Page 87 of Ruling Scar
“Alcohol would be lovely,” I agree.
Ren glances around the empty room and then through the window. The other room is still empty.
“This is normally where they like to be,” she says more to herself since I have no idea what’s going on in her head. “But yeah, let’s get a drink.”
“Hang on, hang on.” Isolde stops us and takes out her phone. “Take my picture.”
“You’re not supposed to have that,” Ren points out. It was the one thing they asked of us when we got here.
“Oh right, I’m sorry, wasn’t that your burner phone you locked up,” Isolde questions.
Ren rolls her eyes, whipping out a cell phone that she tucked God knows where.
I take my phone out of my dress pocket.
“Do you ever wear a dress without pockets?” she asks.
I wrinkle my nose. “No.”
I hand her my phone, stupidly excited to document this historic moment.
Isolde’s a tomboy but she knows how to pose like the best of them. Between the fierce look on her face and her sharp tux, she looks damn good.
“Here, your turn.” She gestures for me to take her place.
“Okay, Bambi eyes.” Ren’s been relegated to photographer. “Turn around and look over your shoulder.”
“Coy,” Isolde instructs. “You got that innocent thing going on.”
On cue, I blush at her words.
“Bite your lip,” Isolde says. They’re both acting like this is a legitimate photo shoot.
Ren smiles mischievously when she hands me my phone. “Post them on your Insta stories.”
“Then people are gonna know we snuck in our phones.”
“Yeah, because they’re monitoring your social media.” Ren looks at me the same way my sisters do. “Come on live a little.”
Maybe she’s not wrong. My Instagram is updated rarely and I never use stories. But for once I’ve got Saturday night plans and when do I ever dress up like this?
Isolde and Ren crowd around me, picking out which photos to post.
“Oh, hang on, wait,” Ren stops me. “You need a picture of the bar.”
“The bar?”
“Yes, it looks fucking amazing trust me.”
“People are going to know I brought my phone.”
“Oh my God and then what happens?” Ren throws her hands in the air. “They kick you out of the sex club.”
“It’s all about timing,” Isolde adds, opening the door. “Come on, I’ll help make sure you don’t blow your cover.”
“You two are a bad influence,” I tell them. But I trudge along, excited to see more of this sex club.
CHAPTER 20
