His expression is unreadable. “Like what?”
“Like you, I don’t know, know me or something.”
He rubs his lips together, looking at me with … pity, maybe?
Crap. He’s really hard to read.
“I’m sorry,” he finally says.
I narrow my eyes at him. “For what?”
“For upsetting you.”
“I’m not upset.” But I am. For being here. For having to be here. For being here with him.
For being here with him when he’s looking at me like he sees me.
“All right.” He pushes away from the wall. “You ready to head in?”
The shift in conversation gives me whiplash, and I nod without thinking. Then reality catches up with me the closer we get to the end of the hallway.
“So, have you dated a lot, then?” he asks loudly over the music. “I’m guessing so since you’re giving me advice.”
“Yeah, but nothing too serious.” My gaze remains fixed on the end of the hallway, on the flashing lights. “I just know the rules; that’s all.”
He gives me a sidelong glance. “The rules?”
“Yeah, the rules of dating.” When I cast a quick glance at him, I find him staring at me with a smile on his face and an amused glint in his pretty eyes. I frown, too aware of what that look means. “And FYI, I have no interest in following those rules because I have no interest in dating. Ever.” My tone radiates fear and anger.
His smile slightly falters, worry and pity flooding his eyes. “Wynter …” His soft tone and the way he’s looking at me makes the rope tug even tighter.
“I need a drink,” I announce, even though I don’t. Then I pick up the pace and jog down the rest of the length of the hallway.
Running away.
Always running away, just like Everette accused me of doing.
He’s observant, and I don’t like it. I don’t like how he sees me so easily.
It makes me fear what else he sees. If he sees how scared I am.
No, I’m not scared, I try to convince myself. But the moment I step foot into the room at the end of the hallway, a wave of fear washes over me and swallows me whole.
“Don’t fucking tell anyone.”
“We’re going to break you.”
“Tell your father that Travis says hello.”
“Tell anyone and I’ll fucking end you.”
Don’t tell.
Don’t tell.
Don’t tell.
“Are you scared yet?”
Tears prickle my eyes as I stare at the room before me, packed with people dancing, drinking, laughing, flirting. Music sounds around me, along with flashing lights and holograms, swallowing me whole. Cyborgs are wandering around, handing out electric blue shots that zap with light and some are even giving out lace masks. The same kind of masks cover at least half the people’s faces in the room. Everyone around me can see me if they want to, yet I can’t see who they are. They can see that I’m Wynter. See me. And I can’t see them.
My stomach clenches.
No, please don’t throw up here.
I try to fight back the urge, but as the stench of alcohol douses my nostrils, I make a beeline toward the restrooms sign. When I make it inside, I dive into a vacant stall and empty the contents of my stomach. My chest is aching, but my heart beats steadily as I sink to the floor and hug my legs to my chest.
What the hell was I thinking coming here? Maci probably won’t believe me anyway. And if Travis spots me, he’ll try to fuck with my mind. I’m not strong enough for this. I’m weak.
“You’re weak, Wynter,” he whispers in my hair as his chest lines over my back.
Tears sting my eyes as I try to shove him off, but my body is limp.
“Do you know how easy it was to lure you here?” he whispers. “Girls like you are so weak.”
Weak.
Weak.
Weak.
“Fuck!” I shout until my lungs ache. Then I collect myself off the floor, step out, and ignore the stares of the other women in the restroom.
I grab a mask lying on the glass counter near the steel sinks and strap it on, feeling a bit better that no one will recognize me now. Then I head out, preparing to do whatever it takes to get Maci away from Travis.
I’m not fucking weak.
You’re going to pay.
Even if I get hurt.
Even if they try to break me again.
I’m broken anyway, so there is nothing more they can do to me that they haven’t already done.
Chapter 6
When I exit the bathroom, I’m ready to track down Maci. That is, until I spot Everette talking to Travis. I hurry back into the bathroom, almost losing my shit.
