It's not what you think. We need breakfast.
Please forgive me.
Haze
The bubble of anger burst in my chest, surprising me. He assumed to know what I would think? Arrogant prick. Except I knew what he was thinking, so did that make me just as arrogant? He thought he'd taken advantage of the poor, fragile little girl he was supposed to protect. What he didn't realize was I used him. I'd wanted comfort, and he'd been there. That was all there was to it.
I grabbed my bikini from the floor as I wrapped my sarong around me. It barely covered me as I marched down the stairs and across the driveway. I almost hoped he'd come right up the driveway. When he didn't appear, I slammed the front door behind me and locked it before heading to the shower. I was done thinking about Haze and his hot-cold shit.
In no time at all, I'd selected a sexy sundress that mixed a revealing neckline with an innocent print in the perfect way. I clipped my hair back with plain gold barrettes and didn't bother to dry it. The sun would dry it soon enough, and the curls could take care of themselves.
Like me, I thought.
I lingered for a few minutes over my make-up. There were days I skipped it altogether, but today I wanted to make sure everything was accentuated. When I was done, my eyes were huge, and my red lips puckered in an invincible smirk. I was dressed to kill.
When I was done, I fully expected Haze to be waiting outside, but he wasn't there. I frowned as I peeked out at the driveway. Where had he gone for breakfast, San Diego?
Damn him! Why the hell should I sit around here, waiting for him after he left me with some half-assed note? I needed to leave. It'd serve him right if he came back and found me gone. It was my turn to leave him, and I even considered leaving him a note.
Thanks for just enough to get me back on my feet. I don't need anything more from you.
As I grabbed my purse and headed out to my car, I considered a couple other different wordings, each more vindictive than the last. I sat for a moment in the driver's seat and imagined how great it would be to careen past him as the gates opened, giving him a little wave and a smile. If I left now, I'd be on the PCH and in traffic before he even knew what happened. I adjusted the rear view mirror, then put my key in the ignition.
A cold shadow fell across my shoulders as my mind jumped back to Haze's panic yesterday. I frowned. I'd never confronted him about it, too distracted by Ian's announcement. There'd been something strange in the way he'd been so adamant about getting me to safety. Haze wasn't prone to paranoia. Was there a threat against me?
Now the questions he'd asked the last few days came back to make me wonder. Haze had wanted to know if anyone disliked me. At the time, I'd assumed it'd been his way of teasing me, but now I wasn't so sure. He'd seemed on heightened alert and had questioned my routine. Was there anywhere I went on a regular basis? Did I often run into the same people at the same time?
With that on my mind, I decided I'd skip my regular coffee shop and get an espresso at Paris' favorite hotel. I'd heard she was back in town, and if anyone could help me demean a one-night stand down to nothing, it was her. Still, I held my breath as I started the car and wondered what Haze knew that I didn't. Then again, if anyone wanted to harm me, was it better for me to know or live in blissful ignorance?
The car roared to life, and so did my rebellious streak. Who cared if some crackpot thought I needed to be taken down a peg. Who the hell was going to get to me as locked down as I was? A part of me almost hoped there really was someone after me because Haze would shit a brick when he got back to the house and found me gone.
Maybe it's a Machus family trait, I thought as I gunned the engine and tore into traffic. If Ian could be so cavalier with his life, why couldn't I?
I paused with one long leg out of the car so the valet could look his fill. When his eyes finally met mine, I winked. He flushed as he gave me a breathless smile.
“A little help?” I asked, holding out my hand. I couldn't hold back a little smirk. I did love the rush having power brought with it. Power that had less to do with my name or my bank account and more to do with who I was. At least, the physical me. I wasn't foolish enough to think that anyone wanted the real me.
“Oh, yes, sorry Ms. Machus,” the valet stammered, the red of his skin deepening even more. “We're so glad to have you back at the Four Seasons again.”
