Page 4 of All Your Lies (All or Nothing #2)

four

Alexa

A s I walk through my door, the thought of canceling my plans with Jenna crosses my mind as I sink deeper into exhaustion.

The aftermath of yesterday’s episode, combined with the late-night sleeping pill and early wake up, left me in a zombie-like state all day.

Dinner in a candlelit bath with a book in hand sounds far more pleasurable than going to a club, but I suspect Jenna wouldn’t approve.

Since bulldozing her way into my life months ago, she’s pulled me out of the house as much as possible.

She’s the social butterfly to my antisocial moth.

Stepping into my kitchen, I open my stainless-steel refrigerator and grab the neck of the half-full bottle of Moscato.

I forgo the glass and drink it straight from the source.

With its notes of peach and grapefruit, the slightly fizzy wine brings back memories of summers in Turin, Italy with my mom’s side of the family.

The last time we visited, we took Rosie, and I may have convinced her to join me in indulging in an entire bottle of sweet wine, just like this one, from the underground wine cellar.

We were so intoxicated that we dozed off amid the flowers, only to be abruptly awoken by the sprinklers dousing us the following morning.

Despite the awful hangover, the memory never fails to bring a smile to my face.

I dial her burner cell, but it goes straight to voicemail again. I never liked the idea of her running by herself. It’s dangerous, but I understand her need to carve her own path and find her happiness. I’m still in the process of finding mine.

I turn on my favorite hip-hop station and begin getting ready for tonight. Though I want to stay in, I realize nights like these will be a distant memory soon, and I should take advantage of the time I have.

Ready by seven fifty, I head over to Jenna’s, not giving her the opportunity to search for me.

I step out onto my porch and my ankle twists on the uneven ground. A low growl escapes my lips as I curse under my breath. I swear I’m so damn clumsy sometimes.

I glance down at my front porch, and my eyes meet a half-smashed red rose. Its vibrant color contrasts against the gray concrete with its silk petals detached and scattered. I bend to retrieve it, then survey the deserted residential street.

I’ve sworn off all men until further notice, so this is a little weird.

Maybe they meant to put this on Jenna’s porch? With a flick of my wrist, I send the crushed rose flying into the manicured bush while its petals scatter in the breeze. Then I walk next door to Jenna’s.

“Knock, knock,” I say through the screen door.

“It’s open,” she yells from the back.

I shake my head at how carefree she is. She doesn’t lock her door.

It’s chaos in her apartment, clothes and shoes abandoned in a haphazard mess, the remnants of last night’s dinner still on the counter, and a single fake eyelash clinging to her entry mirror by a thread. But she’s as happy as can be.

“Damn, look at you. I knew that dress would be perfect,” she says with a mischievous smile and eyebrows wagging.

I run my hand along the tight red leather corset of the midi dress. “It’s so damn tight. Do you know how hard it was to get this thing on by myself? I contemplated rubbing myself down with olive oil at one point. I’ll be lucky not to shred it to pieces when I take it off later.”

“The red leather looks amazing with your porcelain skin and dark hair. Besides, maybe you’ll find someone to take it off for you.”

I scrunch my nose. “I’ll pass. Are you almost ready, crazy?”

“Hell yes!”

When we arrive at our destination, a wave of confusion washes over me. My gaze sweeps across the area, revealing only crumbling, deserted industrial buildings.

I turn to Jenna and raise an eyebrow.

“Oh, where’s your sense of adventure? No judging until we get inside.” She pats my leg, knowing exactly what I’m thinking.

“I’ve heard that before. If I die, I’m coming back to haunt your ass! And where’s inside? It looks empty to me,” I say as my eyes scan our surroundings. Nothing good ever happens in places like this after dark.

“Looks can be deceiving. Let’s go.”

Jenna hops out of the car, leaving me to watch her adjust herself.

She looks completely flawless, as usual.

Her light blue mini dress perfectly complements her eyes, while her heels add at least half a foot to her height, giving her legs for days.

It won’t take over twenty minutes for her to have a guy under her spell.

I scramble out of the car far less gracefully and catch up to her. She links her arm with mine with a smile. “Ready?”

“Not even a little.”

As we round the corner of the building, the soft glow of a lone yellow light catches our attention above a door. Very ominous and serial killer, if you ask me.

We stand in front of the imposing metal door, and Jenna raps on it three times.

A camera positioned in the top right corner with a red blinking light captures our every action.

