Page 28 of Wreckin' Amethyst

Thanking us for our time, the reporter moves onto the next round of guests to arrive as we make our way inside. Catapulted into a world of sheer indulgence, all of my senses are brought to life. The rolling perfume of suede and eucalyptus trees positioned by a waterfall at the back of the room interweave like destined lovers. Music plays softly, the wave of a violin which complements the waterfall instead of combating it. Chandeliers hang from high ceilings, casting a warm glow over the marble floors below. The walls are adorned with intricate murals and art pieces, adding an artistic flair. Plush seating arrangements have been scattered throughout, deeming this as a more civilized meeting area.

The bar of Elysium, however, is a masterpiece in itself. Spanning the length of the room, showcasing the most premium of spirits and rare wines, those working behind the black and gold counter craft cocktails of all colors. In the same black shirts and slacks, bartenders await at empty booths to take orders. Taking a step in that direction, I crash into a wall of black and white which wasn’t there a moment before. A hand automatically finds my waist, amber eyes consuming me in their feverish depths.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Myles rasps as if it pains him. As if he’s been stalking me since the moment I stepped through the door and couldn’t resist telling me. His blond hair is pulled back into a bun, his face freshly shaven to reveal the strength of his jawline. On this occasion, he wears his suit with pride, top button fastened above a black tie. I toy with the satin length of it, before remembering myself and dropping my arm back to my side.

“You don’t fix up too bad yourself,” I settle on, needing to reassert boundaries. The last time I saw this man, I was telling him about a past life I’ve never told anyone. Not even Charley. That possibly makes him my closest ally, despite barely knowing him.

“Is everything okay? The emergency…” Myles trails off as his gaze dips to mine and Sebby’s hands, still tightly clasped. The man in question tenses, his fingers attempting to retreat but I hold him firm. This was his choice; he’s not allowed to back out now.

“All good here. Sebby needed help picking out his shoes, and in turn took me shopping.” My lips remain upturned, my eyes watching keenly for Myles’ reaction and boy, there’s a lot to see. Jealousy, confusion. Clenched jaw, a brief narrowing of eyes before Myles finds a forced smile to present.

“I’m glad someone was able to spoil you,” he states in a tone which contradicts his words. Luckily, someone calls his name and Myles excuses himself, putting me back on my mission to reach the bar. I need a drink more than ever, my gut a swirling mess of I-don’t-fucking-know-what. Sliding onto a stool with more grace than the high-slit in my skirt should allow, I finally release Sebby to signal to the bartender. Two strawberry daiquiri coming up.

“It won’t work, you know. Using me to make Myles jealous.” Sebby mutters as the bartender sets up before us. As he turns to fetch the strawberries and ice, I take the rum bottle and tip it over my parted lips until Sebby scrambles to put it back in place.

“Perhaps I was doing the opposite,” I shrug, licking my lips. “Allowingyouto usemeto make him jealous. Trust me, if one of us ends up in Myles’ bed tonight, it sure as shit isn’t going to be me.” Leaning on my elbows, I make small talk with the bartender, letting him woo me with his vigorous thrusting of the shaker. Sebby spins my stool, forcing me to look into his sullen grey eyes.

“There’s no distracting Myles when he has a new fascination. He won’t stop until he’s had you. I’m just…around for when he’s bored, horny and lacking options.” Pity douses the exciting prospect I might just enjoy tonight. In the background, an announcer speaks into a microphone, saying something about the grand opening but I’m too focused on the man before me. Attractive, loyal, guarded, withdrawn. Raising my hands to cup Sebby’s cheeks, he bristles as if I’m about to kiss him again. He’d be lucky.

“You’re worth more than being someone’s plaything, Sebby,” I push his hair aside to stare into his grey eyes. “But I get it. We all put ourselves second when it comes to those we love.” And just like that, the weight of the day falls on my shoulders. The memories, the emotions I keep suppressed. I haven’t let myself mourn since the day I hid behind a tree to witness my mother’s burial. Out of everyone who came, I only recognized my aunt. Police patrolled the graveyard, hunting for the missing girl who seemingly racked up thousands of dollars in debt and left her mother to die alone. I kept the knowledge of what really happened that day to myself, not trusting anyone else to extract my revenge. Until now.

“I’m sorry,” Sebby whispers, drawing me back to this moment. I’m still cupping his face, idling stroking his cheek bones. “Wherever you just went – I’m sorry for it all.” The pity is reversed and I despise the bitter taste of it on my tongue. Although I know Sebby doesn’t mean to condescend me. Somehow in this lost and twisted world of power, we’ve found some common ground. A reason to stick together against those closing in on us.

