Page 15 of Reign

I climb into the back of the SUV, very aware that half of my ass is probably waving at all the passengers, Max included. I wanted to wear a longer dress that had space to conceal my thigh holster but non-clingy, knee-length clubbing dresses aren’t really a thing. At least not for this Miami hot spot, so instead, I have an uber small pistol in my purse and my ass is damn-near hanging out beneath the golden sequins. The small bag I’m carrying has a long gold chain that acts as my crossbody strap and I don’t plan to let it out of my sight.

I make it all the way to the back and plop down next to Camila on the leather seat. Although the air freshener is working hard to cover it up, I can’t help but notice that the vehicle smells like sweaty men. Suddenly, bile rises to my throat and my hand shoots up to cover my mouth. I’m claustrophobic back here and my ears start ringing.

You have got to be fucking kidding me.

I close my eyes and lean my head on the window, trying to get some coolness to my flushed skin and suffer discreetly when I feel a cold blast of air. I pop one eye open and see Camila adjusting the overhead vents – mine had been closed. And she hands me a stick of gum.

“Here. Chew this. Hopefully we’ll be there soon.” Her tone is clipped. I’m not stupid enough to think she actually cares about me, but I can tell she’s serious about getting this mission over with.

Joelle, Marguerite, and Victoria do most of the talking on the fifteen-minute ride there. When an opening presents itself though, I pull myself together and remember what Camila told me earlier about the woman I needed to be tonight. That strong, take-no-shit woman.

I take a deep breath, the mint flavor of the gum soothing my nausea and I jump right in like I belong here.

Speaking to the back of Victoria’s head, I ask, “How long have you owned the club?”

She turns in her seat to look at me. She’s a very beautiful woman, her designer glasses fit her face like my dress fits my curves and they only accentuate her beauty. How she ended up with Max, I’ll never know. “Almost as long as we’ve been here,” she says, revealing nothing. “It started as an investment opportunity but took off faster than we imagined. We own six of them now, but even I have to admit, M.I.A. is my favorite.”

When we pull up to the doors ten minutes later, the line to get in is already wrapped around the block.

Eight

Casper/Dominic/Casandro

A QUICK SEARCH ABOUT the reputation of M.I.A. told me I needed a failsafe way to get in the door tonight. I called Mateo and told him the situation and he assured me he’d take care of it. I was skeptical, but upon arrival, I walked to the bouncer, told him my name and was ushered right in like a VIP.

I’m not sure how I feel about that. I wasn’t actually sure he’d be able to do anything for a club that Victoria and Max own, but once again, Mateo’s reach knows no bounds. For tonight, it’s a good thing. For everything else? I’m not so sure.

The club is tasteful but louder than what my parents ran. I understand wanting the music to feel like the pulse of the environment, but this is so loud it’s almost disorienting. Maybe that’s the point. Bodies are everywhere, swaying to the music, grinding on each other, milling around the bar. People are laughing, shouting to each other, and gesturing wildly with their hands.

I manage to find a table for two in a far corner and settle in, tucked back in the shadows. I would have preferred a seat at the bar because my view is slightly obstructed over here, but I don’t want to stand out tonight and unfortunately, my size means I always stand out. I’m dressed in all black – a conscious choice as if it would allow me to be swallowed by the shadows I now cling to. I also thought the darker outfit choice – along with the massivefuck offsign on my face that I borrowed from Isabel – would keep women at bay but so far, no luck.

A girl, maybe twenty-one, twenty-three at the absolute most, saunters over almost as soon as my ass hits the chair.

“Are you here alone?” She’s pretty in the way that all youth is pretty. Clear skin, no inhibitions, life is her oyster. She’s a small girl, maybe five foot five without her four-inch heels, a hundred pounds soaking wet with an intellectual look about her and no muscle definition at all telling me she spends the majority of her time studying or in an office. Law student maybe? She has balls, I’ll give her that, but there’s no way she could handle me. I’d snap her in fucking half before I was even halfway in.

“No.”

“I saw you when you came in. No one was with you.” Persistent little minx. Unfortunately for her, I’m not interested. I used to tell women I was gay but there’s something about me that made it so no one believed me. There’s only one way to deal with women like her.

Throw her in the deep end.

I crook my finger, telling her to come in closer. Her lips part and her pupils dilate as she leans in, giving me an eyeful down her dress.

“Do you think you can take a dick this size up that tight little ass of yours while I have you tied to my headboard? Because I don’t do anything gently and I’m not interested in cuddling. We do this at my hotel, and I’ll call you an Uber when we’re done. No names. No personal information.” At this point she still looks on board which is shocking. Most women aren’t willing to give up the ass for a one-night stand. I stifle a chuckle thinking how much fun I would have had with her eighteen years ago. But now it’s time to end this and get my head back in the game. “Two hours at the most though, I have an early meeting with my parole officer.”

Her eyes go wide. She’s finally checking out.

“Oh, um,” she stutters, now realizing she’s out of her league.

I grab her wrist as she turns to go and give her some friendly advice. “Don’t approach men that look like me, sweetheart. If we’re in a bar, we’re looking for our next victim, and if we’re in church, we’re cleaning the blood off our conscience. You look too sweet to go down either of those routes.”

I’m pretty sure she’s stopped breathing. I let go of her wrist and nod my head toward the dance floor. “Have a good night.”

When I look back up, I see a set of women enter the club from a dark hallway on the other side of the large room. As the strobe lights hit them, I can make out familiar faces, but the whole energy in the room changes when one woman in particular enters. It could be pitch-ass black in here and I’d know she’d arrived.

I watch as the women secure a table and head to the bar for drinks. The woman with the blonde bob has her arm looped through Isabel’s. Camila is standing apart from the group of women, looking around. No doubt trying to locate all the exits and quite possibly looking for me. Isabel may trust that I stayed home, Camila won’t. I drop farther back into the shadows as her eyes rove over my table. It’s unnecessary; I’m sure she knows I’m here.

Time passes quickly. I could watch Isabel move all night. I thought I’d be more on edge, but Camila seems to keep herself between Isabel and the rest of the club at all times which I appreciate more than she knows.

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