I tugged on his hand, brushing too close to him as I exited the car. I chuckled at his sharp intake of breath. A quick glance down told me that the poor guy would need to take a few minutes to collect himself before he'd be presentable again. Nothing made me feel better, stronger, than a little heartless flirting.
“I do love it here,” I purred before stepping around him. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard.
I could only imagine how he would've reacted if I'd been with Paris. Once she realized how embarrassed he was, she would've kept going, pushing as far as she could. She was like that, sensing another person's weaknesses and going after them with a vengeance.
I knew it was ridiculous to think seeing Paris would do me any good. Perhaps it was still the recklessness I felt that drew me to my unreliable friend.
After all, what was the worst she could do? She'd already slept with Ricky and all but bragged about it to my face. Right now, I needed an ally and Paris could be a fierce one. Besides, I didn't really have anyone else.
“Ms. Machus.” The concierge hurried out from behind his desk, a fake beaming smile on his face. “How wonderful to see you again. How can I be of service?”
“Let a girl have a little fun?” I asked with a charming smile. The men I couldn't wrap around my finger with sex appeal at least respected my name and money. “I want to surprise Paris Lockhart, so a key to her room would be perfect.”
The concierge swallowed hard and I could see his brain working overtime. “Ms. Lockhart requested she not be disturbed once her guest arrived yesterday.”
“Oh dear,” I said, giving him a playful smile. “Then we'd better break in and free whatever willing slave she has trapped in there.”
He looked torn. “I'm sorry. I can't do that, Ms. Machus.”
I gave him a sweet smile, the kind a man like him knew came with a threat and a promise. “Then how about you arrange for housekeeping to accidentally leave one of their keycards on that table over there. By the orchid would be just fine.”
He hesitated, but after a moment, gave a small nod.
“I do love it here at the Four Seasons,” I said as I walked over to the table to wait for my key.
A few minutes later, a hotel maid in a crisp black and white uniform paused to water the orchid and placed a keycard on the table. I picked it up and headed to the elevator. I smiled as I thought of the shock I would give Paris when I burst in on her and her current boy toy. Yes, I was going to let her bad decision go, but a little revenge would make it so much easier.
By the time I was within ten feet of her door, I could hear her screams of pleasure. I rolled my eyes as I wondered just how much of that was fake. We compared notes once on how often we had to fake orgasms. My percentage had been lower than hers, but I figured that was because I had no problem finishing myself off whenever Ricky couldn't get the job done.
I unlocked the door and slipped inside. The raucous sex was clearly being held on the balcony, and I laughed when I thought of who might be staring out of their office window and seeing Paris getting plowed. I knew for a fact that she chose the suite on the top floor for exactly that reason.
“Yes! Harder, harder, just do it harder!” Paris shrieked.
Through the open balcony doors, I could see her. Wearing her stiletto heels and nothing else, she was bent over a wrought-iron patio chair. Her hair was pulled back in a tight braid and a tall man had the braid wrapped around his fist, yanking her head back as he rammed into her hard enough to scrape the chair legs across the flagstones. Maybe she wasn't faking after all.
“That's right, baby. Take my cock. Take it just
like that.”
The voice registered a split second before he reached up to ruffle back his shaggy brown hair. Ricky. He wasn't in Monaco any longer and, according to the concierge, my boyfriend had been holed up since yesterday, fucking the brains out of my best friend.
I knew we were in an open relationship, and that I'd slept with Haze, but the fact that Ricky had gone straight to Paris without even calling to tell me he was back broke what little trust we were supposed to have. The entire reason I'd agreed to an open relationship was because I thought it'd make him be more honest with me.
I should've known better.
I wanted to turn and run, but I forced myself to watch, to focus on each image. Him riding her, her back arched. Her ass bouncing against his hips. Her breasts swaying, his hand pulling her hair.
Maybe if they hurt me enough, I could be done with them both forever. And that was what I wanted now. An end to all the lies.
