Page 5 of How to Hack a Hellhound (Hellhounds of Paradise Falls #2)

Chapter 5

Quinton

T his was a bad idea. I knew it was a bad idea. I walked into Bliss anyway.

The door from the parking lot led down a long hallway, and I could feel the bass of the club music in my chest before I even made it to the second entry door, where the bouncers stood. Not much of a line, and I got in quickly enough.

I made my way to a back wall away from the dance floor to get my bearings. I hadn’t thought about what I would say if I saw anyone I knew, but it was a Thursday night, and my old crew was most often here on weekends.

Bliss was still pretty packed. Apparently Thursday was the new Friday.

I looked around, and I saw a few familiar faces, but no one who really knew me. No one who I’d partied regularly with or hung out with outside the club. I breathed a sigh of relief. I didn’t want to see those people. I didn’t want to pretend that I’d just been finding myself or some shit for a few weeks.

None of my “friends” would really care, anyway. I was bitter about it for a minute, but they weren’t bad people. It was as much my fault as theirs. I had never let anyone in.

“Hey beautiful,” I heard a voice say next to me. I looked over to see a tall, muscular guy leaning against the wall. I just shook my head, and he shrugged and wandered off.

What the fuck was I doing here? It was like the bass in the music was taking over my heart, replacing it with nothing but sound and thumping. I tried to focus on something else, looking at the dance floor, but it was all grinding bodies, arms waving, naked chests, hands groping. I looked away, letting my eyes wander around, looking for… I don’t know what.

My eyes stopped on a man who was staring at me. He was standing next to one of the cocktail type tables they had scattered around the place. He was tall, and he looked pretty muscular underneath his dress shirt. A dark dress shirt should’ve looked out of place here, but instead it just looked incredibly sexy on him. He had short dark hair, stubble, and a chiseled face with beautiful eyes. I couldn’t tell exactly what color they were from here, but they were light against his sharp eyebrows.

A figure cut in front of us, and I realized I’d been staring and quickly looked away. I couldn’t help taking a peek back, though, and the guy was still staring at me.

Usually I’d take it as interest, and I’d saunter over and flirt. But this guy looked polished and suave, and I couldn’t help being paranoid. Marcus had frequented this club. He’d known a lot of people. I didn’t trust my judgment of people anymore, and finding him attractive did not mean I could trust him.

Maybe showing up here alone wasn’t the best way to look into Marcus and his cronies. It would probably be even more suspicious if I just left, though. I’d get a drink, put a smile on my face for the bartenders, and then I’d get the fuck out of here. I could admit I hadn’t thought this through. I just felt the need to do something .

I walked over to the bar, my spine itching like I was still being watched. I sidled up and grabbed a seat just as someone vacated it. I recognized the bartender—his name was James, and he’d served me plenty of times. His eyes widened when he saw me, then he walked over.

“Man! I haven’t seen you in ages! Where you been?” he asked, looking around.

“Oh, you know, took a break from the club scene. Tried dating life,” I lied.

He barked out a laugh, still staring a little oddly at me. I guess I didn’t seem like the dating type. I’d been in here hooking up with a new guy every week.

He put a napkin in front of me. “Dating life sucks,” he said, winking at me. “The usual?”

“Nah, just a soda,” I said.

He scoffed, and I turned away from his prying eyes to look around. The sexy guy was still staring at me, only he didn’t wink or nod or anything—he just stared. Goosebumps traveled across my body, and I had to make an effort to drag my eyes away as James put a coke in front of me.

“You know that guy over there in the dress shirt?” I asked him, gesturing slightly with my head toward the man as I took a drink.

James looked over and shook his head. “No, but he’s looking your way, and he’s sexy as sin. Looks like you have a new conquest already.” He winked at me again.

I shrugged. As much as that guy looked like sex on a stick, that wasn’t why I was here. James wandered off to take some orders while I sipped my soda, but he ended up in front of me again in a couple minutes.

“You look a little heartbroken. Who were you dating?” he asked. He grabbed a cloth, wiping down the bar and not looking at me. “Was it that guy Marcus? We all heard about what happened.”

I flinched at Marcus’s name, and James looked at me, eyes boring into mine until I looked away. I took another drink, thinking about what to say. “I wasn’t…” I started, but a wave of vertigo washed over. I suddenly felt like the walls were closing in on me, like my heart was racing. What the fuck?

