Page 95 of Myself

We all climb out of the Escalade, and Milton tells me to give him a thirty-minute warning when we are ready for him to come and pick us up. We start to walk to the building when Ashlyn speaks. “I wonder how many drunks will walk right off the concrete and into the river.”

I look over at the concrete slab that just ends and then there’s the river. The club sits on a corner across the bridge. You can see all of Manhattan from over here. It’s still early. I wanted to beat the rush, especially for a grand opening. Hell, it’s still freaking daylight.

I look back at her. “That would be terrible,” I say wide-eyed.

“They need to put a rail up,” Thomas adds.

She sighs. “I was just kidding.” She also lies. I’m not sure where her head is at, but it’s scaring me.

Thomas places his hand on her arm and looks at me. “It was nice of you to get her out tonight. She needs to get out more.”

She blows some wild strands from her face. “Let’s get inside. I need a drink.” She pulls away from him and walks toward the door.

We walk up to the front door as there is no line yet, and I smile. We may be hammered by eight p.m., but at least we’re not waiting in a line to get in. A man stands at the entrance. His arms over his large chest and legs wide. He has an earpiece in his ear. But instead of wearing a security shirt, he has on a black button-down, sleeves rolled up to expose his muscular forearms. Black slacks with Chucks. “Hello,” he says to all of us in a deep voice.

“Hello,” I say, handing him my ID.

“Well, hello there,” Thomas says with a wink.

He chuckles as he looks down at my ID, a small flashlight in his left hand. He frowns and then looks at me. “Is there a problem?” I ask concerned. My license is still from Washington State. I haven’t had the desire to mess with the DMV to get it changed.

“O’Kane?” he questions, handing me back my ID. “Are you any relation to Ryder O’Kane?”

Ashlyn stiffens beside me. I feel sorry for her; she just can’t escape him.

“Oh, yes,” I answer, taking a long breath. “He’s my brother.”

He smiles, and even his smile is threatening. I don’t think he means it to be, but it comes off as don’t fuck with me. He reaches out his right hand. “I am Jet Weathers. Welcome to Seven Deadly Sins.”

“Thank you.” I have overheard my brother talking to this guy on the phone while we were in Panama. I remembered it earlier after Jaycent and I had sex, and I looked it up. As luck would have it, their grand opening was tonight. “This is my friend Ashlyn and our other friend Thomas.”

He shakes hands with Thomas, and Ashlyn reaches hers out although it looks like a limp noodle. He pulls a walkie-talkie out of his back pocket and speaks into it. “Miller?” he calls into it. “Come to the front. I have a group I need you to show to the balcony suite.”

“Oh no, you don’t have to do that,” I say, waving my hands in the air.

“I do,” he says, and then another guy appears who I’m guessing is Miller. And he’s bigger than Jet is. Thomas actually whistles as he looks him up and down. Jet slaps him on his back. “Their tab is on me tonight.”

“No, really ....”

“I insist,” he urges, placing his hand on his chest.

I give him a weak smile and nod. “Thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure.”

Ashlyn opens her purse to dig for her ID, but he waves her off. “No need,” he says to her. “You guys have fun, and if you have any problems, let me or Miller know.”

“Thank you,” Thomas says excitedly.

Ashlyn wraps her arm around my shoulders, and I tense. “What’s wrong?” she asks.

I shake my head, not wanting to talk about it. She already knows that I don’t like it when people use my last name to give me stuff. But I guess this is more because of what Ryder did for him. Not just my name.

We enter the dark club and turn to the right, walking down a long and narrow hallway then out into an open area. The walls are a dark gray with what looks like black paint splattered all over them. The music blares as usual for a club, and the lights flash to the beat.

The man who went by Miller climbs a set of stairs covered in black carpet. We make it to the top and walk around a black railing. He removes a black rope and moves to the side for us to pass him. Two black couches facing one another sit with white throw pillows on them, and a black coffee table sits in the middle. “Here you go.”

Ashlyn and I sit down on one of the couches, and Thomas picks the one across from us, smiling up at Miller like an idiot. He raises his hand. Seconds later, a woman with black hair comes running over. He bends down and speaks into her ear. We can’t hear much over the music. When she pulls away, she’s nodding and smiling. He walks away, leaving her to it.

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