Page 86 of Ruling Scar
“That’s pretty.” Ren compliments the pearl comb I used to hold my hair back.
“Thanks.” I don’t mention it showed up this morning, a gift from Elijah.
He texted me most of the day and asked if I wanted to eat dinner. I said no thank you.
I’m not being petulant. I’m just not putting all my eggs in one basket. Elijah and I have an arrangement. It’s important I focus on my friends and not just the pretend fairy tale in front of me.
Isolde peers out the massive window, down onto the street. “So is Ivan coming or no?”
“What?”
I had Ferdinand drive me over, but I made him leave. I never once spotted when Ivan picked up the trail. But sure enough, when I come over to the window, the man is leaned up against a brick wall on the opposite side of the street.
“He’s kind of hot,” Isolde comments. “Maybe he should join us.”
This is not the time for flirting. “We can sneak out right?” I ask Ren.
She grins and opens a window.
“Why do I feel like this is where you smoke when you come over here,” I mutter.
“Hey!” Ren shouts. She might be a siren in her skintight black dress, but she’s very unladylike in this moment. She leans forward and Isolde puts a hand on her back like she’s afraid she’ll tip forward in her stilettos. “Your job is to protect her! Not spy on her, you understand!”
I slap a hand to my forehead. “You’re going to make the neighbors mad.”
“No, look, it worked.”
Ivan holds up a thumb, confirming he heard Ren loud and clear.
“See problem solved.” She smirks, and shrugs a coy shoulder. “Unless you wanted him to report back to Elijah.”
“No!” This is girl’s night.
Ren hired a car service to take us to the club. I have very few details on what’s going on and my nerves start to hum the moment we pull up to the curb.
“Come on.” Ren squeezes my hand, all but dragging me out of the car.
There’s a discreet entrance and Ren gives her name to the hostess or door greeter or. . . what does one call the person who checks your name off when you enter a sex club?
The only clubs I know are overly loud dance spaces serving overpriced but weak drinks. Part of me envisioned a big open space where people would drink and watch exhibitionist kinks.
Instead, we’re shown down an oddly quiet hallway. It’s dark and doors line either side.
The attendant opens the door and we’re ushered into a room. There are a few comfortable items to sit on. A chair, a bench.But the main focal point of the room is a large window glimpsing into a room that’s nothing less than a sex play space.
“Is this where we watch people?” I exhale.
“Okay, we’re not actually here to watch people have sex.” Ren must catch something on my face. “I mean. . . like maybe later if you want to?”
“You ever been whipped before?” Isolde asks. I’m glad the question is directed at Ren and not me since heat licks my face.
There’s a resigned expression on Ren’s face like she’s sorry she brought us along.
“I’ve never been,” Isolde admits while openly inspecting the equipment through the window. She’s so open and confident as she speaks. I don’t want to have to admit that I have no business being here.
Stop being ashamed of yourself!
“They serve drinks here?” Isolde asks.