“Hey, man, it’s ok. Take a deep breath,” he said. Then he called out, “Scotty, take over.” Next thing I knew, he was next to me, grabbing my arm and helping me up. “Too much to drink?” he asked jokingly, and a few guys on barstools laughed.

I couldn’t process it. I hadn’t had anything to drink. I looked over toward where the man had been watching me, like seeing his eyes would bring me back to myself, but he wasn’t there. Had he ever been there?

Everything was fuzzy, the ground tilting around me. “I don’t… I’m not ok,” I said to James. “I think someone… I think…” but I couldn’t get it out. Something was wrong, but my legs weren’t working right, my brain was fuzzy, and all I could keep thinking was that I was not ok. Something was not ok. “There was a guy…” I started.

James led me toward the side wall and through a door. “You think some guy gave you some bad shit?” James asked as he led me down a hallway and into an office, supporting me.

“Didn’t take anything,” I mumbled, my mouth working hard to form the words.

He sat me down in a chair, kneeling in front of me. “You’re having a panic attack,” he told me. “You’ll be ok.”

But that wasn’t right. I wasn’t feeling panicked. I felt like I was floating an inch next to my body, everything slow and fuzzy. I shook my head dazedly.

“It started when I brought up Marcus. What happened to Marcus, Q?” he asked me.

“Marcus is dead,” I whispered, relief flowing through me. I wasn’t having a panic attack, because Marcus was dead. My brain was sluggish, but I looked up at James, whose eyes were staring into mine. I hadn’t taken anything. I’d only drunk a soda.

A soda he gave me.

“You…” I started, but I didn’t want to believe it. James was a friend. Sort of. A flirt. The bartender we all liked best. “You gave me a drink,” I mumbled. “You gave me… something.”

The door opened with a splintering sound at that moment, and the guy from out in the bar walked in, shutting the door behind him. I looked up at him, my head falling back against the chair. He was so tall . And so cute. I smiled at him, unable to resist. He looked me up and down before turning to James.

James. Yes. I was drugged. James had drugged me. “I shouldn’t have come here,” I murmured, barely aware I was talking out loud.

“No, it wasn’t the finest decision you’ve made lately,” the man said.

James stood up. “Can I help you?” he asked.

The man looked at James, and then his hand was flashing out, and James was on the floor, and my brain was flashing big PANIC signs, but my body wasn’t cooperating at all, because all I could manage was a slow roll of my head to look down at an unconscious James.

“This is bad,” I slurred. “Very bad.”

The man came over and lifted my head, prying one eyelid open for a moment and then resting a hand on my wrist. He leaned in and sniffed my breath.

“He gave me coke,” I said. “But not, like, coke the drug, like coke with the polar bears. I always liked those polar bears. Cute polar bears.”

I did like those polar bears. So warm and snuggly looking, and thinking about them was nice. Better than thinking about whatever the fuck was about to happen. I tried to get up, but my legs wobbled underneath me, and the man caught me under the arm. He pushed me into the chair, and things went… wonky.

It was like snapshots.

I drank from a water bottle he held up to my lips.

He helped me walk out a back door, and I thought James was thrown over his other shoulder.

I sat in a passenger seat, and he was putting something in the trunk. I tried to move my legs to get out of the car, only he was there, pushing them back in, reclining my seat, fastening my seatbelt, and closing my door.

“Shhh…” he whispered, getting into the driver’s seat. “You just rest now and let that shit get out of your system.”

“I don’t wanna…” I mumbled, thinking that I didn’t want to die. I didn’t want to be sold or raped or killed or whatever was about to happen.

“Rest, Quinton,” the voice commanded, and there was a firm hand on the nape of my neck, drawing my head down to rest against the seat, and then there was blackness.

Something was banging, and I thought maybe I’d overslept, and the banging was coming from the door. Only I turned my head, and the ache that shot through it made me realize the banging was inside , not outside. My heart was a drum beat in my brain.

I laid still and tried to figure out what the hell was going on, and then I remembered the bits and pieces from last night. My eyes shot open, and I groaned at the little light that was coming in through a mostly drawn curtain.

I was not in my bed. I was not in my apartment. There was a warm body at my back, and I had no idea who the fuck it was.

