Page 21

T he pulsating lights of the club cast an enchanting spell over the night, each flicker a mesmerizing dance of shadows and hues.

Fintan and I weave through the crowd, our laughter mingling with the thumping bass as we make our way to the bar, whiskey beckoning like an old friend.

I have been drinking since noon. This is our last stop for the night on Fintan’s insane tour of every bar and club in the city.

It’s sick, I’ve never been inside Hell’s Playground, but I do get what all the hype is about now.

This place opened up around the same time we got the buildings and started Clover Ink.

This place is aptly named. Everyone in here moves as one with the music. Grinding. Writhing.

The atmosphere is intoxicating, and it feels like sin is being pumped through the vents and smoke machines like an airborne aphrodisiac. This place would make the perfect hunting ground for new targets to make content.

We’ve received new requests from our viewers after the kidnapping fantasy we acted out with Alex Peterson, but Fintan and I are on shaky ground after that night, so we haven’t made any new videos for Hush .

As we approach, I catch a glimpse of her, Alex, laughing and conversing with two people at the bar. My heart quickens its pace at the sight of her, a rush of surprise and longing flooding my veins like wildfire.

She’s radiant, a beacon of light amidst the darkness, and I find myself drawn to her with an irresistible pull.

Fintan orders the whiskey, his voice a distant echo against the backdrop of my thoughts. I tear my gaze away from Alex, focusing instead on the amber liquid swirling in my glass, a poor substitute for the intoxicating allure of her presence.

But when I look up again, she’s gone, vanished into the throng of dancing bodies. A strange feeling grips my chest, a suffocating weight that threatens to consume me whole. I push through the crowd, desperate to catch another glimpse of her.

I see her, making her way toward the large doors, her silhouette cutting through the chaos like a knife through butter. Time slows to a crawl as I watch her go, a sense of excitement burning bright in the depths of my soul, a high that I’ve been chasing since our night together.

She’s slipping through my fingers, and I can’t bear the thought. With a surge of determination, I follow in her wake, my heart pounding with each step as I chase after the one thing that makes me feel something other than shame and longing.

Maybe Fintan had a point. I don’t know if I would have kissed him if it wasn’t for her, or the circumstances. The heat of the rolling cameras can make anyone do things they wouldn’t normally do…right?

Fintan grabs my arm before I get too far into the crowd and snaps me out of it. Deciding to keep Alex’s brief proximity to myself, I return to the bar with him and have more drinks, attempting to drown these feelings she breathed life into with her presence.

Has she made me realize my feelings for Fintan stem from more than just our closeness?

Was I projecting my feelings for Fintan onto her, because it felt…acceptable?

Our bond as “brothers”?

Fuck, my stomach lurches every time he calls me that. It feels so fucking wrong, I don’t know if I can admit the truth, even to myself.

The glow of the laptop screen casts an eerie light across the interior of my car as I watch the live feed from the club’s security cameras.

I’m trying not to draw attention to myself as I sit in my car, parked in the parking lot next to H.P. and no one seems to notice which is perfect. The whole city must be drunk and celebrating.

This must be fate. This is a great night to execute my plans. Why the fuck did I think taking tonight off would help me relax? This is perfect!

Joel would kill me if he knew I hacked his system. He should really look into beefing up his security, this took me less than ten minutes.

I’ve been preparing for this since the studio. Neither God nor the devil himself could stop me from getting my revenge.

Fintan and Kieran are at the bar, knocking back shot after shot with reckless abandon. A bitter smirk plays on my lips as I witness their descent into drunken oblivion.

With a few keystrokes, I switch to the camera focused on the bar, zooming in on the unsuspecting duo. They’re laughing, oblivious to the danger that lurks in the shadows, a danger of my own making.

Ah, luck is on my side!

I laugh at the irony.

Getting lucky on St. Patrick’s Day. Wow, what a cliché.

A drunk girl I bumped into earlier on my way out, stumbles out of the club with glazed eyes and a look of willingness to do anything for a thrill.

I place my laptop on the passenger seat and rush out of the car, heading straight toward her.

“Hey, want to make fifty bucks and help a girl out?” I say, urging some tears to my eyes.

“Fifty? Sure!” she slurs.

I hand her the vial I’ve had tucked into my bra every day since I formulated this plan. You never know…

“Hey, you see those two guys at the bar?” I gesture subtly toward Fintan and Kieran, my voice low and conspiratorial. “The one with the dark hair, Kieran, he is my boyfriend. But he’s cheating on me. Do you see that shot glass? Pour this into it.” I hand her a small vial.

