Page 21 of Pray for the Damned

That I’m kind of a hussy.

I’ve never ached like I do right now, never craved the things that I’ve seen as Hannah has led me around the whole club, even taking me into the themed rooms, which raised more questions than I had answers to.

Would I like to be tied to a medical table and have someone test how receptive I am to them like the woman we just watched come repeatedly? I’m not sure. But it made me needy as hell, and I’m definitely not ruling it out.

“So what do you think?” Hannah asks as she leads me back toward the main floor.

“It’s…kind of a lot.” I half laugh.

She nods thoughtfully. “It’s overwhelming to begin with. When I first started coming here, I was searching for something, but I wasn’t sure what at the time. I never thought when I walked through those doors and saw someone getting railed that it would quickly become my favorite place in the world. The only place I can truly be myself.” Her soft smile brings a matching one to my lips, and I find myself liking the idea of being friends withher, something I have always shied away from in order to protect myself.

“Do you want to get a drink before you head off?” she asks.

“I’m sure there’s something you would rather be doing after being stuck with me all night.” I half laugh.

“No way! Let’s get a drink and celebrate all the dirty sex you’re going to have in these walls.”

A laugh bursts out of me. “I don’t know about that.” My cheeks heat at the thought, but Hannah only looks amused as she leads me toward the bar I was behind last night.

Abigail beams at me as we approach. “I had a feeling I’d be seeing you again. I’m glad they gave you the job!”

“So am I,” I admit.

“Wyatt brought the new schedule around earlier, and it looks like we have some shifts together over the next couple of weeks!” She seems genuinely excited at the idea of working with me, and I can’t help but lean into the feeling of being wanted. It’s not something I’ve ever really allowed myself to hope for. But in the last forty-eight hours, I’ve felt more wanted than I have in my entire life.

I try to ignore the way my chest constricts at that thought. How sad that I’m twenty-six years old and this is the first time I’ve ever felt like the people around me want me to stick around.

“Now, about that drink. I’m a tequila girl myself, how about you?” Hannah turns to me with a smile.

“I don’t really drink much,” I admit. It’s never been safe for me to do so before. I’ve always been too busy looking over my shoulder to allow myself to be that vulnerable.

Hannah and Abigail stare at me, their brows lifted in surprise. “A bartender that doesn’t drink,” Abigail shakes her head. “Can’t have that. I’ll make you both a cocktail, go sit.”

I open my mouth to argue, because once I leave here, I still have to walk home, but the argument dies on my lipswhen Hannah grasps my hand and drags me toward the booth Emmett was sitting in last night.

“Score! Usually the hot priest is sitting here, and it has the best view of the entire club.” She drags me into the booth, and I collapse into the soft leather beside her. A startled laugh escapes my throat, and for once I don’t bother trying to smother it. “Did you meet him last night?”

“Who?”

“Emmett? The hot-as-sin priest who likes to watch?” She waggles her brows at me, and I can’t help but giggle.

Hannah is a free spirit, and I’m more envious than I’ve ever been about someone’s personality. I can’t help but wonder what it’s like to be able to smile openly, to not be looking over my shoulder constantly, to be able to live without the threat of being taken. But I don’t know Hannah. Not really. I have no idea what she’s been through, and therefore I have no right to judge her. She may very well have just as much baggage as I do, she just feels safe here to allow herself to be vulnerable.

“I met him.” I nod, my cheeks heating at the memory of him on his bike this afternoon and how I felt his eyes on me the entire time I worked last night. There’s something about him that seems so familiar that if I believed in that kind of thing, I would wonder if I knew him in a past life.

Hannah gives me a knowing look but thankfully keeps her mouth shut as Abigail brings us our drinks. “Two pornstar martinis.” She beams, and I stare at the pink drink for long seconds waiting for the joke.

“Oh, you’re serious,” I murmur, pulling the martini glass closer to me.

“These things are the fucking best,” Hannah says as she immediately brings the glass to her lips and moans when the alcohol touches her tongue. “Especially when you make them, Ab.”

Abigail’s smile widens as she waits for me to take a drink. “Didn’t you say you’ve done bartending before?”

I nod. “I have, but more so at dive bars. Surprisingly, burly men don’t get pink drinks with names like a pornstar martini.” I giggle as I follow Hannah’s lead. My eyes fall closed as the tart combination of flavors overwhelms me, but the telltale warmth of alcohol accompanies it, and I quickly take another sip.

“I think she likes it,” Hannah comments.

“Oh, she definitely does,” Abigail agrees.

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