Everette knows Travis? Are they friends?
I shake my head. No, that can’t be right. Travis would never be friends with a greystele. Then again, right now, I can barely tell Everette is a greystele.
Sucking in a breath, I peer out of the bathroom then breathe a sigh of relief when I spot Travis leaving and Everette leaning against a shimmering wall, the neon lighting above highlighting the worried look on his face.
Once Travis leaves, I stride out of the bathroom.
“So, you’re a Travis Marilellie groupie?” I say to Everette, startling him.
He eyes me over, and I start to wonder if he doesn’t recognize me with the mask, when he says, “No, Wynter, I’m not. Not even close.” He straightens his stance and steps toward me. “Are you okay?”
I shake my head, strands of hair falling into my eyes as I grimace. “Why does everyone keep asking me that?”
His brow arches as he gives me a pressing glance. “Maybe because you just ran off looking like you were about to vomit.”
“Well, I didn’t, and I’m fine.” I turn to leave and find Maci. “Thanks for helping me get in here. Have fun following Travis around like a little lovesick puppy.”
He captures my arm before I can bolt, and I nearly jolt out of my skin. “I’m not following Travis around. But I’m curious as to why you’d think that.”
“Because I overheard you talking to him,” I grit out, shivering from the cool feel of his fingers against my overly warm skin. “Or, should I say, swooning over him.”
He blinks, stunned. “Swooning? You thought I was swooning?”
I wrestle my arm away from his grip and clasp my hands together, going all dreamy eyed. “Oh, Travis, you should see the girl I’m with. She’s so hot. Maybe later I can introduce you to her, and you can fuck her senseless because she’s just a piece of property to me. And I’ll give you anything you want just as long as you’ll be besties with me.”
“Whoa.” He raises his hands in front of him, looking kind of pissed off. “That’s not what I fucking said at all.”
“It was close.” I cross my arms and stare him down. “And if you think I’m going to hang out and flirt with Travis just so you can become his BFF, you are so wrong. I’d rather cut off my left nipple than spend a second near that sexist, rich, douchebag of a prick.”
He inches toward me until the tips of his boots touch my shoes. “I wasn’t planning on you doing anything. He was the one who said I should introduce him to my girl. I never agreed. And if you were paying close enough attention, you’d know that.”
“Yeah, well … I’m not even your girl,” I stupidly snap, knowing I’m acting ridiculous right now, yet I can’t seem to calm the hell down. “And you still like him. That’s enough for me not to like you.”
We breathe heavily, standing so close I can feel his breath against my skin. My heart is pounding in my chest, for reasons I can’t even comprehend, but I blame it on my anger. Deep down though, I know it might be more than that. I’m just not willing to admit it yet.
When his gaze flicks to my lips, I decide it’s time to leave. But as I turn, his fingers circle my arm.
“I don’t even know Travis,” he whispers softly, as if I’m something fragile that’s about to shatter. “He just stopped and tal
ked to me for, like, two seconds. And to be polite, I talked to him.”
My chest tightens as I struggle to breathe, yet I don’t pull away from him. “You could’ve blown him off.”
“Why would I do that? I don’t even know him.”
“So, you always talk to every person you cross paths with?”
“Yeah, sort of. I mean, not always, but this time I did.”
I huff in frustration, mostly because I have a feeling he’s lying to me. Why I care is beyond me. I mean, I barely know him. It shouldn’t matter.
“Well, Mr. Chatty, it’s been a great pleasure talking to you, but it’s time for you to let me go.” I slip my arm from his hold, or try to anyway.
His grip tightens as a couple of loudmouthed guys dressed in vivid colors and wearing masks wander in our direction. When they notice me, they check me out and grins spread across their faces. My body begins to tremble, and I stop fighting trying to get away from Everette, remaining frozen until the guys stumble into the bathroom.
“I need to get out of here,” I mumble absentmindedly. “But I can’t leave yet.”
