Page 13 of Under the Lies

She waves a hand in front of her with a wild flourish, her eyes glued to the poker game. More specifically the lean and dapper player with the dark hair and even darker eyes.

He glances at us, sending her a wink.

“What can I say.” Reluctantly, Brin looks at me, forgetting her next sexual victim for the moment. “My parents operate on levels of petty and when it comes to Noah there is no tier high enough to hold the amount of spite they’ll sling his way.”

My mother’s words float back to me. Just because we can afford a membership, doesn’t mean we should. I mean, it’s more exclusive that we don’t. We don’t want to do what everyone else is doing. The Brooks family strives to stand out.

And by stand out she meant being exactly the same.

Despite my parents’ sheer refusal to join The Underground, I had always wondered what made it so special.

It couldn’t only be the price tag to join, or that the pots to win went astronomically high. Everyone knows the house always wins, right?

As if on cue, the sounds of dismayed and disgruntled groans hit my ears.

Apparently not.

The curious cat that lives inside me has always wanted to know. There had to be something else. Something more. Special.

And now that I’m here, I don’t get it.

Maybe it is the membership fee, the exclusivity and anonymity of the place, thanks to the NDA they have you sign when you first arrive.

Whatever it is, I find myself wanting to explore more of this place rather than play a game of cards. At least for right now. My fingers still twitch in eager anticipation to play. The house might be conned to win, but they never had a granddad like Jack Brooks, card shark extraordinaire. Just one of my grandfather’s many talents.

My eyes continue to absorb what’s before me. “It’s like we’re back at Winter Formal. You know, if it had a theme other than virginal.” I still have nightmares of the white dress my mother forced me to wear. Horrendous doesn’t even cover it.

My gaze devours the fancy tuxes and gowns at the card tables, leaning against the bar, and simply floating across the floor. At the diamonds that sparkle in the light and the crystal champagne flutes that wink by me on passing trays.

Add in a fountain and braces and you have my debut into society.

It’s been so long since I’ve been to a gathering of this taste that I feel like an outsider peering in to a secret world that only comes from a birthright. A birthright I have but no longer feel like a member of.

“Bite your fucking tongue.” Brin smacks my arm. “That is one day I do not want to relive.”

“Why? It’s not like you fell into the fountain with your all white gown.” Because that was me. And who was the first people I saw when I resurfaced? Noah Kincaid, of course. Staring at my soaked form, laughing.

I shudder at the memory. I can still hear the sound of his twisted delight all these years later.

“What do you want to play first?”

I don’t. I want to explore. To not only see what else this club has to offer, but to see if the owner is home as well. I’ve spent all week hoping to not see him and now that I’m in one of his places of business, I can’t help but want to get it over with.

This extra tension under my skin isn’t worth the stress.

I don’t tell Brin any of that, she doesn’t even know that Noah and I had a run-in the night at Heathen’s Hell, so when she starts to pull me in the direction of the winking, dark featured poker player, I let her.

Standing among the small crowd that has gathered around, I recognize some faces, mostly friends of my parents but also a few people who went to prep school with me. None of them meet my eyes and if they happen to glance in my direction, it’s with a look of tolerance and disdain.

Confirming what I haven’t really let myself acknowledge… I don’t belong here anymore. And not just at the casino, but around these people. This world. The wealthy elite. The privileged top tier.

Thanks to college, I now know what it’s like to live paycheck to paycheck instead of wiping my booty with hundred-dollar bills. And if it wasn’t for the money I inherited with my granddad’s death I’d still be working now. I don’t touch the trust my parents set up for me.

But money or not, one fact remains true.

This world isn’t mine anymore.

I’m the outsider.

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