Accompanied by a piercing screech, a small peephole materialized in the middle of the metal door, causing me to recoil.

It’s quite unsettling. The scene suggests a horror movie featuring someone’s torture in a dungeon, with their tormentor checking on their suffering via a tiny hole.

A lone pair of eyes silently watches us, and we end up in this uncomfortable, weird stare off.

I nudge Jenna with my elbow to get her attention. This was her plan, after all.

“Oh shit. Sorry, Obsidian,” she blurts.

My wide eyes travel to her, and all I can think is she’s lost her fucking mind. “Obsidian?” I hiss.

In a split second, the miniature door slams shut and the enormous door creaks open.

As we walk through, we eye a massive figure. He’s tall and wide and has more facial tattoos than I’ve ever seen.

“Spread your arms and legs.”

“Excuse me?” I arch my brow.

He waves a handheld metal detector in his right hand.

Right.

I spread my arms and legs as the bouncer approaches. He begins at my face, tracing a path down my body until a beep beep on my right thigh forces me to shut my eyes in resignation. I halter my switchblade there so often I rarely notice it.

“Oops,” I say with a nervous smile as I lean down and retrieve it, then hand it to his meaty outstretched mitt of a hand also covered in tattoos.

While the weight of the blade is barely noticeable when it’s on, when it’s off, it leaves behind a lingering emptiness, like a phantom limb. I attempt to mask it, but my nerves surge uncontrollably. I don’t like feeling defenseless.

With curiosity, he gazes down at the switchblade, his fingers deftly pressing the button to retract the long stainless-steel blade. When he looks back at me, his brow is raised in question. Most women carry pepper spray. I probably look like a psychopath.

“Can never be too careful these days, am I right?” I ask with an awkward laugh.

His expression turns stoic as he ignores me and pockets my blade, much to my dismay. Then he turns to Jenna without uttering a word.

She gets into position, and the beeper goes off at her crotch. Her smile is mischievous as she looks at the behemoth of a man with a twinkle in her eye. I hold my breath as I sense the atmosphere shift.

“Just a bomb-ass pussy and a few piercings. You’re more than welcome to check.”

I almost choke as the words leave her mouth. She’s out of her mind.

Stepping back, the man’s arm swings toward the next door, signaling his intention to have us out of his sight.

Jenna sends him a wink before stepping next to me. “Maybe later, sexy.”

“You’re absolutely insane,” I whisper-hiss, making her throw her head back and laugh. Yep, she’s certifiable.

We proceed down the dimly lit hall. The darkness engulfs us like a cave.

My brain finally catches up, and I realize the question I was trying to ask earlier. I interrupt her mid-stride, causing her to come to a sudden halt.

“How’d you know a secret password to a place you’ve never been? And ‘Obsidian’? What kind of open sesame password is that?”

“My coworker told me about this place. She came with some guy. It’s a secret society kind of place,” she whispers.

“Your coworker? The one who’s an escort?”

“She’s a stripper.” She shrugs. “Well, and an escort.”

“Are you out of your mind? Is this place even legal?” I try to keep my voice low, but each question becomes a strained whisper-shout, and my voice rises an octave at the end.

“Yes, this place is legal-ish.”

“Legal-ish? That isn’t even a word!”

She snorts. “First of all, Mrs. Morality Police, your family is the Mafia; you are the Mafia. A little sex club is the smallest of sins you will amass.”

“I’m more worried about getting caught and having to look my dad in the eyes.”

“If it gets raided, we run. No biggie. Though, from what I’ve heard, it’s exclusive to many higher-ups.

Billionaires, CEO’s, senators. I doubt they’d want it to close its doors.

It’s like the ultimate playground for people who like to act prim and proper in public and then let their real selves come out to play. ”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better.”

“Leave your moral compass at the door and free your mind. You’ll be fine for one night,” she says as she pulls me forward.

“Mm-hmm, famous last words,” I say to myself.

I need a drink. Or ten.

As we approach another door, its black leather upholstery stands out strangely amid the surrounding concrete walls.

Jenna twists the knob, and I narrow my eyes as the brilliant white light pours out of the room.

What kind of mind fuckery is this? Both the walls and the marble floors are a pure stark white.

As we enter what seems to be a lobby, a woman in a tight blond bun and dressed in a black pantsuit rises from her desk.

“Welcome to Obsidian. May I scan your identification?”

I pull my ID out of the back of my phone case, opting to be as hands-free tonight as possible.