Mia signs something to her sister and Maya sighs deeply. “I’m not apologizing. If you look her name up, Nika is really a nickname and she is actually short. Not my fault she doesn’t have my sublime legs.”
Mia stares at Annika and signs.
“Nope.” Annika lifts a hand. “Not hearing your apology. Take your clone and leave. Also, you’ll only marry my brother over my dead body, Maya. I swear to Tchaikovsky.”
Maya grins. “R.I.P. then, midget.”
“You little—” Annika lunges at her again and Maya only makes a face as Mia tries to singlehandedly break up the fight, signing with intense energy.
In the middle of the whole show, the person who caused this, Jeremy, remains in the same relaxed position against his bike.
Still staring at me in that unnerving, chill-inducing way.
I break eye contact before I’m roped into whatever trap he’s laying for me.
For some reason, I always feel like he’s plotting chaos or scheming against me.
As if he wants to prove a point by making sure I know that he doesn’t care. That no matter how much I learn about him, it’ll all be for nothing.
That I shouldn’t trust him, like he told me.
Well, I’m just not going to let that happen without some form of resistance.
I tell Annika I’m going to the shelter, but she’s too busy verbally sparring with Maya to hear me.
Still, I turn around and leave, feeling awkward at first, then I lift my chin and try to look normal while carrying a fluffy bag and a glittery cup that don’t fit with my jeans, shirt, and backpack.
Finally, about five minutes later, Annika catches up to me and I can be rid of her super girly belongings.
“That bitch.” She breathes heavily, then takes an aggressive drink of her juice as she falls in step with me. “Can you believe that she said she won’t only marry Jeremy but she’ll also make me a maid of honor? The audacity, the nerve, the gumption!”
“Calm down, Anni.” I stroke her shoulder. “You don’t usually get into fights.”
She’s somewhat of a people pleaser. The type who doesn’t want anyone around her to feel uncomfortable—or she was before Creigh started purging those traits out of her.
“Maya is the exception. She’s a super diva bitch who thinks everyone is beneath her.”
“Her sister looked nice.”
“Mia is anything but nice, but she’s not a clingy, condescending bitch like her sister. I swear Maya has gotten worse ever since she set her sights on my brother.”
An ache blossoms in my chest and I hate the feeling, or how much I want it to go away but can’t do anything about it.
“Are they…” I clear my throat when I’m about to choke on my words. “Are she and Jeremy engaged or set to be engaged?”
“She wishes.” Annika punches the air. “Maya started this agenda on her own last year and has been actively trying to make it real.”
“Maybe Jeremy agrees, or she wouldn’t have been this persistent.”
“Like hell he does. He really just talks to her and Mia because they’re Nikolai’s sisters. She’s the delusional one who acts like he he’s her nonexistent fiancé sometimes. Ugh. I hate her guts and I’m so going to tell Nikolai so he’ll keep her in line.”
I slide my finger on the side of my nose. “What if Jeremy wants to marry her?”
“Don’t jinx it. No, he doesn’t.”
“He didn’t look bothered just now.”
“Oh, please. That’s his standard expression, but what if…” Her face pales and she comes to an abrupt halt. “What if he actually agrees if our parents arrange the marriage? She’s Russian!”
I pat Annika’s shoulder even as mine goes rigid.
“No, no,” she says, not seeming to believe her own words. “I’m the one jinxing it now. There’s no way that would happen.”
My friend spends the rest of the walk to the shelter convincing herself that it’s all a play of her imagination and cursing Maya for calling her Nika and a midget.
Me?
I just get lost in my own head as I go over the stock of pet food.
On one hand, I shouldn’t feel this way for someone I’m not even dating.
On the other, I hate that I can’t stop.
But what I hate even more is that I care.
Maybe this wouldn’t have made a difference a week ago, but after that night he and I talked, I stupidly thought we shared something more than twisted kinks and savage sex.
But maybe that was wishful thinking on my part.
Maybe, as he said, I should neither trust him nor find him safe.
Because he’s using me as much as I’m using him, and that’s it.
I’m dejected the whole day, despite my attempts to cheer myself up and even chatting with my parents for over thirty minutes.
The thought of going to the cottage and deepening this feeling of nausea doesn’t sit right with me.
You know what? I’m not going.
It’s not mandatory or anything.
So I snuggle in bed with a book, ready to spend a peaceful night.
Now, if I could actually enjoy what I’m reading or focus on it, that would be great.
My door flings open and Ava stands there wearing a killer pink dress and bold red lips and stilettos. “Guess who got us tickets to a VIP lounge?”
I flip a page. “I’m busy.”
“Bitch, please. With what?”
“Reading.”
“You actually developed a habit of doing that upside down?”
It’s then I realize I’m holding the book the wrong way. With a deep sigh, I close it and place it on my lap.
“I’m not in the mood, Ava. Take Glyn or Anni.”
“Both are with their boyfriends. Besides, I want my Cecy with me.”
I snicker.
She grins, reaches me in a few steps, and grabs my shoulder. “Come on, it’ll be so much fun.”
“My and your idea of fun are so different.”
“Pretty please. I’ll owe you a week of Netflix and chill.”
I stay silent.
“Come on, that’s like your kink.”
My kink is something entirely different. But I nod because I’m not going to let her go alone, and maybe a change of scenery is everything I need tonight.
“Yes!! Let’s get you into something pretty.”
“What’s wrong with my jeans?”
