Page 95 of Best Served Cold

16

ZANE

“It’s hot as balls back here.” Gray dropped into the chair next to me.

“Yeah.” I pushed my damp hair off my forehead. “Good set?”

He grinned and held up a fistful of bills. “You could say that.”

“Nice.”

“I think Noah’s in trouble.”

I snapped my gaze to my brother as he stepped in front of us, his eyes on his phone.

“What?” I asked sharply.

River squished next to me in my chair, wiggling until I shifted enough I was half on Gray’s chair and he could balance next to me.

“He texted me about five minutes ago.” He angled his phone so we could see it.

Noah: ever heard of a song called I wanna be your slave?

Noah: its good

Noah: 1 of u should dance to it

Noah: listen

A video followed.

“Did you watch it?” I asked as River pressed play.

“Yeah. I’m not sure if he even meant to send it.”

I focused on the video playing, trying to extract as much information as possible about whatever was happening.

Noah was in a club or bar of some sort, based on the dark atmosphere, flashing lights, and garbled music. The phone was facing the floor, and all we could see were a pair of giant shoes that were definitely his, and a pair of tiny heels with equally tiny feet in them.

“The hell?” I said, barely realizing I’d spoken out loud. Had he sent River a foot video? Was he into that?

Muffled voices were layered over the music, but it sounded like his thumb or something was over the microphone, so all we could really hear was loud rubbing and scraping over the speaker.

The video jerked, then flipped so the camera was facing up. It hit the floor with a crash.

The lighting was too low to make out more than shadows, even with the random bursts of colored lights illuminating the screen in time with the music. A large body kept swaying in and out of the frame. Noah?

A smaller one stepped over the phone. Was that the person whose shoes we’d just been looking at?

The woman bent and picked it up. The recording shook and moved about. The voices were louder now, but with the music, it was impossible to know what they were saying.

Noah’s face filled the screen. He looked…wrecked. But not like he’d been in a fight or anything.

He was drunk as fuck.

The recording ended.

Taking the phone out of River’s hand, I typed out a text.

---