Page 57 of What's Left of Us

I watch the lights of Denver roll by as Nate navigates I-25, trying to get my mind in order. I don’t want to think about business or upkeep or freaking cleaning; I just want to go to the place I built with Vinny when I thought the world was forever dimmed. It feels like a sick joke that we’re returning from Florida without Alastair for a second time.

“Do you think it’s a good area?”

Vinny paces the length of the room. It’s a massive building; a bigger commitment than we expected. I think the area looks okay, but we’ve only been in Denver for a little over a year and we haven’t looked into real estate very much.

We never made it to Boulder. There was a house on the market in the Denver metro area that someone outbid us for, and the realtor suggested this place with hills, space, and a view to fucking die for. I couldn’t move anywhere else once I saw that.

So the club has to be here. It’s bittersweet building something I planned with Alastair without him, but the dream still exists even if he doesn’t.

“I think you’ll get a ton of foot traffic,” the realtor tells us. “You could have signs outside and open a bar area down here at the entrance-”

“This isn’t a regular bar,” I interrupt, crossing my arms. “We aren’t interested in foot traffic. It’s going to be by invitation and pre-approval only. It would help keep people safer.”

The woman pauses and looks me up and down. I cut out my chin, narrowing my eyes as she judges me. I get it, I’mnineteen with too much money in the bank and a shit-ton of scars. I look sketchy, and my husband looks questionable too. But all our funding is good, and really, she’d be a fool to screw this up and lose out on a large commission.

After my mother died, I learned she was holding out on me financially. Mom was always changing banks; I constantly had to figure out where my debit card was supposed to go when she was juggling funds. I thought it was because things were tight.

So when the bank called me following her funeral a couple months ago to let me know that a transfer didn’t go through, and they were sitting on 100k that needed to be handled, I thought it was a joke. But an attorney contacted me, saying the money was legit from a settlement my mother received following her parents life insurance policy when she was a teen. Since I was eighteen when Mom died, I didn’t have a settlement like that to look forward to. I’m not entirely sure my mother even believed in life insurance.

Now we’re investing the money, because although Vinny has a trust fund, we didn’t want to drain it since his father cut him off. We’re trying to be practical without drawing attention. But if I have to try and waitress at one more restaurant and get stared at, I’m going to claw my skin off. I can’t stand being a spectacle for patrons who think it’s okay to insult me since they paid money for their burger and fries.

I already told Vinny several times we don’t need to follow his fathers footsteps and get into illegal trade. The militia in Colorado somehow got him on their radar within weeks of arriving here, and that’s something else I’ll choose to blame Massimo for. They have more or less left us alone, but I’d like to have something in place so Vinny isn’t tempted to take them up on any of their offers. We don’t need the money that badly.

“What kind of club is it then?” she asks at length, and I almost forgot we were talking about that. I guess she thought I’d just supply the answer for her. Vinny saves me by interrupting from across the room.

“A BDSM club,” he calls, and she does a double take, mouth literally falling open. “Relax, Brenda. It’s not a violation or prostitution. We won’t be selling bodies or acts. We’re selling a safe experience in a controlled environment, so everyone who wants to can have fun. You should try it.”

The truck turns off and the interior lights turn on, dragging me out of the memory. I could think about that night over and over, remembering how excited I was to find a place with three massive floors, a basement and a rooftop that was within our budget. We put so much money into the club to make it nice, and only then did we start advertising and hoping it would catch on.

Looking out the windshield, I can see the lights on the building. Everything is discreet to keep our members safe, including the building itself. There’s ambient lighting outside, but the only sign is an S and nothing else, so you have to know what to look for to even find it.

I’m sliding out of the truck before anyone speaks. “Emeric said he dropped off the car already and a few things to help out. Doors should be open. He just left.”

I glance at Nate as Vinny steps out beside me. With the doors open I can see Callie’s face too, but I can’t read her expression. They both look a little strange. “What?”

Callie speaks before Nate can again. “Nothing. We’re just… everyone’s going to be so happy you two are back.”

“The key should be inside,” Nate goes on, and I’m kind of surprised Emeric left the doors unlocked like this before leaving.Unless we were pulling into the lot as he left its a risk leaving a club open like this, even on a Monday. “Lights are on.”

“What about the cleaning?” Vinny asks.

They exchange a glance, and I don’t know why they’re acting weird but I can’t make myself care enough to ask. Callie clears her throat before she responds. “I’ll message Emeric but he’ll talk to you about it. Supposed to be closed until two tomorrow too, so take your time. No one’s rushing you.”

Now I’m mildly curious what the cleaning is, but instead I just watch as Vinny grabs our bags out of the bed and ignores me when I try to take one. I don’t have the energy to be annoyed by it.

“We’ll see you soon,” Nate calls as I close the door. They don’t drive off right away, and I know they are probably waiting to see that we make it inside.

Turning on my heel, Vinny matches my steps to the doors. They open as expected, and I don’t look back as I walk into the club.

Without the music, mood lighting, and the crowds, it’s very peaceful. I like the club when it’s full of life too, but right now the peace is what I need. I close my eyes and walk past the empty security desk and check-in, vaguely aware of Vinny doubling back after grabbing the key sitting there. He’ll lock us in so we don’t have to worry about anyone intruding.

Looking around the main room, I take in the space. The decorations and silk across the walls are similar, but I can tell someone’s gone through and swapped props and changed the lighting to give the room a summery feel. Everything else is mostly the same, until my eyes lock on something across the room.

“They changed the office door,” Vinny says, following me across the space. We’ve always had a wood door in place at the base of another set of stairs to keep the office private. It’s a reallybig room with our desks and all client files, security measures, and anything else that should be under lock and key. The new door looks more secure and blends into the walls better, but I can’t decide if I like it. It’s like a barn door, or it used to be. All the hardware is new.

And it’s open, so I can look up the steps. Aside from the office we share, there’s a much smaller room up there with two sofas where we do intake forms for people who want to become official sexual partners at the club. It’s entirely different from everything we’ve been doing in Florida.

I don’t hesitate, taking the steps two at a time. I just want to be upstairs in the place I always come to settle my mind. I’m positive Serenity and Emeric changed things around over the last six months, but I don’t even care. It’s the space that counts.

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