He slapped his hands on my waist, as if I belonged to him, and forced me in closer so that we were cheek-to-cheek.
“You’re married?” I asked.
“Yes.”
That was all the excuse I needed. I pushed him away, but he grabbed my hips and pulled me in.
“You shouldn’t be dancing with me!” I glared at him.
“I can do whatever I like. Relax, enjoy yourself.”
Managing to release his hand as he spun me, I briefly glimpsed Brooke with the French boy in tow. He stood behind her, looking bemused, at the bottom of the stairway. She beamed at me, seemingly happy to catch me dancing with a wealthy-looking guy.
I shouldn’t have responded so obviously, flashing my glance straight from her to Jonah, who was engrossed entirely by the stripper, his back to Brooke. She followed my stare and I watched her wobble for a moment as she took him in. She nodded at me and, seizing the French beau by the collar, she strode back up the stairs and disappeared.
I thought for a second that I saw Jonah glance up, and I couldn’t tell if he had seen her. Bradley was behind me in seconds, scooping me back to him and throwing me into an unwanted dip. Shuffling uncomfortably out of his grip again, I twisted around, trying to find Jonah. He was gone.
As the emotional song came to a wavering end, he led me back over to the bar and commanded another vodka for me, setting himself up with a line of shots.
Jonah’s girl was perched on a stool, eyeing me as if I was something she’d trodden on. Speaking loudly in broken English to the barman, she was telling him that she was waiting for her customer to return. I could only assume that she wanted me to know Jonah was coming back.
“I need the bathroom,” I said to Bradley. “Will you excuse me?”
I broke away from him, but as I jumped off the stool, he grabbed my wrist tightly and replied, “I have the next dance.”
I made my way to the WC, weaving between the rotating bodies. I yanked the door open and found three cubicles inside, all of which were empty. I splashed water on my face to cool my cheeks and rearranged myself in the magnified mirror, smoothing the top and yanking down the stupidly short skirt.
My phone buzzed. Brooke was calling me.
“Hello?”
“Cessie, come back upstairs, they’re playing some great tunes! You’re missing out!” she shouted, though the music in the background sounded faint and distant.
“Where are you?” I asked.
“Upstairs of course. Come back, I’ll meet you at the bar!”
“I’ve lost Jonah. Shouldn’t we find him?”
“Jonah? Erm, no. It’s fine, I just saw him. Listen, don’t worry, he’ll meet us later. Please come back upstairs!”
Brooke’s sudden interest in my company was strange, but I decided to play ball. I wanted to escape Bradley anyway. I might as well go and see if I could convince her to leave; I suddenly wasn’t in the mood for what this place had to offer.
And I was ready to call Gabriel.
I opened the door and as I scanned the space ahead of me, a small corridor—hidden almost out of sight—caught my attention. Written in French but with the English translation underneath, something about the DO NOT ENTER sign enticed me toward it.
Placing the mask back over my face, I stepped forward. Cloaked in darkness, a vast array of doors ran down the long stretch of carpet. There was no bouncer here; this was a strictly private area, where members came not wanting to be seen.
I’d passed three doors when I heard the faint moan of a woman, and I hesitated, stopping outside one of the rooms. Maybe I was emboldened by the vodka. But I gave in to a sudden urge, and I kicked the door. It swung open obediently, bouncing loudly off the wall as it hit the exposed brick.
On the opposite side of the room, the dark-haired girl was pinned against the plasterboard wall, her leg wrapped around Jonah’s hip.
He immediately released his grip, bowing his head down in my direction, but never bringing his face up to meet my eyes. He knew it was me.
The fact that he refused to meet my gaze told me he was ashamed that I had caught him with her. Though I couldn’t be sure in that moment exactly what it was I had found him doing.
If he was feeding, he had broken his promise to me. If she was in the middle of putting out, I highly doubted he’d want me to know, let alone see that either.
I reeled backward as though I had been punched square in the jaw. My insides coiling in a tight knot, I was suddenly overcome with anguish. Why? Why did he make me feel like this?
It felt as though the answer to that question was hidden in plain sight.
“Cessie—” Jonah began in a low voice.
My name fell to an empty doorway. I was already falling over my feet, hurrying to get away; I didn’t want to talk to him. I wanted to go home.
TWENTY-THREE
I MARCHED SWIFTLY, my eyes fixated on the EXIT sign next to the bar. I muddled through the smoke-filled air across the dance floor, but my wobbly sprint came to an abrupt halt as a hand grabbed my arm firmly.
“Now then, you still owe me a proper dance. And this time maybe don’t speak.” There was nothing polite about him, especially the way he emphasized “proper” with a dreadful undertone.
Bradley had already yanked me backward, showing no sign of releasing me. He blew a puff of smoke from a Cuban cigar that he held lazily in his right hand, and his eyes glowered expectantly. I could tell by his dilated pupils that he had consumed too many straight shots.
“Maybe another time,” I replied, attempting to loosen his grip. I didn’t want to cause a scene. I just wanted to leave.
“Come now, one dance and a drink won’t kill you—I’ve hardly gotten to know you yet!” His grip had tightened, and I began to feel flustered. He wasn’t referring to swapping childhood memories, of that I was quite sure.
As he maneuvered his chest flush with my own, I started to manufacture an argument, but I didn’t have time to propose it. A strong and protective hand found mine, and with one swift tug, I was pulled away from Bradley’s grasp.
“I’m gonna have to take this dance.” Jonah’s eyes prickled, and as Bradley began to protest, he stopped, taking in Jonah’s fierce expression.
“Oookay,” he said as he stumbled away with no objection.
Jonah took me lightly by the waist, twisting his fingers under the hem of my skirt, and stroked my hips as he began to sway me in time to the music. “Can’t go anywhere without attracting attention to yourself, can you?”