“Hell no. You can’t go there in jeans, Cecy. They won’t let you in.”
“Fine. But nothing over the top.”
She squeals. “Let me go pick you something real quick.”
Her ‘real quick’ will take at least an hour.
Shaking my head, I slip out of bed after she’s gone and pause when my phone vibrates on the side table.
Jeremy: What do you want for dinner?
I narrow my eyes to make sure this is in fact a real text. The nerve of this prick to send me this after what happened today. He’s not even going to address it?
But fine. If he wants to play this game, then it’s on.
Cecily:I’m going out with friends and I won’t be coming tonight. So you can have whatever dinner you want.
Jeremy: Come over after you’re done.
Cecily: No.
Jeremy:I wasn’t asking, Cecily.
Cecily:And I wasn’t stuttering, Jeremy. I’m having a night off.
Then I turn off my phone, my blood boiling.
Screw that arsehole. It’s time he gets a taste of his own medicine.
CECILY
It’s been twenty minutes since we arrived at this VIP club and I’m already regretting letting Ava drag me into this.
I swear she’s a magnet for trouble and has been screwing herself, and me, in retrospect, ever since we were children.
She often comes up with ideas for fun, which always include breaking some rule, like staying out after curfew and treading into prohibited places.
And we often get caught. Papa’s always disappointed that I’ve done something like that, while Aunt Silver and Mum give us an earful. Ava pretends to understand and reflect on her actions, but soon after, she goes back to her rule-breaking habit.
But despite that, she never lets the blame fall on me and will say things like, “I’m sorry, Aunt Kim, for corrupting your daughter, but please don’t take her away from me.”
It was only after we grew up that I realized Ava does this to satiate a hungry beast inside her. She’s not doing it for attention like many others, since she tries her hardest not to get caught. She’s doing it for herself.
As if trying to feel alive.
The reason she drags me along every time is for a sense of safety, because she knows I have her back.
Also, she really believes I’m wasting away my youth by not taking part in all the parties and adrenaline-filled activities.
But no matter how many clubs she drags me to, I still can’t get used to the feeling of being swarmed by so many people and so much noise.
This club in particular is crowded with enough humans to populate a continent. Not really, but that’s how it feels.
Blue and violet lights cover the dome structure of the ceiling like laser beams as a trendy DJ plays one hit song after another.
Bodies wiggle, shake, and slither like snakes all over each other. The stench of strong perfumes, sweat, and musk mix together and suffocate my breathing.
Everything does. The loud music, the vibration of the floor beneath us, the shouting, hollering, dancing, and more dancing.
It’s an absolute sensory overload that makes me want to hide in a corner.
But I can’t, because Ava just had her third shot. I pull the fourth from her fingers and yell, “That’s enough!”
“Don’t be a killjoy!” She tries to fight me for her shot and I keep it out of reach.
But Ava is a bit taller than me, so she manages to grab hold of it. In a swift move, I snatch the shot back and down it, wincing at the strong burn, and she grins, then taps the counter for more.
“Ava!” I reprimand. “I can’t carry you on my own if you pass out from too much drinking.”
“Relax, I’m not going to reach that state—” she interrupts herself when the beat drops. “Woohoo! I love this song!”
Once the shots arrive, she sneakily throws one back and grabs my hand. “Let’s dance!”
“No!”
“Come on, Cecy. You look hot. May I have this dance?”
“No.”
She makes a face, but then she pushes through the crowd, swaying her hips and shaking in sync with the music.
I lean against the counter so I can have a clear view of her. My tight dress hunches up with the movement and I shove it back down so that it reaches my middle thigh.
Since Ava doesn’t get a lot of chances to play dress-up with me, she put me in this black dress with spaghetti straps that molds against my body.
Her first choice was a backless red one, but that was a hell no.
And heels. We can’t forget the heels that are currently murdering my feet.
But what makes me really uncomfortable is the fact that I’m wearing a dress. They used to be my preferred style when I was young since they made me feel like a princess.
But I almost never wear them ever since that night I was drugged in one and he ripped it off me so easily.
I slide sideways to get a better view of Ava, who’s dancing, shaking her arse, and attracting a group of guys.
As they start approaching her, I push through the crowd and wrap an arm around her waist.
“You came!” She grabs me by the shoulder and makes me twirl. “You’re dancing!”
“No, I’m not. Let’s get out of here.” I discreetly motion to the side. “Some wankers have been eyeing you.”
“Looking is free. Touching is not.” She puts both her hands on my waist and makes me sway to the music with her.
All my attention remains on those guys and some sleazy older man who’s watching us and licking his lips.
Gross.
My best friend is completely oblivious to them or the looks we get as she brings on her dancing A game.
“Relax, Cecy!” she tells me. “Can’t you turn off your brain for a second?”
I wish I could.
But I saw a bunch of people buying drugs in the corners. And that sleazy man just touched his junk while watching us.
There’s no way in hell I’ll be able to turn my brain off after witnessing some of these scenes. Even I realize that becoming overly suspicious and careful is a translation of my trauma.
The world isn’t a safe place.
And while I want to get out of here, I can’t just leave Ava alone. Those arseholes will probably pounce on her—not that they wouldn’t while I’m here, but I can at least try to save her.
The guys reach us first. All three are tall, well-dressed, and look like university kids. Probably a year older than me.
One of them, a curly-haired brunet, slides behind Ava, dancing to the same rhythm as her without touching her, and the two others, one a blond and the other with black hair, surround me.