by Hazel Parker
Warren stepped closer and mimicked Gus, crossing his arms over his chest. “So the question is, are you distracted?”
I answered without hesitation. “No.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
Gus shook his head. “I’m not buying it. That little story you told was the most I’ve ever heard you say in a day, let alone in one sitting, and you didn’t talk about the girls. You only mentioned one.”
“I’m not distracted.”
“So what happened after you took the girl home? Why didn’t you circle back and burn down the club?” Warren asked.
I’d expected this question, but I wasn’t going to answer him. I had a habit of speaking when I wanted to and Gus was right, I’d already said too much.
“Sounds like you took her home and then fell into some pussy instead of doing what I asked. Is that it?” Gus asked.
President or not, the topic of Jenny was off the table. “I’m. Not. Distracted.”
That was all that mattered. I could still carry out the mission. I would do whatever it took to get into this club, be a part of this family and prove I deserved to be one of the brothers.
“Hmm.” Gus rubbed his scraggly beard.
“Are you sure?” Warren asked again.
“Positive.”
“Then we’ll take it to vote,” Gus said, standing. “It needs to be unanimous. If everyone says yes, you get a second chance.”
“And if they don’t,” Warren said, answering my mental question, “you can bring your cut back tonight.”
“Chapel!” Gus said, announcing all the brothers needed to be around the table for a vote.
I had no idea what Gus would say. I couldn’t be sure if he’d tell the full story or a partial one. There were no secrets between brothers, but I was a prospect. They might choose to ignore the details and home in on the fact that I was supposed to do something, and I didn’t.
What I would do if I got the boot. They had to give me a second chance. I couldn’t give back my vest. It only had the prospect patch on it and I loved it already. That vest had taken me places. What would I do without the club? They’d been my life for the last year and a half. I’d worked my ass off for them and I would gladly do more. If they didn’t all vote yes, I would have to convince them somehow.
I sat there trying to think of ways to convince anyone who said no while also hoping and praying that my work spoke for itself. I’d worked my fingers to the bone for every member and future brother. They wouldn’t kick me out over one mistake. Would they? No. They wouldn’t. I had to believe that because there was no alternative. I steadied myself and stood up straighter.
“A Donovan never stumbles.” That was what my dad used to say. He’d said we were a strong family. Full of iron, steel, bravery, and the kind of spirit that won’t die. My dad had been an awful father and a worse husband. I’d prayed and wished he would die for years for the things he used to do to my mother. Still, I took his words to heart. And I had stumbled. That much I knew and I was willing to do what I needed to do to make it right.
The meeting door opened and Gus nodded at me from the table.
“One last chance,” Warren said as the crowd of brothers dispersed from the room without speaking to me. “Don’t let me down. I vouched for you.”
I let out a breath I hadn’t known I’d been holding. “I swear, brother. That club will burn tonight. Nothing will get in my way this time.”
Chapter 10
Jenny
Sunday mornings were reserved for sleep and, knowing that fact, Jo and I didn’t want to wake the sleeping princess to ask if we could borrow her car. So we caught the bus to campus and walked to the art workroom.
I felt more inspired than I had in a very long time. I’d spent the entire ride with colors erupting in my head and Jo, sensing this, kept quiet for the duration of the ride. It was one thing to sketch at home, but what I was feeling needed all the art supplies I could have and the space of the art room to make a mess.
The room was blessedly quiet and empty. I liked working with headphones and Prince crooning in my ear as my hands moved on their own accord. The canvas was the size of the top side of a desk, bigger than my head and too big to carry. I primed it with white paint before going in with color.
Time flew and my hands were a blur as I covered the canvas like a possessed woman. When my hand moved over the canvas, it was almost like my mind was directing my hand without me; odd perhaps, but that was the way it was. The brush moved instinctively to the right spot, building a new picture, often one I had never seen before.
I forgot about everything—about eating, about going out of my comfort zone, about Jo, until she touched my arm, causing me to jump.
“I’m sorry. Did I scare you?” she asked, holding my arm.
“Yeah,” I said, clutching my chest and pulling my headphones from my ears.
“I’ve been calling your name.”
“Oh. Sorry. I couldn’t hear a thing,” I shrugged and stretched my arms.
Pulled from my trance, I felt the fatigue in my muscles and how stiff I was from standing in the same position.
“I could tell. You were in the zone.”
“Yeah.” I smiled, stepping back from the painting. “I was.”
It was still unfinished, but there were solid lines and a clear image coming from the colors. I’d zoomed in so there was nothing but his face, tense with brows creased. His Roman-arched nose gave more distinction and chisel edges to his already cut face with his brown stubble and full bottom lip. There was no need for his body when his face was this captivating.
Jo stood next to me, staring at my work.
“I’d say you’re about half way,” she commented, turning to me.
“Yeah,” I agreed, still unable to pull my eyes away from the canvas. “I’d say so.”
“It looks like you found your inspiration.”
She wasn’t asking. It was clear that I had.
I could see amongst the bright reds and oranges that the eyes were so brown they seemed black, pulling me into their depths. It was the man who saved me the night before. Solomon.
