Page 16 of Unleashing Chaos

Yeah.

I swallow over the lump in my throat and tamp down my growing panic.

I need you to come get me . . . I’m at a nightclub

The three dots appear at the bottom of the screen and vanish. They start again and just as quickly go away. Several seconds pass before they return, followed by a message.

Are you drunk or are they kicking you out for flipping all their cups the wrong way?

I freeze for a long moment, unsure whether to laugh or scream.

Ha-ha. You’re so funny, are you going on tour with your jokes? No, I’m not drunk, and no, I haven’t touched their cups. This guy asked me to dance, put his hands all over me, he wouldn’t stop when I asked him to, and he wouldn’t let me go. I had to knee him in the balls to get away from him and now he’s waiting outside the bathroom for me. I heard some girls talking about it. He’s pissed, and I’m freaked out.

A couple of seconds later, he sends another message.

I just checked your location to put in my GPS. For fuck’s sake, Desideria. Apex Fusion is a cesspool of assholes. Stay put. I’ll be there in fifteen.

Okay. Thank you.

Why is this so hard? Back home, demons find their partners—or whomever they want to date for the moment—every day. They do all the things the humans do—dinner dates, dancing, walks in the park hand in hand, but without the uninvited groping and coma-inducing conversations. Humans have always had their issues; I just never expected them to be so distasteful when it comes to dating and sex. Finding a decent human shouldn’t be this difficult. I hate to admit it, but maybe I should have tried harder to find a demon partner.

Fifteen minutes later my phone vibrates in my hand, and I almost drop it in the toilet, I move so fast to unlock it.

Come out of the bathroom. I’m right outside.

My heart leaps into my throat and I burst out of the stall, wash my hands, and open the door carefully, scanning the area for both the offending man and Jace.

The one I’m happy to see stands right next to the bathroom, just as he said, and I have never been more relieved to see another person in my life. He’s wearing faded jeans and a half-zip pullover sweater that is the richest shade of burgundy. It’s out of place with the sweaty shirts and bare skin around us, but it looks good . . . comfortable, safe.

All my earlier annoyance with him melts away. “Jace, thank you,” I mumble, and before I can stop myself, I’m wrapping my arms around his waist and pulling him to me in a grateful embrace that surprises even me.

He goes stiff under my touch, but my relief won’t allow me to let him go. After a few seconds, he relaxes and gives me an awkward pat on the back.

“Where is the guy that had you locking yourself in the bathroom?” he asks, his voice laced with anger.

I look up at him, still hanging on to his waist. “What?”

“The jackass trying to pass himself off as a human who was touching you without consent. Where the hell is he?”

His dark tone reminds me of the text message he sent that creeper who asked me if I was DTF the other night, and I don’t know why I didn’t predict that he’d ask me to point this guy out.

Trying to ignore the anger I can practically feel rolling off Jace, I glance around the club, but the guy isn’t anywhere in sight. “I don’t see him. I don’t want you to start anything with him anyway. I just want to go home.”

“Someone needs to say something—”

“Please, Jace.”

He sweeps his eyes from the bar to the dance floor one last time and nods. “All right. Let’s get you out of here.”

We exit the club, the absence of the loud, thumping music a shock to my ears. I’m still holding on to his waist, and he drapes one arm around my shoulder, holding me close to his side.

The parking lot is littered with club patrons, mostly smoking cigarettes and pot, some of them just leaning against their cars and talking, but my heart drops when I see a familiar head of coiffed blond hair. He laughs at whatever the guy across from him says. As if he has a tracking device on me, his eyes catch mine and his smile fades. “Hey, does your boyfriend know you were grinding up on my dick on the dance floor?” he calls across the lot.

Jace stops walking and his fingertips sink into my shoulder. “Still want me to leave it alone?”

I don’t get a chance to answer before Patrick takes another stab at me.

“Your girl’s a slut, bro.”

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