Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 78850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Purple and red lasers zoom across the club, smoke fills the air, and the loud beat of Drake makes my head pound.
“Drinks?” Danny yells as I turn away from his breath. He smells like an ashtray.
Perfect.
“Yes, we want drinks,” Cher screams over the music.
Ignoring them, I look around. As always, it’s packed. The red and black walls, along with tiny lights that look like candles in the large chandelier remind me of a haunted house, making me wonder why everyone deems this the club to be at.
“Let’s dance.” Cher grabs my hand, dragging me onto the dance floor right next to the speakers. It’s loud, and a large disco ball casts down hundreds of bursts of colored lights as it spins.
“I told you to talk, Raven.” She spins as I lift my hands to the beat.
“Like I can have a conversation in here,” I shout back, then turn away, letting the tequila and music take over.
I love to dance. One of my big regrets was quitting my jazz classes when I went to college, but as soon as I moved to New York, I guess I got intimidated, which is silly now that I look back on it.
Cher says something, but Nicki Minaj’s “Super Freaky Girl” is so loud, I can’t hear. That, and the crowd on the dance floor seems to have multiplied.
Danny and Matteo show up with the shots after dodging hands and bodies to reach us.
“Shoot them quick. We don’t want to get thrown out,” Danny yells as he hands me mine, while Matteo gives Cher hers.
“Salud.” We toss them back like its water and not the tequila that’s burning fire down my esophagus.
“Yes, I like this,” Danny says as his hands go to my hips, trying to match my grind. He’s a bad dancer, but what guy isn’t? I spin away from him, rubbing my back against Cher’s. Turning, she laughs and grabs me as we both match the beat.
“That’s it, my beauties,” Matteo yells, leaning in close to our faces. “Now, who wants to feel really good?”
“We do,” Cher screams.
Matteo smiles and winks, motioning for us to follow him.
“I told you we were gonna have fun tonight.” She grabs my hand, her face flushed with excitement. “They have cocaine. Fuck yes, let’s go.”
I let her pull me because for the first time in my life, I don’t care. God, maybe it will make me feel better. There has to be a reason people love it. I just want something, anything, to numb my pain.
We weave around the crowded dance floor, following Matteo and Danny toward a back room.
My eyes take in the dark club. It has to be close to capacity. Either that, or they don’t care. Some guy plants his hands on my ass, then gives me a halfhearted apology. I glare at him, yet looking past him, I freeze. My whole body grows cold, then instantly breaks into a sweat. Gulping air, I try to catch my breath.
“Oh my God.” I try pulling away. “Move,” I scream at the assholes who just blocked my view.
“What?” Cher turns to glance down at me while I frantically try to move around the group to look for him.
“Jett’s here, over there.” I point to the dark corner.
“Where?” Cher stands on her tiptoes.
“He’s there,” I scream, my pulse pounding so hard I truly might hyperventilate.
“That’s not him,” she says dryly, grabbing my arm while Danny yells for us.
“Stop, it is.” At last able to maneuver around the group, I look at the corner, but she’s right. The man standing there may have dark hair, but he’s definitely not Jett.
“Wait. I swear to God, he’s here.” My eyes dart around, but there are too many bodies.
Cher looks as well, then shrugs. “Raven, I don’t see him, and I hate to have to tough love you, but he’s marrying your mother, not chasing after you,” she shouts over the noise.
My eyes instantly fill with tears.
“Oh no, don’t cry. I was only trying to snap you out of it. Please, Raven, don’t go all dark tonight, come on.” She grabs my hand, but I shake my head.
My mind is racing. Maybe I’ve seriously snapped, like lost it. Why do I keep feeling like he’s here? Am I that desperate?
“I have to get out of here,” I yell and jerk away from Cher. “I can’t breathe. He was here. He has to be here. Otherwise, I’m officially losing it.”
Cher looks at me, knitting her brows. “Okay, take it easy. Let me tell them we’re going.” She rubs my arm, frowning at how sweaty I am.
“I need to go outside.” I try gulping in a good breath, but I think that’s just making the panic worse with all the smoke.
“Screw it, I’ll text them. We can go to their dad’s pool tomorrow. He owns a hotel.”