He’d inspired my muse to come back and now thoughts of him invaded my mind. I couldn’t forget his kiss, those lips, the way he felt against my body, and the way he said my name… I couldn’t stop thinking about him and the way he made me feel—sexy, hot, bothered, and stupid for not getting his phone number.
I took a step to the side to look at Jo’s painting. My eyes moved from place to place, unable to decide what the focus of the painting was.
Jo’s expertise was watercolor painting, and she challenged herself to work with acrylic paint and to be abstract. If there was anyone who struggled to see things abstractly, it was Jo. She was very black and white with her art. All her lines were precise and thick; she didn’t believe in minimalism. All the colors she used were vivid, almost to the point of garish. The stroke lines were almost nonexistent. The colors made the image instead of the lines. It was both stunning and headache inducing.
“You’re really stepping out of your comfort zone,” I commented as she sat watching the canvas with her hands crossed over her chest.
“Yeah. It’s almost scary.”
“Know where you’re going with it?”
“I don’t. But isn’t that the point of abstract art?” she joked and I stuck my tongue out at her.
Glancing at the clock on the corner, I realized three hours had passed. “Wow. Is that the time?”
“Yeah. That’s why I was calling you. I’m hungry.”
“Okay then. Let me clean this stuff up and we can go eat.”
It wasn’t too hard cleaning and we left our unfinished works in our individual work spaces ready to work on them on Tuesday. Sarah called just as we were walking to the only place open on campus—the cafeteria.
“Where you guys at?”
“Campus.”
“Boo. It's Sunday, girl. You’re not supposed to be at sch
ool.”
I shook my head. “We were feeling inspired.”
“Were you?” she said with a sly voice. “I bet you were. Where did you run off to last night, girl? One minute you were on the dance floor dancing with a little cutie and the next you were gone.”
I wanted to tell her the truth. I wanted to tell Jo who was my best friend after all, but I couldn’t bring myself to say it aloud. If I said it, it would be real. I was assaulted. Somehow, I knew I wasn’t ready to accept that truth. Nothing they could say would change the fact that it had happened. Nothing they could say would erase the horrific memory. Only the beautiful ending with Solomon could do that.
“Well?” Sarah said, huffing. “Don’t leave me hanging. Come on, girl. I know you got a story to tell! Give up the deets! I want all the juicy details.”
“Okay,” I said, pretending I would spill all. “I met a man.”
She squealed into the phone so loud I had to pull it away from my face. “I knew it!”
There was so much she didn’t know, though.
“Tell me more! Go on.”
“His name is Solomon.”
“Sounds sexy,” she purred.
He was, but I wouldn’t be telling her that.
“Hello?”
“Yes?” I asked, talking into the phone.
“I asked if he was sexy.”
“What do you think?” I said, ready to move on. “Anyways, tell me about you because somebody was supposed to get me a drink but never returned.”
She giggled like she wasn’t at fault and like I was somehow joking instead of being serious. What kind of friend left to get drinks and never returned? The answer was… a bad one.
“Well, I met Alex.”
“Who the hell is Alex?”
“Just a friend I made,” she said. I could tell from her tone she was deliriously happy and twirling her hair around her finger on the other side of the phone.
“Well, I certainly hope Alex was worth leaving a friend behind.”
“I didn’t leave. You did,” she said calmly. “Plus, Alex is a good guy. I think you will like him. In fact, I’m going to hang out with him tomorrow. He works at Blue Nights. He said he’s going to take me upstairs to the VIP when I go.”
Jesus freaking Christ. Of all the terrible things to do, that was number one on my list. Could I tell her not to go? I needed to tell her not to go. I knew what was in the VIP section and it had nothing to do with very important persons.
“Sarah, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Oh? And why’s that, mom?” she asked.
“Because…” I couldn’t tell her the truth. Could I? “Because nobody finds love in clubs.”
She scoffed. “Oh, come off it. Ain’t nobody looking for love in the club. I’m going to Blue Nights.”
“No, Sarah. That’s not it. It’s that the Blue Nights isn’t safe.”
Jo arched her eyebrow in curiosity.
“Right,” Sarah said in disbelief.
“No. It’s true, Sarah. Upstairs isn’t for VIP. It’s where they run some kind of sex ring.”
She chuckled without amusement. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“I’m not lying. When I was there, some guy snatched me, dragged me upstairs, and tried to tie me to the bed. He swore that he would rape me and more men would follow.”
“Oh my God! Do you really expect me to believe that?”
“Yes. I do.”
“You’re just jealous.”
“Of what?
“You don’t want me to go back and have a good time without you. Just because you’re turning into a little wallflower like your bestie, Jo, it doesn’t mean you get to change me too.”
“Sarah, I am not jealous and I am not lying. That place is not good news.”
“You are lying. Why didn’t you tell me the truth in the first place then? Huh? Because you’re making it up. You don’t have to lie, Jen. You don’t have to lie. If you are that set on me not having a good time, maybe we’re not the friends I thought we were.”
