Page 15 of Dance of Defiance

A slight smirk twists my lips. “I think Bane’s right. Keep bitching about it and you’re out of the cool club.”

“Good,” Laz sighs, taking a sip of the beer in front of him.

“Seriously, what are you drinking?” Bane frowns, running a tattooed hand through his hair.

“A beer?”

“At the Russian Tea Room?” Bane shakes his head ruefully. “This is a fucking disgrace.”

Laz flips him off. “It’s called hair of the dog.”

“It’s called sack up and get a real drink like an adult, you fucking goober,” Bane sighs. He turns to shoot me a look. “Can you believe this guy?”

I force a smile to my face. “In fairness, last nightdidget…” I shrug.

Ludicrous. That’s what last night got. After I drove back to the city, probably breaking every highway speed record known toman along the way, I called up these two and convinced them to come out with me.

We wenthard, and believe me, when it's the three of us, that’s saying something.

I’m not even sure what I told them was the reason for my downrightaggressivedrinking last night. ButIknow why.

To chase the memory away.

To make myself forget.

To remind myself that I’m in charge, and not beholden to the corruption that swirls inside me.

The irony that I drink to what most people would call “excess” to stay in control isn’t lost on me. But last night, that’s exactly what it was: a necessary measure to wrest power back from whatever darkness inside me was allowed to take over back at the house.

Withhim.

Val.

I flinch as I knock back the rest of my glass and reach for the bottle in the middle of the table.

I've barely stopped drinking since last night. I can’t.

Because when I start to slow down, I start to remember the way that fucker pinned me down. Worse, the way I didn’t fight it.

I’ve tried to convince myself that Icouldn’t. I mean, yes, he was a lot fucking stronger than I ever imagined he’d be. But still, it was only half Val's arm strength.

The other half was that a part of me…a part that I have gone to insane lengthsneverto acknowledge, even to myself…made itself far too known last night.

I’ve been trying to drown it with alcohol ever since.

“Hey, speaking of bras.” I quickly change the subject, if only to stop my thoughts from spiraling and my memories from lingering too long on strong, veined, tattooed forearms. On dark hair, heavy brows, a chiseled jawline, and piercing blue eyes…

I toss back another huge gulp of vodka and then level a look at Laz.

“How’d things go with that girl you were all wrapped up in last night?”

A wicked smirk crosses his lips. “A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell.”

“Please. Youtrying to convince anyone that you’re in any way, shape or form agentlemanis pure fucking comedy,” Bane grunts.

Laz flips him off.

“What about you, Antonov?” I grin at Bane. “I saw that chick hanging all over you at that last place.” My brow furrows.