Sitting back on my stool, I blow out a steady breath and see our drinks are ready. Complete with pink and orange umbrellas. Suddenly, I know I’m going to need something far stronger.

“Do you mind?” I ask the two men on my other side and take their whiskey glasses without waiting for an answer. Handing one to Sebby, I link arms with him and plaster on that smile I’ve learned to wear like a shield. “Come on. Let’s get all shades of fucked up.”

Chapter 19

“Uhhuh,”Iabsentmindedlyagreed to whatever the woman beside me is saying. Raising the coke bottle to my lips, I yearn for something stronger whilst taking a long sip. The entire time, my eyes are glued to Amethyst in the crowd below. Strobe lights bounce off her purple hair as she moves, dancing like nobody's watching. But I am.

There hasn’t been a moment since I entered Elysium that she has been out of my sight. Especially after I stood on the stage and relayed the speech Carter wrote for me, whilst she was cupping Sebby’s face. Touching him. Drinking with him. When they left hand in hand for the stairwell to the nightclub floor, I ditched the microphone and took after them.

“Sounds riveting,” I reply again when my current company pauses her idle chatter long enough to indicate I should answer. From the balcony, I have an open view of the dance floor below. Bodies jump and dance shoulder to shoulder, the speakers dotted around the lower level immersing them in a DJ remix of 90’s anthems.

I’d give anything to throw my reputation in the gutter and rush down there to join her. But if it’s not the tabloids or my father’s expectations breathing down my neck, it’s Carter. Sprawled across a suede sofa, his eyes are closed as he smokes a joint. My best friend, who gave up his own life to save mine. I can’t fail Carter because he’s never let me fall.

“Can I cut in?” Owen comes to my rescue, shooing the woman away to sneakily hand me a shot of vodka.

“You’re a lifesaver. But also, you’re fucking late.” Tossing back the shot, I savor the burn and return the glass to Owen before Carter sees. Dressed casual as fuck, Owen smirks and leans over the railing in his white t-shirt and dark jeans.

“What can I say? Business is booming right now. How’s our girl doing?” I grunt. Our girl? Owen has barely taken an interest in her except to steal her puppy, but then again – the Sebby and Amethyst hand-holding thing blindsided me so what do I know? Leaving his question unanswered, I change the subject.

“Do you ever wish you’d just let me rot in jail? Moved on with your lives and let me find my own way?”

“Jesus Christ, one shot and we’re back here again. This is why you’re not allowed to drink in public.” Putting the Coke back in my hand, Owen turns to face the balcony instead. The security guards at the base of the stairs have free selection on the women they allow up here, a mini dance party forming itself in the back corner in a bid to get our attention. Aside from those behind the private bar, we’re the only other men and as Sebby appears in the VIP section, our mini tribe is seemingly complete.

“The party’s back here Myles,” Owen tries to nudge me. “We can tag team, just like the old days.” Not a chance. My heart has picked up a beat in my chest with the sight of Sebby, and not from the rise of jealousy I’m struggling to squash. If he’s up here, there’s no one down there watching over Amethyst.

Shoving Owen and Sebby aside, I fly down the stairs two at a time. Carter, shouting after me, is drowned out by the speakers as I barge past the security guards and weave through the dance floor. She’s easy to find, considering the only margin of space between the dancers is the one Amethyst creates. Approaching her back, I freeze, unsure of what I was going to do at this point. So, I skid to a stop and simply watch.

She’s magnetic. Drawing the attention of everyone nearby without even trying. Soaking in the beat of the heavy bass, Amethyst moves to the undercurrent rhythm, at odds with those jumping and fist pumping all around. Turning in a leisurely circle, I brace myself for her to see me, but her eyes are closed. Swaying arms, swirling fingers flick through the air, beckoning me to join.

I step into the roll of her hips, hovering on the edge of touching her. Of pulling her to me and holding her tight, just in the hopes she’ll not push me away. I want everything she is. Everything she has. Passion, freedom, confidence. Amethyst holds the key to releasing me from my binds, because if anyone could break down Carter’s walls, it’d be her.

“What the fuck is this, Grandpa?” Amethyst blurts out. I’d been so captivated by her body, I hadn’t realized she’d opened her eyes. Taking the Coke bottle still held in my hand, Ami gives it to a stranger nearby. Then, from her cleavage, she produces a corked test tube of bright blue liquid. Tugging the cork out with her teeth and spitting it across the crowd, she tries to tip the liquid into my mouth but I dodge aside.

“I can’t indulge in any form of addiction in public. The paparazzi-”

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