Page 43 of Ripper's Redemption

“Live a little, Siren,” I shoot back, taking another swig of my drink, the burn of the whiskey a comforting reminder I’m still in control. For now, anyway.

I hardly drink, but tonight I want to. I want to get a little crazy and do something wild.

“She’s got a point,” Poison chimes in, leaning back against the wall of the clubhouse.

We walked over to the wall to give us a little bit of privacy.

She has that dangerous smile that makes me wonder exactly what she’s saying. “It’s your birthday party, girl. Let loose.”

“I’m trying,” I murmur, but this time my voice lacks the enthusiasm I mustered up earlier.

The truth is, I’m having fun, but there’s a part of me that can’t shake the disappointment gnawing at my insides.

“All right, I have to dig in,” Poison says after a moment, her gaze narrowing on me. “What’s really going on, Tara? You’ve been looking over your shoulder all night.”

“It’s Ripper, remember?” Siren adds, resting her chin on her hand as she studies me. “He’s really getting under your skin, isn’t he?”

I sigh, grumbling. “Yeah, you’re right on the money. It’s Ripper,” I admit, the words tasting bitter as they leave my mouth. “He’s really fucking pissing me off.”

“I’m sure he’ll be here soon.” Poison offers, trying to stay positive.

“Who the hell knows,” I mutter, my fingers tracing patterns on the condensation of my glass. “But still. It’s my birthday. If he’s my boyfriend, he should want to spend some time with me right now.”

“I’m sure he wants to be here, but you have to understand club business comes above relationships sometimes.” Siren speaks up.

“Tell me about it,” I agree, though the anger in my voice is starting to fade, replaced by a dull ache. “I just... I know it’s stupid, but I wanted tonight to be special.”

“Hey, it’s not stupid,” Poison says softly, reaching across to give me a reassuring squeeze. “Honestly, you deserve better than this.”

“Thanks,” I whisper, feeling a surge of warmth at her words.

“Here’s to making the best of it,” Siren declares, raising her glass once more. “Happy birthday, Tara.”

“Happy birthday,” Poison echoes, her grip tightening just for a moment before he let go.

“Happy birthday to me,” I repeat, managing a genuine smile this time.

We clink our glasses together, the sound ringing out like a promise.

Maybe Ripper will show up, maybe he won’t. But either way, I’m not alone. And for tonight, that’s enough.

“Hey, don’t let this ruin your night,” Siren chimes in, her voice a mix of steel and silk. “He’s got responsibilities. You know how it is.”

“Sure,” I reply, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach my eyes.

No lie, I’m annoyed that she’s trying to excuse his behavior.

Like, I get it, but I’m still annoyed.

This is all for show—everything with Ripper is a performance.

Fake boyfriend or not, he has a role to play, and days like this are a fucking given if you ask me.

Hell, I spot my dad from across the way and I know he’s wondering where the hell Ripper is.

The club is alive with laughter and loud music, the scent of the bonfires thick in the air.

I force myself to relax a bit, letting the vibrations of the bass move through me, hoping it will drown out the irritation simmering just beneath my skin.

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