Paris convulsed over the chair, screaming as her climax hit her. He let go of her braid and grabbed both of her hips, driving her back and forth harder and harder until he finally yanked out of her and came on her back, throwing his face up to the sun as he shuddered.
Then it was over and I knew I should go. I didn't want to be here for the aftermath, didn't want to talk to either of them...
“Shit, Ricky! It's Leighton!” Paris's shrill voice cut through the air.
I closed my eyes for a brief second before opening them again. There was no point in avoiding it anymore.
“Leighton?” Ricky blinked, his eyes still slightly glazed.
“Leighton, what are you doing here?” Paris asked. She didn't even bother to try to hide her nakedness as she came toward me. “This was just a mistake. You weren't supposed to find out.”
“So that would make it okay?” I asked, keeping my voice low and in control. “Keeping it from me? Him, I get. He's a cheating ass and I was an idiot to think that an open relationship meant he'd be more honest with me. But you? You're supposed to be my friend.”
Ricky turned now and I could see the panic in his light blue eyes as he finally registered my presence. “This was nothing, babe. We agreed it was okay, remember?”
“No, Ricky,” I snapped. “We agreed that we'd be honest with each other about what we were doing and with who. You came home and went straight to her. You don't care about me. You just care about your dick.”
“Come on, babe,” he pleaded with me. “You know I love you. She's just something to do.”
“'Just something to do'?” Paris asked, her pretty face twisting into a scowl. “You were right, Leighton. He's an ass. He can show himself out.”
I recoiled as Paris tried to reach for me. I shook my head. “A mistake is a one-time thing, understandable even. Fucking for an entire day is deliberate.” I looked from her to him and back again. “You know what, you want each other so bad? Go right ahead, I don't need either of you.”
“I don't want her, Leighton. I love you!” Ricky scrambled to grab a rumpled shirt off the back of the couch as I stalked towards the door, determined not to run. “You're the only woman I've ever loved. You have to believe me.”
“I don't have to do anything.” I didn't even look at him as I opened the door. “And I sure as hell don't have to listen to you anymore.”
I slammed the door behind me and walked toward the elevator, ignoring the pleas coming from behind me. I was through listening to anyone, through doing anything except what I wanted to do. If no one cared about me, then I wasn't going to give a shit about anyone.
To hell with them all.
Chapter 9
Leighton
I made it to my car, for once glad when I got stuck in traffic a few minutes later. I had no idea where to go or what to do. Grandfather's house only reminded me that Ian was leaving. The beach always soothed me, but I couldn't go back to Ricky's beach house.
For the first time in my adult life, it hit me that I didn't have a place I truly considered to be home.
Somewhere inside the screaming mess of my thoughts there came a quiet, devious voice telling me this was all for the best. It whispered at me to smash everything, ruin it all. I thought about rock bottom, and how once I got there, I'd never have to be afraid of sinking lower. Everyone always said the best thing about hitting rock bottom was, after that, there was nowhere to go but up.
I didn't want to go up though. I just didn't want to sink any lower. Maybe if I finally hit bottom, everyone would just leave me alone.
I needed a drink. Or three.
The long, tangled line of cars finally started to move, and I felt better now that I had a direction to go. Straight down. The only thing I needed now was to find a place where no one would think to look for me while I made my descent.
It was early, the time of day my group of friends usually had late lunches on sunny patios...if they weren't still nursing their hangovers. If Ricky and Paris bothered to look for me at all, it'd be at one of our rooftop or ocean view restaurants. All I had to do to avoid them was think of the darkest, seediest bar I knew.
I also had to ditch my car. If Haze was looking for me, as I had no doubt he was, all he had to do was pull the GPS info. For all I knew, he'd already done it and was only minutes behind me.
I pulled into the Hilton and let the valets take away my car. As my car disappeared with my phone still in it, I felt free. No way to find me, no one to stop me.
The valet hailed a cab as I pulled money from the Hilton's lobby ATM. No car, no phone, no credit cards. Haze would have a hard time tracking me. And he'd never think to look for me where I was going.
