Page 106 of Price of Angels

There was a collective cheer from the corner where the girl had been dancing before. Holly had some colorful ideas why.

“No,” she said, wincing. “I guess I should have expected it, but I just…”

“It’s a lot to take in,” Ava said, understanding. “Trust me, I’ve been around it my whole life, and it’s still grating.”

Holly returned her small smile, grateful for the friendly gesture.

“Aw, that’s ‘cause you’re young,” Nell said, waving away Ava’s assertion. “And ‘cause your man’s young, and all these Lean Bitches wouldn’t mind taking him home. It gets easier the older you get. You stop worrying so much.”

Ava frowned, clearly wanting to argue, but keeping quiet.

Holly took another sip of her drink and said, “Excuse me. I’m going to go find the restroom.”

“It’s down that hall,” Ava said. “First on the left. Don’t go farther than that, or you’ll be in the dorms.”

Holly had no idea what she meant, but it sounded ominous. “Thanks.”

She didn’t head for the hallway. Once she’d slipped between two Dogs and was out of sight of the table, she made a beeline for the front door. She tried to scan for Michael, but there were just too many people, and too much smoke. She dodged elbows and tripped over boots, coughing into her hand against the burn in her lungs. The farther she progressed through the tangle of bodies, the more desperate she became. Too much smoke, too much sweat-smell in the air, too much sex, sex, sex, all but punching her in the face each direction she looked. Like an explorer navigating the Amazon, she forced her way through the jungle of arms and legs.

And then suddenly she was free, going down the entry hall, bursting out into the cold night air.

Holly dragged in a huge, ragged breath and staggered to one of the steel support columns of the portico, a slender pole she wrapped an arm around and leaned against, pressing her hot forehead to the freezing metal.

“God,” she breathed, panting. Her heartrate was uneven, her pulse skittering in her ears.

She wanted to leave.

She wanted to be stronger than this.

She wanted Michael.

When she closed her eyes, it wasn’t this raucous party that filled her mind, but the old bedroom in the farmhouse. She felt the phantom ropes at her wrists, smelled the musty tang of sweat, heard the bed groan as another faceless worshipper climbed up and settled between her trembling legs.

Sex and terror were linked for her. She’d thought she would be less nervous now, after all that Michael had shown her, but tonight was setting her back, shoving her back, and she didn’t know how to stop it.

“Hey, are you alright?” a female voice asked.

Holly opened her eyes and saw that she was now surrounded. Three women stood around her, spaced loosely, posture casual. Non-threatening. One was the girl in the rhinestone bra from inside, the garment secured once more. Another was a thick-waisted redhead in a pleated Catholic schoolgirl skirt and fishnets, her white shirt knotted and unbuttoned to reveal the red bra underneath.

The third stood in the center, directly in front of Holly, a tan blonde with a black minidress and a dazzling smile. She had freckles on her chest, and chill bumps too, out here sleeveless in the cold.

She was the one who’d spoken. “You okay, hon?” she repeated, still smiling.

Holly nodded and straightened, still holding onto the pole for support. “Just overheated, I think. I’m fine.”

The redhead grinned. “Overheated’s the only way to be around here.”

The blonde said, “You’re new, aren’t you? Yeah, I haven’t seen you around.” She gestured to herself. “I’m Jasmine.” There were faint lines around her mouth and eyes that revealed she was older than she looked. “This is Chanel” – the redhead – “and Heather” – the one with the bra.

“Holly,” she said.

“Holly. That’s pretty,” Jasmine said. She stepped closer, into Holly’s personal space. “You’repretty.” She reached and took a thick lock of Holly’s dark hair between her fingers. Her eyes lit up. “Ooh, you’d be perfect for baby boy. You know Tango? Have you met him? Come on, I’ll introduce you.” She reached for Holly’s hand. “I keep telling him he needs to try that whole ‘sweet girl’ thing, just to see if he likes it. I can come with you, get you two acquainted.” She winked, and the other two girls smiled. Her fingers latched onto Holly’s wrist and she tugged. “Don’t be nervous. He’s really sweet. Come on.”

Holly yanked her hand away, digging her heels in against the concrete. “I’m not here to sleep with anyone,” she said, horrified, stomach clenching so tight she thought she’d be sick.

Jasmine laughed. “No, hon, you for sure won’t be sleeping.”

Jesus, all these girls thought she was one of them. That she was some kind of biker groupie who’d come to get laid.

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