Page 29 of The Life Experiment
Grinning, Locke held up a bag of white powder. ‘Fancy some?’
Jasper didn’t need to be asked twice. He took the bag to the table and poured out the contents, cutting lines of cocaine with more care than Angus had seen his friend give to anything else.
As the VIP attendant pretended not to notice what was going on, Jasper laughed. ‘Imagine anyone else doing this. They’d be arrested before they even cut a line.’
Locke howled, then dipped towards the table. Angus watched him hoover drugs into his right nostril, then throw his head back and roar to the ceiling, ‘We’re untouchable! We’re un-fucking-touchable!’
Suddenly, Angus felt sick. Never had he been more aware of how stomach-churning his friends were. Hidden in the corner of some sleazy bar, downing drugs, safe in the knowledge that while other people would lose their livelihoods for this behaviour, they would be fine.
It was wrong.
It was all wrong.
And Angus was part of it.
As Jasper inhaled a line then looked at Angus expectantly, Angus noticed for the first time how his friend’s mousy hair was thinning. His skin wore the signs of too many nights like this, but still, Jasper held out a rolled note for Angus to join him.
Angus stepped backwards, but an arm slipped around his waist and stopped him. ‘You made it,’ someone purred into his ear. He turned to find a glassy-eyed Clarissa behind him, vodka and a sweet mixer clinging to her breath.
‘Jasper wouldn’t let me miss this,’ he replied, catching the eye of his irritated friend, who pointed to the drugs waiting on the table.
‘I can always count on Jasper to get you where I want you to be.’ Clarissa spoke of seduction, but her tipsy slurring ruined the effect. Grinning, she ran her hand down the centre of Angus’s chest. ‘You better come to Saint Lucia. I have my eye on a room beside yours.’
Her words plunged Angus underwater. He could picture the trip already. Too much sun, too much alcohol, too much everything. Jasper, louder than ever now he had an audience for two weeks. Clarissa creeping into Angus’s room in the early hours of the morning, pretending to be lost, though that had been her destination all along.
As if reading Angus’s mind, Clarissa pushed her body against his. ‘I’ll bring my smallest bikini,’ she whispered, biting his earlobe to demonstrate her intentions.
Angus’s reaction was instinctive. He stumbled away, hands in the air to protest his innocence, with only one thing on his mind… Layla.
Layla whose searing honesty would cut through this bullshit.
Layla who could save him from these people, this place.
Layla who might even save him from himself.
Laughing to downplay the sting of rejection, Clarissa grabbed Angus and tugged him towards the sofas, but it was too late. Angus was gone, consumed by thoughts of Layla.
As Clarissa pulled harder, Angus made his choice. ‘Excuse me,’ he said, breaking free of her grip and heading for the rope marking off the VIP section.
‘Angus? Where the fuck are you going?’ Clarissa shouted, but after a few strides her voice melted into the music.
Pushing through the bodies on the dance floor, Angus made a beeline for the exit. The closer he got to it, the quicker his movements became, until suddenly the dance floor and all its intoxicated revelry was far behind him.
Cool air kissed Angus’s flushed cheeks as he stepped outside, but he didn’t allow himself time to enjoy it. Instead, he paced down an alleyway beside the club and pulled out his phone.
She picked up after six rings. ‘Hello?’
Layla’s voice vibrated through Angus, making him nervous. ‘Layla, it’s—’
‘Angus. You called.’
Melting against the wall, Angus closed his eyes. The smile in Layla’s voice told him all he needed to know.
‘I take it this means you’ve had a really bad day?’ she said.
‘Yes. It’s been marginally worse than the others, at least,’ Angus replied, then he shook his head. ‘Look, Layla, I need to be honest. I was waiting for a really bad day like you said, but the problem is, they’re all bad days. I know I’ve bent your rule of contact, but I was hoping you’d take a mathematical overview of the situation.’
‘And what does a mathematical overview look like?’