“Seventh Circle,” I said as I climbed into the cab.
He drove away from the curb, but I felt his eyes checking and rechecking me as we wove through traffic. “Are you sure, miss? It's called Seventh Circle for a reason. As in the Seventh Circle of Hell.” He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, but it was clear from his expression that he felt the need to clarify even further. “It's one of those dungeon clubs where people dress up like vampires and all that shi-stuff.”
I laughed, but the sound made me cringe. “That's the place,” I said. I gave him a smile in the mirror. “Let's just say I have a date with the devil.”
He pursed his lips and drove in silence until we pulled up next to the alley opening. A red neon arrow pointed down the alley where another smaller sign blinked down a stone staircase.
He spoke again as I pulled out the cash I needed. “I'm telling you, miss, that's no place for a nice girl like you.”
I tossed a couple bills at him. “Too bad you don't know me.” I didn't give him a chance to respond as I climbed out of the cab and slammed the door behind me.
I paused on the sidewalk as I dug in my purse and pulled out a black satin ribbon. I'd torn it off a dress a few days ago and shoved it into my purse. Now it would serve a different function.
I tied it around my neck with a pert bow, making a choker necklace that was a perfect contrast to my white dress. I would glow in the club's backlights and attract the maximum attention. My heart pounded at the thought. This was just what I needed.
I took out my gold barrettes and fluffed my now-dried curls. The stone steps were steep and I descended slowly, enjoying the sensation of disappearing from my normal life. Thick black doors padded with red vinyl swallowed me whole and I stood in the heavy darkness, holding my breath until my eyes adjusted.
Seventh Circle was more crowded than I'd hoped at this early hour. Knots of young people in various shades of black and heavy eyeliner lined the bar and the dance floor. I'd heard about the club from Paris when she'd had a brief fling with a Goth poet, but I'd never been there. I didn't want to think about her, but I remembered that she'd said the drinks were cheap, and the drugs easy to find. I sauntered to the bar, my dress glowing purple under the black lights.
“Shot of tequila, top shelf,” I said. “Glad to see there's a top shelf in Hell.”
The bartender swung her black braid as s
he turned toward me. “Shots are free for human sacrifices.”
I laughed and studied her heavy black make-up. The thick cat eyes framed impossibly light green eyes, a color so pale that they were nearly white. Her cheekbones were high and dramatically blushed, her lipstick a solid blood red. She was stunning and staring at me as openly as I looked at her. I wondered if she made a habit of seducing newbies.
I gestured for another tequila shot.
“I'd watch out, Zoey. That's not a human sacrifice. That's the Devil herself,” a black-haired man a few feet down the bar spoke up.
I raised an eyebrow. “You know me?” I nearly laughed at the question. Of course, he didn't know me. No one knew me.
“I do,” he said as he pushed himself off the bar and walked toward me. “I've seen your picture in the tabloids.”
Right.
I slammed the next shot Zoey handed me and felt the alcohol start to take hold. “Then you know I'm here to party.”
I didn't even ask his name as I dragged him onto the dance floor. Time blurred around me, swirling in time with the music. We swayed and ground against each other. Then the dance floor got crowded so I moved to a tabletop. Then up to the V.I.P. balcony where the black-haired man handed me a joint. It wasn't until I was doing a body shot of tequila off Zoey's bare stomach that I realized the flashes around me weren't from the club's lighting.
The dark-haired man was a photographer. I straightened, swaying on my high heels. I wasn't sure if I wanted to hit him or kiss him and give him something to really write home about.
Before I could decide, however, someone knocked the camera from his hands. I blinked blearily, and then sighed.
“Haze? How did you find me?”
Chapter 10
Haze
I knew Leighton was in trouble when I found the alley with the red neon arrow. I may have grown up in Kansas, but I wasn't some small-town hick from the middle of nowhere. This was bad.