
Just before I was about to turn around and retrace my steps, Phoenix came out of nowhere and punched my arm.
His red-rimmed eyes told me he was high as a kite. “Fucker, I told you to wait outside.” He gave me a toothy grin before briskly inserting something in my pocket. He then threw me a pointed look, as if trying to measure how sober I was. Compared to him, I was sober as a rock. “Ari called me earlier. Said to watch out for you … maybe lighten the load a bit.”
My scowl deepened. “I don’t want to be an ass, but you’re not on his payroll.” The last thing I required was Ari and Phoenix conspiring to bring me down to earth. This was my life, my decision. They should know better than to meddle in my affairs.
He held both of his hands against his chest, indicating he was ready to drop the subject while grinning like an idiot. “Hey, just had to say it. Don’t shoot the messenger.”
I snickered. Phoenix didn’t want to get chewed out by my manager. This way, at least he could argue that he did manage to tell me. If the goal was accomplished or not, well, it wasn’t his to decide.
“Where’s your hot shadow?” he asked, referring to Petra. It was a given when I was back in town, the woman trailed behind me.
“I’m about to meet up with her in the Hills. Her friend’s having a party. Why don’t you round up the guys and let’s all head out there?”
Phoenix sheepishly laughed before shaking his head. “I’d love to, but it’s Anton’s birthday, and I already promised Kells I’m staying put. You know I’m your wingman, but dude, I don’t want to risk spending a night sleeping on the couch. After last night, I don’t want to provoke my chick. She can get crazy, you know.”
“If you say so, man,” I murmured, scanning the crowd. “If you say so.” It was Anton’s birthday … That meant my cheating ex was around the corner.
“You should leave, man. The way you’re surfing the crowd, I know you’re hunting her down. Trust me, walk out of here and forget about it.”
Forget about it, right. If only it were that easy.
Damn.
Hell, maybe Phoenix was right, I should leave.
A disgruntled sound came out of my lips. “You’re right; this isn’t a good idea.” I immediately realized, hitting me full-on as I picked up on the telltale signs of my body. Gauging the way my heart was thumping against my chest, I felt the familiar rush in my system as the knots in my neck tightened. It was unlike cocaine, the weed, the alcohol rush I was used to as of late. It was like a whirr—a deep-rooted switch in my psyche pulsed to life—like an ignition revving up before a race.
The tension. The thickness in the air. The palpable electricity flowing through me, pounding through my body as it jolted me awake, stirring my senses acutely. It was as if I had a built-in compass, and it pointed me in the direction of the culprit who consistently hijacked my subconscious.
Then I found her.
My eyes immediately locked. They fastened onto her like a missile on its designated target. Like tunnel vision, I saw no one but her. And as much as I hated myself, I couldn’t look away. How could I? How could any man? She was fucking beautiful to gaze at. Like a painting, like a moving portrait come to life. The closest thing to perfection. For a brief moment, I allowed myself to be taken by her, and I stood in awe, astounded by her unmatched beauty.
Her hair was longer, her waist smaller than I remembered. Dressed in a tight-hugging black short latex dress, showcasing her curves for everyone to see. It was as if someone had doused me with ice-cold water, sobering me up from my suspended reality.
This was Cara—the very woman who’d taught me that beauty was only skin deep. The same person who proved angels could be just as deceitful if given the perfect setting.
She looked every bit the lethal million-dollar hooker that she was while two devoted mindless idiots danced to her tune. As quickly as my heart accelerated at the sight of her, it nosedived at the same speedy rate, souring at the realization of what had come of the woman who had once been pure and angelic.
Scrutinizing her with indescribable contempt, the angelic façade evaporated. This woman was every bit of a seductress, openly wanton, and oozing sex with everything she did. From the teasing smiles to the suggestive way she batted of her lashes, from the sway of her hips to the strategic way she pressed her chest forward … Yes, this was a siren I hadn’t met before.
I could hear Phoenix telling me to leave, but nothing he said registered. Cara was discreetly tucked in the very last booth, w
ithout her friends in sight as she happily danced with two men—twins, apparently, based on what I could see from across the room. The dimmed surroundings and the colorful lights from the stage didn’t hinder my sight.
“She’s … uh … brought two college guys with her,” Phoenix stated as he lit a cigarette. “Good girl gone bad—very bad.”
