Page 72 of Devious Knight

Oh God no. I’m good to eat and watch a few movies, but a club? Not so much.

“I’m not sure about going to a club. I’d have to get dressed up and sort my hair out and —”

“Oh my God, Isabelle, you sound like my ninety-year-old great-grandmother.”

“I do not. It’s just… sudden. I wasn’t planning on going out.”

“That’s exactly what my great-grandma would say.”

Wonderful. My life is already a mess. The last thing I need is to be compared to a ninety-year-old woman.

“I was just about to get in the bath, watch some TV and head to bed…” I stop talking when she quirks a skeptical brow.

“I keep hearing great-grandma every time you open your mouth. That is not good. Come on, Isabelle. Where's your sense of adventure and spontaneity? We’re eighteen and hot. We shouldn’t be locked up in our apartments on a Friday night. And we shouldn’t be miserable because other people want to screw with us. Let’s go out and go wild. Damn the consequences.”

I already damned the consequences of my actions this week and look where that got me.

But… maybe Mackenzie is right. I could use some time off campus, too.

“Come on, come on, come on.” Mackenzie takes my hands and jumps up and down like a child. No one would believe she was just talking about her life being over only a moment ago. “You’ve had the worst week ever. You deserve this.”

She doesn’t know the half of it. I kept the kiss to myself, thinking it was better to do so.

“Who knows? This might be my last weekend of freedom.” She pouts. “I’ll be dating that creep come Monday, enroute to marrying him, and then I’ll be the broken ballerina.”

She wins my sympathy with that comment. “Okay, okay. Let’s go out. And go wild. Just not too wild.”

“Okay.”

The things I do for my friends…

Why in the hell did I bother to think that Mackenzie would listen to me when I cautioned that we shouldn’t go too wild?

Try ending up in a sex club for size.

The words sex club don't even sound right in my head.

I remember when Mackenzie and I started talking in high school and she took me to a club where the guys played Russian roulette. I thought that was the most bizarre experience I’d ever had. Until we went on vacation to Florida and ended up in a gator swamp being chased not just by gators but also some guys I was sure were drug dealers. They were supposed to be our dates. Mackenzie found them on Tinder.

I was pretty sure she was drunk when she picked them and, me being me, I trusted her.

We’ve been through several wild experiences like that and our very own girl version of The Hangover.

But tonight…

Tonight’s the winner.

Mirror, mirror on the wall, which is the most bizarre Mackenzie idea of them all? The sex club, by far.

And how did I end up here instead of a regular club? Mackenzie begged me, twisted my sympathy, and got me to agree.

It’s my fault. I could have said no at the risk of more great-grandma comparisons. But I didn’t.

So here I am at the Dark Odyssey with a Venetian masquerade mask over my face and a silver coin in my purse to give to the guy I want to spend the night with.

God in heaven.

The things I do for my friends.

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