Page 30 of My Hunger, Your Soul

“Are you saying you won’t help the police?”

“You haven’t proven to me that you are who you say you are. All I know is you stalked me and took my photo. Now please leave before I call the real cops.”

“What! Ugh fine, I’ll come back with proof.”

“Don’t you dare come back. I didn’t invite you here and I don’t appreciate you bombarding me like this.”

I walk away before he has a chance to respond, and thank the gods when the elevator opens as I approach it. Holy shit. How the hell have I gotten caught up in their drama? This is a fucking mess.

18

TYLER

Finally, I arrive at the bar, Starlight. I have to say it's far nicer than I expected. I just assumed it would be like the movies, a run down gangster bar where everyone fights like we’re in a western. But this is the complete opposite. As the Uber leaves I walk inside the stunning building and I’m blown away by the elegance of it. The reds and blacks of the decor make it feel flirtatious. Naughty. No expense spared. The nerves I felt on the ride over here fade away as I take in every nugget of detail. As I approach the bar area, a familiar face looks up and quickly runs around the bar to greet me. Seb.

“Tyler! I’m so happy you came. I was beginning to think you’d flake out on me.”

I did consider it—multiple times.

“I said I’d come. It's a nice place.”

“Yeah, I love it here. We have a mix of cabaret and burlesque shows and the clientele are pretty great, well, most of the time. We occasionally get a few bad apples. Can I get you a drink?”

“Yes please,” I say as Seb pats me on the shoulder and moves around to the other side of the bar, while I take one of the black leather stools lined up against the dark wood bar. Chatter of the other patrons flitters through the air. It's not overly busy, but there are enough people here to drown out your own thoughts. I love the set up of the various round tables and booths, soft lighting, making the setting very intimate, designed to make you feel nothing but lust. The place screams sex, but in a subtle, sexy way.

“So, what will you have? Beer? Bourbon? Maybe a cocktail?”

“A bourbon sounds perfect, thanks.”

“No problem. Just gimme a sec,” Seb says, sauntering off to the back of the bar to reach for one of the expensive looking bottles on the mirrored shelves at the back.

“This is exciting. I can’t believe Ivan let you out to play,” a voice says, seated next to me. I turn to find Aaron staring at me, with another guy behind him who looks like he’s been in a fight with the amount of bruises on his neck. I was praying they wouldn't be here tonight as I didn’t want to face the questioning or weird conversations that seem to happen whenever Aaron is around.

“Let me out? I’m not a dog, Aaron.”

“No, you’re not. Knock it off, Aaron,” Seb says as he places a crystal glass filled with the secret potion that will make this night bearable.

“Whatever, but you know Ivan will be pissed,” Aaron says, and a hint of dread has me worried what that will look like. Ivan pissed at me.

Seb ignores Aaron and nods his head toward the other guy with Aaron.

“This is Kai. Jules’s husband,” Seb says, and I lean over Aaron to shake his hand. He smiles a sweet smile that shines like a beacon. Hallelujah, he’s another normal person.

“Nice to meet you,” I say before Aaron interrupts.

“Don’t worry about the bruises. You’ll get used to it. Kai likes to be choked and marked when he fucks Jules.”

“Aaron! For fucks sake, can you try not to share everything with anyone you meet?” Kai hisses, his cheeks turning red. I, however, freeze with my glass in my hand, wondering why the fuck someone would want to be hurt that way. Oh, who cares. Who am I to shame anyone? I’m drinking in a bar owned by criminals, socializing with their partners like they’re my friends. These guys are more on Noah’s level than mine. I don’t want to be rude and leave, as Seb has been so nice to me, but another part of me itches to run from the danger signs that flash in every direction. Knowing my luck, Ivan will suddenly appear.

“Uh oh, look who showed up,” Aaron says, encouraging me to turn around, only to see Ivan walking toward us. Holy shit he looks good. Really good. Why is he walking in slow motion? He’s dressed in an open white shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, black pants and biker boots. This is all finished off with his hair in a messy bun which also looks styled, his beard trimmed perfectly and his tanned skin glowing against the white of the shirt, making him look lickable. As my thoughts proceed down this route of sexualizing the asshole, I fail to notice everyone is staring at me, as I stare at Ivan who is standing in front of me with the most arrogant smirk I’ve ever seen. Even that’s hot.

“Thanks,” Ivan says to me, and I frown up at him as he towers over my stool. It's odd to feel small when I’ve always been the bigger guy.

“Thanks for what?”

“For saying I look hot,” he says, crossing his arms, emphasizing that large muscular chest and those huge arms, fighting with the material to break free. His tattoos beg me to take a closer look.

“I never said any such thing.”

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