Page 32 of Turmoil's Target

There’s a definite spark between us, an electricity I can’t deny.

I just have to remember it’s all an act, a means to an end.

I can’t afford to actually catch feelings for this chick.

That’s a complication I don’t need.

Still, I can’t help but wonder what it would be like if things were different.

If she wasn’t Sally Bernard or Lunatic’s daughter, and I wasn’t a biker playing dress-up to bring her mother down.

In another life, maybe.

I shake off the wayward thoughts as I polish off the last of my food.

No use dwelling on might-have-beens.

This is the hand I’ve been dealt, and I intend to play it out to the end.

I drop a few crumpled bills on the table. “You ready to head out?”

He drains the rest of his beer and nods. “Yeah, I’m good.”

We walk out into the rapidly cooling desert night, the first stars just starting to peek out overhead.

I glance down at my phone, seeing a text from Seraphina light up the screen.

With that, we get in the Mustang and head further into the Vegas lights, ready to see just how deep this rabbit hole goes.

The bar Rita picked is swanky as hell, all glass and chrome and mood lighting.

Definitely not the kind of dive Jolt and I usually frequent.

I can practically feel him tensing up beside me as we walk through the door, his shoulders hunching like he’s trying to make himself smaller.

I elbow him lightly in the ribs. “Relax, man. You belong here just as much as anyone else.”

Jolt shoots me a skeptical look. “Easy for you to say, Mr. Hollywood. Some of us didn’t grow up with a silver spoon in our mouths.”

I roll my eyes at the old nickname.

Just because my dad made it big in Tinseltown doesn’t mean I’m some kind of trust fund brat.

But I get where Jolt’s coming from.

This place reeks of money and privilege, two things that have always been in short supply for guys like us.

“Just fake it till you make it,” I tell him with a shrug. “Confidence is key. Act like you own the place and nobody will question it.”

Jolt takes a deep breath, squares his shoulders, and nods. “All right, let’s get this over with.”

We spot the girls almost immediately, tucked away in a cozy booth near the bar.

I guess planning to come here early didn’t really work out for us.

Seraphina looks like a million bucks as always, her golden hair gleaming under the soft lights and her red lips curved in a welcoming smile.

I slide into the booth next to Seraphina, slipping an arm around her shoulders like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

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