“Sarah, I swear, on my mother’s grave, I am not lying to you. I was attacked at Blue Nights. Please, you have to believe me. I can’t stand the idea of you going there. You could get hurt. Please, Sarah, please. Do not go back there.”
“You promise you’re not lying?”
“Yes. I’m not.”
“Okay. I won’t go.”
“I’m serious, Sarah. You can’t go there.”
“All right,” she said, convinced a little too easily. “I won’t go.”
“Good.”
“Well, I’ll see you all later.”
“Yeah,” I said, not sure I believe she wouldn’t go.
Knowing Sarah, she would probably go again there anyway.
“Is everything all right?” Jo asked.
“Typical insanity that is Sarah,” I said, clearing the table and stacking our trays. We put them on the conveyor belt and walked out.
“She’s hell bent on doing something dangerous.”
“So? When isn’t she doing something she shouldn’t? Let her.”
“Jo, we can’t just let Sarah make crazy decisions. She’s our friend.”
“Is that right?”
“You know it is,” I said, bumping shoulders with her.
She giggled. “Right. Fine. Well, have fun saving her.”
“You’re not coming?” I asked as we climbed the steps of the bus.
She scoffed. “Nope. I’m not the saving type.”
I laughed and shook my head. On one hand, I did not want to go back to that awful place, but on the other hand, I just might see Solomon again.
“So,” Jo said, leaning against the window.
“So what?”
“I noticed your art is looking a little different.”
Little wasn’t the word, but either way, I couldn’t deny the truth. Solomon had changed me. He’d changed my art. He had only touched me once and yet I couldn’t get enough of him. I couldn’t get him out of my system. I wanted more. I needed more.
“It’s all thanks to Solomon,” I admitted.
“I saw him leave, you know. H-O-T, hot!” she exclaimed while fanning her face with her hands.
“Sorry I didn’t tell you about him sooner, Jo.”
Because, aside from the sex, there really wasn’t much to tell. Solomon remained a stranger.
Chapter 11
Jenny
We got back just as Sarah was finishing eating dinner. She leaned against the kitchen counter in tight sweatpants and a matching sports bra as if she’d worked out. Gauging by the fact that I’d never seen her workout before, her dry hair, her face that was clear of sweat and the pizza grease she was wiping from her face, I would say I was right.
“Hey, ladies. Pizza on me. I left you some,” she said over her shoulder as she walked past us to her room.
“Where are you going?” I asked, following her into her room, leaving Jo to get first dibs on whatever pizza Sarah had bought. “Don’t you want to eat with us?”
“I already ate,” she said, looking through the clothes hanging in her closet.
I obviously meant for her to keep us company, but it was clear that she wasn’t interested in doing that either.
“I see,” I said, leaning against the doorframe. I watched her slide outfits from one side to the other, determining which ones were worth considering and which weren’t good enough. “You’re still going out?”
“Yeah,” she said, holding dresses up in front of her and checking her reflection in the mirror.
I could have figured that out. Sarah wasn’t one to change her mind, and I still wasn’t sure if I’d convinced her just how dangerous Blue Nights really was. I couldn’t believe she wanted to go out anyway. Wasn’t she tired? I was… though I could attribute that more to the mind blowing sex I had instead of the dancing or stress of Blue Nights.
“Where to?”
She paused and crossed her arms over her chest. “Why do
you ask? So you can check that I’m not going to Blue Nights?”
Yes, but I wasn’t going to tell her that. “No. I was just asking about your plans. I’m being a good friend. Sheesh. I can’t ask you anything about your plans tonight without a fight, can I?”
“No,” she said, flipping her hair. “You can’t.”
She picked up a blue dress and hung the yellow one in the closet. In my opinion, the red dress she put back in the closet two dresses ago was the cutest of the choices, but she didn’t ask for my opinion. I was already giving unsolicited advice. I didn’t need to give any more.
“But since you asked, I’m not sure since we can’t go to Blue Nights.”
“I’m not trying to be controlling, Sarah. I’m just saying that I highly recommend you don’t go there. It’s not safe. I would hate myself if I hadn’t said anything and then something bad happened to you. We might not always get along, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about your safety."
“Uh-huh,” she said, pulling her bra over her head without any regard for nudity.
I’d seen Sarah enough times without clothes and it didn’t bother me.
“So are you still planning to go?”
“No,” she said, turning away from me as she pulled her pants off.
I could tell she was lying.
“Okay, seriously. Listen to me, Sarah. You cannot go there. It is not safe. I couldn’t make that story up if I tried. I did not want to leave you at the club, but I had to—I was rescued. The man I met on the dance floor attacked me. Jay attacked me then he tried to tie me to a bed. He tore my dress. I have no idea what would have happened to me if Solomon hadn’t saved me.”
“I still maintain that that sounds ridiculous. You probably just had too much to drink.”
“I could not have been drunk because the person who was supposed to bring me my drink never showed!” I took a breath and tried to calm myself.
Sarah pulled the yellow dress over her head and once it was in place, she shimmied her panties down her legs, opting to go without panties than her usual thong.
“I was sober, Sarah. I never had a drink that night. I was not drunk. So don’t blame what I said on that. If you don’t believe me, just say so.”
