Page 32 of Prey Tell
I should go and enjoy myself.
It didn’t make sense. It went against everything I ever thought I wanted, or thought I knew. But maybe that was the point.
I’d never doneanythingstrictly for myself, and look where it had gotten me?
I quickly make a mental pros and cons list. This one is different from my last hundred or so, because instead of running the data against Dylan, I run it against Chase. Data never hurts, and in this case, it can only help me, right? Data never lets me down.
As I weigh the pros and cons of both choices, the answer clears and the fog lifts.
Pros: Curious about Chase’s extracurricular activities, I can snoop around his apartment, I need to meet more people that aren’t scholars or grad students, I am newly single, Chase will be there, Iwantto go, I can’t keep wasting time in a life that hardly feels like mine anymore
Cons: Nervous, What if it’s something weird like scat play? (maybe I’d be into that? Or maybe not?), I’ve recorded X-Men to watch next Friday with my favorite ice cream, I could get hurt, or I could get murdered.
I’d be an idiot not to see this out. I’msocurious. Hetouchedme in a way that sent everything into flames—
Maybe I can look at it as research. And also maybe it can be a bigfuck youto Chase Ravage. This is what he gets for underestimating me. He said I couldn’t handle him?
Fucking bet.
CHAPTERSIX
THE LIST
Juliet
Okay, so maybe this was a stupid idea.
I had the taxi drop me off in front of Chase’s apartment building ten minutes ago, and I’m pacing back and forth nervously like a pig going to slaughter. I keep going over the pros and cons list. Obviously I have nothing to lose by taking the elevator up to his penthouse. I’ve been here before—multiple times—so this isn’t new territory. And I know for a fact that Jackson isn’t here. He’s at my house, probably watchingmyrecording of X-men and eatingmyice cream. I wasn’t entirely sure if he bought my excuse of attending a last minute work dinner, but he didn’t say anything as I raced out the door twenty minutes ago.
I pretend to play on my phone, loitering by the closed front door of the building in downtown Crestwood. Several people have walked inside. They look normal. Nice dresses and suits. A few of them are carrying bags which is interesting.What’s inside? Giant dildos, or something crazier?
Shaking my head, I pretend to text someone on my phone as a large group of young women giggle their way through the front door. They give their names to the security guard at the front desk.Fuck.Is my name going to be on the list? Am I going to be turned away before I’m able to ascertain what the hell kind of kinky shit Chase Ravage is into? I feel like a sleuth as I watch them all sign something on a clipboard.Interesting.
Maybe I should’ve come up with a fake name?
I look down at my outfit of choice. I’m wearing a dark red velvet dress that’s about five inches too short. It’s cute for a night out, but it’s not fancy, and now I feel underdressed. My black-heeled boots also feel ridiculous and way too casual.
Fuck it.
I am the queen of overthinking. If I think about this for any longer, I’m going to back out, and then that $24 cab ride into the city will have been for naught. I run my fingers through my hair and walk toward the front door, pulling it open and walking confidently to the man sitting behind the desk.
“Juliet Parker,” I tell the guard. “I’m on the list for the party in the penthouse.”
His eyes scan the list and then he shakes his head. “I’m sorry. You’re not on the list.”
Fuck.
“Chase invited me,” I tell him. “Chase Ravage,” I emphasize, my eyes scanning the elevator behind him as if to drive the point home.
“Sorry, miss. If you’re not on the list, I’m under strict orders not to let you in.”
I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose. “Okay, can you call Chase—”
“She’s with me,” A voice says from behind me.
I spin around to find an unfamiliar man standing in a suit. He’s a few paces behind me apparently watching this all unfold with bemusement. He’s handsome—older, tan complexion, white teeth. Probably in his late thirties. I look at the guard.
“I’m with him,” I say excitedly.