My breathing stopped for a moment, and then I took stock. I had on sweatpants and a t-shirt. My head felt like shit, but my body felt… ok. My throat wasn’t sore, and my ass didn’t hurt. My left leg felt vaguely bruised, but otherwise, I didn’t feel like I normally would after a night of sex.

The room was… nice. I faced a gray-colored wall, minimally decorated but clean, and there was a nightstand with water and orange juice on it next to the bed. There was a window by the foot of the bed with dark blue curtains that only let a sliver of light in. The door had to be on the other side of the bed.

I slowly scooted toward the wall, sort of rolling off the bed and stifling the groan that wanted to escape at moving my aching head. I could do this. I’d had hangovers that were worse than this. I could sneak out of here, and get away from…

I looked up at the bed, and my heart stopped.

Aiden was laying there, sound asleep.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” I whimpered, scooting back against the wall, holding my head in my hands and rocking. They’d gotten Aiden? I hadn’t thought about my roommate. I’d thought he was safe. He should have been home, inside a nice locked apartment with a security alarm. No, that wasn’t right either. Kushiel and Cassius were supposed to be hanging out with him. Fuck—had they gotten them too? I had to hope they could take care of themselves. As for Aiden—I wouldn’t let anyone hurt him. I’d fucking kill them with my bare hands before they touched my roommate.

I felt a hand at the back of my head and a water bottle held up to my lips.

“Hey, it’s ok. Have a drink. Dex said you’d probably have a headache,” Aiden murmured.

I lifted my head, squinting at him. “Dex?” I asked, confused as fuck. Why wasn’t Aiden panicking? We’d been fucking kidnapped, for Christ’s sake.

“Yeah. He called Cassius and said you were staying here, because you’d gotten pretty drunk. They told me I was welcome to come stay too, and I thought that would be good,” Aiden murmured, pushing the water bottle at me again.

I grabbed it and took a small swallow, resisting the initial urge to throw up as I drank a sip. I breathed deeply until the feeling passed then took another cautious swallow.

“Here?” I asked, looking at Aiden.

Aiden flashed an almost smile at me. “Yeah, I figured waking up in a strange place would freak you out. I’d freak out. I’d probably still have freaked out even knowing where I was if you weren’t here.” Aiden shrugged, but he still hadn’t told me where “here” was.

I cleared my throat, then asked, “Where are we, Aiden?”

“Oh! Sorry. We’re at Dex’s place.” He got up then, walking around the bed to the door, which I should have noticed earlier was open. Aiden hated a closed bedroom door. He looked out of the bedroom as he answered. “Well, I guess it’s technically Dex’s place? I don’t really know. It’s like a pool house, I guess? On his property? One of his properties? I didn’t ask too many questions, because I was more worried about you. But there’s a kitchen and living room out here and everything.”

“What happened to me?” I asked. I knew it was kind of a stupid question—if anyone should know that, it would be me.

“I guess you went out and got drunk,” Aiden said, and I could tell he was trying not to sound judgmental. “A friend of Dex’s knew you from the coffee shop or something because they called Dex, and he went and brought you back here.”

“I didn’t drink,” I muttered, letting the flashes from last night replay in my head.

Aiden turned around, looking at me and raising his eyebrows.

“Well, I did have soda. The bartender drugged me,” I admitted. “I thought he was my friend, and he drugged me.”

“Holy shit, Q, are you serious?”

I just nodded my head tiredly. Now that I knew I was safe, weariness was overtaking me. I felt like I could sleep for a day or two. My head was still pounding, and my stomach was rolling.

“We gotta tell someone. Gotta call the cops… or something,” Aiden said, looking unsurely at me.

Cops would not be a good idea, and Aiden probably knew it from his hesitation. Had someone really called Dex? Or maybe he had followed me? I could see Cassius putting him up to that. If so, what had happened to James and the other guy from the bar? I remembered being in his car. Had Dex found me and… hurt him? I was strangely sad at the thought, which made no sense at all, because I think he’d been trying to kidnap me. But I didn’t think he had been with James, because he had knocked the guy out.

I started to stand, only my legs wobbled beneath me. “Ugh. Sleep first,” I muttered, managing to stagger to the bed. “Don’t feel so great.”

Aiden rushed over, helping me under the covers. He sat on the side of the bed, looking anxiously at me. I reached out and patted his arm, mumbling a reassurance that I was ok before sleep took me back under.