No, I need to find Maci. But how am I supposed to do that when I can barely stand being around Travis, or any strange guy in general? Not to mention he went into a room I’m pretty sure I don’t have access to.
“Why can’t you leave yet?” Everette asks softly.
I shrug, the pressure of the night building on my shoulders. “Because.”
“That sounds really vague.”
“Yeah, so? Why would I tell you? I barely know you.” My gaze collides with his as I turn around. “And, unlike you, I don’t just talk to random strangers to be polite.”
“Well, I don’t really think we’re random strangers anymore,” he teases “I mean, I usually consider a punch in the face as getting pretty acquainted with someone.”
I stare at him, refusing to smile, though I sort of want to. “So, what? You just go around punching people in the face to get to know them?”
He bites back a smile. “Yep. All the time. I didn’t do it to Travis, though, so that means we’re not acquaintances yet; therefore, you can’t be upset with me.”
I roll my eyes. “Are you always this overdramatic?”
He cocks a brow. “I’m the dramatic one?”
I glare at him, but the corners of my lips twitch. “I’m the most un-dramatic person I know.”
“Yeah, tell that to my poor cheek,” he teases with a smirk.
My gaze darts to his cheek, then I lower my head with a deafening exhale. “That wasn’t about being overdramatic. I just get jumpy sometimes, especially in dark parking lots, which isn’t that weird.”
“Were you sick?” he asks. “Is that why you took off to the bathroom.”
I swallow hard. “Yeah … I think I ate some bad chicken earlier.”
He assesses me closely. “You’re okay now, though, right?”
Why does he insist on making sure I’m okay? He barely knows me. It makes no sense at all.
“As okay as I ever am.” I rub my lips together, peering in the direction Travis disappeared to. An area marked: no entry without a silver pass, whatever the hell that is. I think about Maci being up there with Travis. How she may have a drink in her hand. A drink laced with a drug. How she could be stumbling around, dizzy and disoriented, and how he’ll eventually guide her someplace secluded where no one will hear her screams, just like he did to me. How I may not have a lot of time. “Everette … can I ask you for a favor?” God, I can’t believe I’m doing this, but he got me into the club, so maybe he can get me to where Maci is.
He wavers then nods. “Sure.”
I suck in a shaky breath, not wanting to say the words aloud, yet knowing I don’t have a choice. “There’s this girl here named Maci. She came here with Travis. I need to find a way to get her out of this club and away from him. I think she might be upstairs since that’s where Travis is, but I can’t go up there. I’m hoping you can.”
His expression remains blank, which is frustrating. “Why does this Maci need to leave?”
I nervously wet lips with my tongue. “Because Travis isn’t a good guy, no matter what this town thinks. And Maci shouldn’t be with him tonight.”
He swallows hard. “Is he going to hurt her?”
I take an unsteady breath, staring down at the end of the hallway. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Do you have any proof that he’s going to hurt her?”
I frown, my gaze skating to him. “No. But that doesn’t mean he won’t.”
He studies me closely, too closely. “Why do you think he’s going to hurt her?”
“You know what? Just forget I asked.” I spin around to leave, regretting asking him for help.
See, this is why I can’t trust anyone.
He snags ahold of the sleeve of my leather jacket. “Will you stop running off?” he says as he tows me back toward him. “And let me think for a minute.”
My gaze remains glued to the end of the hallway to hide the tears pooling my eyes.
Get your shit together, Wynter. Don’t cry. You’ll appear weak if you do. And you don’t want to be weak.
“Go out to your car and drive home,” he suddenly whispers. “I’ll see what I can do.”
I whirl around in shock. “You believe me?”
“Yeah, I do.” He releases my sleeve. “I’ll make sure Maci gets home safely, but you need to leave.”
Up until this point, I was relieved he’s going to help me. But that just sounds suspicious.
“Why?” I assess him warily. “What’re you going to do?”