“Guess she got tired of hiding the whore within her.” The bitterness in my voice was damning.
“I dig it. Girl’s gotta learn how to have fun sooner or later.”
He was applauding Cara’s indiscreet affair with Juan Torres? “Fuck off, man. Who’s side are you on?”
“No one, fucker! Now, get your ass out of here before she sees you. You two crazies are better off.”
I shrugged just as my phone vibrated in my pocket. Pulling it out, I saw Petra’s name flashing on the screen.
“That’s God telling you to get the fuck out, man!” he chuckled as he pointed at my phone. “Go. Call me if you change your mind about throwing a party on Monday. It’s your birthday, dude. But if not, I’ll see you Tuesday when we head out again.”
I was unamused, but he was right. I should get going … “No parties. I’m good. See you Tuesday, then.” I managed a decent smile before lightly punching him in the arm. “Tell Kells I said hi.”
He quickly nodded before disappearing into the crowd, heading toward the other side of the room, where I guessed the rest of Anton’s party was at. A part of me wanted to drop by and greet the birthday boy, but I figured it was best to leave the past in the past. They weren’t my crowd anymore. They were Cara’s.
Shrugging, I pressed my lips together as I headed toward the exit.
Don’t look, I muttered under my breath, willing myself not to cock my head in her direction. But the devil was out to fuck with me tonight. My peripheral vision instantly found her, strutting away from the booth, heading toward the women’s as she cheerfully shooed the pussy boys away.
My head pounded as I unconsciously followed her wake. She confidently strutted toward the long, dimly lit corridor before disappearing behind the revolving bathroom door.
What the fuck am I doing? The question circled my mind, but I couldn’t move. My eyes were glued to the damn door. I was wired with anticipation, jitters, and everything in between. There was no doubt my actions were ruled not by my brain but something else entirely—something out of my control. I was possessed by this profound irrational urge to throw caution away and simply confront the reason for my barren existence.
Do I really want to confront her?
What are you doing, you idiot?
Move!
I did move. But instead of retreating, my hand slipped into my back pocket, pulling out a cigarette. I socially smoked or when under stress, and given my present situation, I had to focus on other things instead of paying mind to my rational side, screaming at me to walk the fuck back.
Maybe it was the way she was dressed or the way she welcomed those pussy boys’ advances that made it impossible to heed the warning bells ringing in the back of my brain. The fucked-up part of me was all too curious about this new version of Cara, and in the most twisted way, I wanted to meet her firsthand.
Who knows, maybe I’d really lost my shit, but oh, well … I guess I’d dwell on regrets later.
For now, there was nothing in this world that would stop me from pushing the contempt between us to the extreme. I guess it was my way of sprinkling some of the sparkling bullshit she’d put me through these past months.
Whatever it was, my fate was decided. I had to see her, up-close and fucking personal.
Causally leaning against the matte painted black wall, I lazily placed the cigarette in between my lips, lighting it up. Without rushing, I took my time drawing into the cancer stick, savoring it with gusto while loving the sweet burn it brought to my lungs as I steadfastly watched the door like a hawk.
The club’s band began to play “Closer” by Nine Inch Nails, wickedly making me snicker. The sinfully sexy song fit when it came to Cara and me … and just before the sinful song got to the chorus, the black-latex vixen emerged from the door, confidently strutting down the long corridor.
With each step she made, her ample tits bounced. Those suckers were barely contained in that damn micro dress she wore. There was a trace of a smile on her lips, as if recalling something pleasant, before she finally looked up and found my dark deadly gaze pinning her with a glacial stare.
Her confident steps came to a screeching halt. The hint of a smile was eradicated from her anxious face.
I let the pin drop … oh … so … slowly.
The panic written on her face was priceless.
I still affected her, someway, somehow. Be it a bad thing, I could still rouse something out of her. Knowing this pleased me to no end.
My eyes never left hers while I continued to smoke the rest of my cigarette unhurriedly, as if seeing her again didn’t fucking bother me at all. I nonchalantly gazed at her, as if bored, as if she was the most unappealing thing I’d seen all my life. Obviously, I was none of those things, but hey, we were professional actors. Keeping cool meant everything in our business, and tonight, I meant business.
“Stop that!” she furiously hissed, completely losing her composure while she eyed me incredulously.