He offers me a small, tense smile, then points toward the end of the hallway. “That’s for me to worry about. All you need to do is give me a description of Maci, her last name, and any other important details. Then go out to the car and go home.”
Just what is he going to do? Does it really matter? Just as long as Maci is safe for the night.
I stare at him for a heartbeat longer before nodding. “Maci looks a lot like me, only with longer hair. She is wearing a pink dress and these ridiculously high silver heels.”
“And her last name?”
“Princingten.”
He nods. “All right, go. I’ll figure it out.”
“Are you sure? I could stick around and help you—”
“Yes, I’m sure,” his firm tone cuts me off.
Normally, I’d sass back, but I’m too grateful at the moment to argue.
Instead, I nod. “Thank you.” I consider hugging him. The old Wynter would’ve done so … if he’d been a guy of course, and not a greystele. But just the idea of hugging anyone makes my stomach churn, so I simply pat his arm like an idiot, then turn around and leave, hoping upon hope that someone will finally come through for me.
Chapter 7
When I asked Everette to help me, I hit a level of desperation I wasn’t aware existed. I didn’t expect him to agree, yet he did.
I wish I could say that I fully trust him enough after that to not have to double-check on Maci and make sure she arrived home okay. But trust isn’t something I’m able to feel at this moment in my life.
Of course, when the club evacuates and Maci gets safely into a hover limo, I decide maybe Everette isn’t too terrible. But needing to be absolutely certain Maci is okay, I follow her home anyway. When she stumbles into her house, relief washes over me again, along with gratitude for Everette’s help.
He made good on his promise. He can’t be that bad.
Doesn’t mean I full-on trust him, though.
Trust. A small, simple word, yet so complicated. I have no desire to let that complicate my life.
After I leave Maci’s, I drive back to my place, activate the security system, and take a few hits of haze as I check my messages on my handheld. While I’ve been out today, it buzzed at least a dozen times. I’ve been too caught up on revenge to even check my messages. Once I play the messages, I feel awful.
Beck: “Hey, j
ust checking in on you. You seemed upset earlier today and I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
Beck: “Haven’t heard back from you. Message me.”
Willow: “Hey, want to hang out this weekend? We can even go shopping if you want.”
Luna: “Is your handheld powered off or something? Everyone’s been trying to get ahold of you.”
Beck: “I’m really starting to get worried. Everyone is. Even Everette messaged me to check on you. I didn’t even know you two knew each other. He’s a nice greystele, though.”
Everette messaged Beck about me? Uncertainty sweeps through me. Why? When?
Beck: “Come on, Wynter. Please just message us back. If you don’t, we’re going to have Ari track your handheld.”
Crap. The timestamp on the message is from a few hours ago. If Ari did track my handheld, which he easily could, my friends might have very well figured out where I was tonight.
I crinkle my nose. If they did find out, they’re going to overwhelm me with questions as to why I was hanging out at a club I’ve mocked on more than one occasion. Still, I don’t regret going. Maci made it home okay. Travis didn’t hurt her. At least tonight. She’s already planning on going out with him on Friday, which leaves me with only a couple days to figure out how to prove to her, without outing myself, that Travis is a monster.
Shucking off my jacket and kicking off my shoes, I dump them in the clothing dispenser then flop down in bed and open the encryption app on my handheld. Then I go to the scan from tonight. Sure enough, the list pops up. Unfortunately, I didn’t manage to scan any more files, though.
As I stare at the names on the list, anger burns under my skin. “What’s going on with this? Did the same thing happen to these girls as what happened to me and they banned us all from that club?”
That possibility makes my stomach twist, especially when I realize I recognize one of the names.
“Oh, my God … No …” Vomit lurches in the back of my throat, and I roll out of bed, bolting toward the bathroom to puke my guts out. Since I haven’t eaten anything since I emptied the contents of my stomach at the club, I end up dry heaving until my stomach muscles ache. At the rate I’m going, I may not be able to keep a meal down ever again.
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