There was a tiny hint of a tremor in her voice, giving me a glimpse of her present state—she felt attacked and quite unsure of how to proceed.
It was a good thing to be cautious. Given my shifty mood as of late, it’d be hard to guess where this static-like atmosphere could lead us. In my book, all options were on the table. Literally.
I contemplated if I should say something to break the ice, but I figured I’d let her stew some more. She deserved just a little more taste of my hatred. My asshole attitude didn’t thaw an inch as I kept smoking while drilling my eyes into her dark ones.
There was no doubt in my mind that Cara was going to crack soon. She teetered toward it. All I had to do was wait for my ingenious plan to take effect. The signs were there. It felt like old times—nostalgic, even. I knew how this woman had ticked once upon a time, and even though she might’ve veered past redemption, there were some things that remained the same … her fiery temperament, for one. I could always count on it to give me leverage.
It was all a game, wasn’t it? It was all about winning in the end.
“You stupid fuck!” she growled before she rapidly advanced toward me like a possessed heathen. Her dark eyes shot daggers at me before she maniacally yanked my smoke away and chucked it on the ground. Her black stiletto furiously stomped on the cancer stick, killing it dead cold. Piercing dark eyes tried to flay me while she sizzled in her fury. “Why are you stalking me?” she roared into my face.
Her temper was so predictable. At least that bit hadn’t changed, I silently mused as I blankly stared at her, impassive.
I didn’t blink. I didn’t flinch. My eyes remained glued to her feral ones, taking in every inch of change in her, every quelled emotion slowly surfacing on that beautiful face I had memorized since childhood.
“Leave me alone!” she continued her shrieking. “You made this choice. Stay out of my lane, and I’ll continue staying out of yours. D’you hear me?”
I made this choice? Did she have a memory lapse? Wasn’t she the one who let some cheesy fucker take something that wasn’t hers to give? My once controlled anger began to boil. How dare she put this on me! How. Dare. She!!!
Shooting her a venomous gaze, I looked down on the undeserving wench as my chest burned. “You look every bit the grieving girlfriend I expected you to be,” I said with a clipped tone. The veins on my neck strained while I battled to rein in my rage. “What’s your going rate these days?” My eyes for the first time dropped to her generous cleavage before the tip of my tongue snaked out of my mouth, grazing my bottom lip while I pictured her naked body. “You’re even more fuckable now than before …” My words declared war. Hidden underneath those scornful re
marks was pure, unmitigated lust.
I still wanted her, even after all she had put me through, goddamn it.
Cara took in a sharp breath, speechless for a moment as our eyes clashed. The all-consuming hate reflecting in her eyes remained, but there was hesitation there, too.
Was she tempted to take my offer?
Um …
FUCK.
I hadn’t expected that … so much so that it left me rattled.
“This is a trap. You’re doing this to see how much you can hurt me,” she stated. “I’m done playing your games. I’m just done with it all.” However, she didn’t withdraw, nor did she take a step away from me.
Was she playing hard to get? I didn’t care. I was ready to play hard, harder if she so wished it.
When I closed the gap between our faces, the tip of our noses touched. Every atom in my body yearned to taste those lips, even for a second. I wondered if she tasted as delicious as she once had. But I knew, once I gave in to her tactics, she’d take me for a spin again. The risk was too fucking high. And as much as I wanted to get lost in lust, the best way to come out of this unscathed and unaffected was to harness my emotions and reactions. If we were going to play, we played on my terms. Mine and mine alone.
“Do you want to test that theory?” I cast the bait.
Her eyes glinted. “I want to test yours.”
God, she was so fucking hot. I could hardly think straight. She smelled intoxicating. She smelled of sex, passion, and fire. My mouth watered. “Elaborate,” I said breathlessly.
“Oh, I will.” Her eyes dropped to my lips before a wicked smile formed on hers. “In an hour … if you’re still game for it.”
In an hour? Where? If she simply was going to mess with my head with no sex involved, I wasn’t interested. That was all she was good for. So, if that wasn’t in the cards tonight, I’d rather not waste my time. “Don’t fuck with me, Cara.”
She let out a husky laugh that made my cock harder than it already was. “Wasn’t that the idea?”
Fuck, she was so gorgeous I was momentarily rendered speechless. Was it wise to even test my resolve? I wasn’t so sure any longer. When it came to Cara, it was hard to think straight.