“What is it?” she asks, holding the vial up to get a better look at it. “It’ll just knock him out cold. He is out with his friend, and I want to embarrass him by making his friend think he can’t handle his liquor.”

I pull out my phone and show her the photo I snapped of Kieran through the studio window weeks ago and go over the plan once more to make sure she won’t fuck it up.

I can’t have her drugging some random stranger in there.

The girl nods eagerly, a mischievous glint in her eye as she saunters over to the door and heads straight for the bar, her movements calculated but stumbling from the copious amounts of alcohol.

I jump into the car again and glue my eyes to the screen next to me. I watch with satisfaction as she engages Kieran in conversation, her words a siren’s call that leads him closer to his inevitable downfall.

Sure enough, moments later, I see her slip the contents of the vial into Kieran’s drink, her hand lingering on his arm as she whispers something in his ear.

He chuckles, oblivious to the trap that’s been set for him, before knocking back the tainted shot with a careless grin.

I wait with bated breath as the drug takes effect, watching Kieran’s movements slow. With a triumphant smirk, I switch off the camera feed, knowing that my plan is in motion and there’s no turning back now.

Just as I’m about to shut the laptop, my phone buzzes with an incoming call from an unknown number. I hesitate for a moment, my heart pounding in my chest as I answer.

“Hello?” I say, my voice is steady despite the tumultuous storm raging within me.

“Hey, little Dove.” The voice on the other end is familiar, tinged with an Irish accent that sends shivers down my spine. It’s Kieran, his words slurred with intoxication. “I miss you, Dove. Have you missed your masters?”

A bitter laugh escapes my lips as I hold the phone against my chest, so he doesn’t hear.

Kieran may miss me now, but soon he’ll be begging for mercy as I unleash the full force of my vengeance upon him.

“Yes,” I say, trying not to choke on the word. “Why don’t you get some fresh air, master ?”

With a sense of purpose coursing through my veins, I slip out into the night, my footsteps echoing against the pavement as I make my way to the dark alley next to the club.

I keep him on the line until I am hunched and leaning against the wall behind the large dumpster. Before long, I spot him stumbling out into the alley, leaning his back against the rough brick.

He fumbles with his lighter as he tries to light his cigarette. He doesn’t have a lot of time. He should collapse any minute now.

I see the flame light up his handsome features and curse myself for finding him so irresistible. The end of his cigarette finally lights up and while he takes his first drag, he starts to slump against the wall.

“Miss me, master ?” I chime in a mocking tone as I step out of the darkness. He barely registers. His eyes are glazed as he looks up at me, his ass hitting the pavement and he falls to his side, the cigarette still between his lips.

Grabbing him by the wrists, I struggle but manage to pull his dead weight behind the dumpster and out of sight. I feel around for his phone and take it just in case. It shouldn’t be long before Fintan comes looking for his dark-haired counterpart.

I sprint back to the car and grab everything I need from the trunk before heading back to the alley.

And I wait.

I knock back another shot of whiskey, but my mind is elsewhere. I stare at the bottom of the empty glass, the amber liquid barely gone and against my better judgment, I order another. I am not a big drinker like Kieran but tonight we celebrate our favorite holiday.

I want Kieran to relax and get out of his head and since alcohol is his poison, why the fuck not?

Kieran has been drinking since noon, and it didn’t take me long to catch up. I am by no means a “cheap date”, but alcohol usually fucks with my high, so I tend to just stick with my weed or whatever I fancy at the time.

I offered Kieran some of my stash before we came in but as usual, he declined.

The chaos around me seems to fade away as my thoughts drift to Kieran. I can almost feel the warmth of his body against mine, the way I imagine his touch would send shivers down my spine.

My fingertips ache to trace the contours of his muscles, to feel the heat of his skin beneath my touch. The fresh shot of whiskey burns in my throat, but it doesn’t compare to the fire that Kieran ignites within me ever since Alex, our pretty little Dove.

Images of our stolen moments together dance in my mind, each memory more vivid than the last. He has been distant after our night with her . He subtly recoils whenever I touch him, and he refuses to talk about that night. He has had a haunted look in his eyes ever since.

I brought him here to knock back a few drinks and relax. It’s the last club on my list for tonight; we’ve never been here, but I’ve heard so much about this place.

Kieran hasn’t returned from his smoke break yet, and a sense of unease prickles at the back of my neck.

He seemed quite drunk when he stepped out. I fucking hope I don’t find him face-down on the curb. Maybe he is in the alley, balls-deep in that cute, drunk little thing who came over and flirted with him earlier.

I glance around the crowded dance floor, searching for any sign of him, but he’s nowhere to be found. With a sigh, I push away from the bar, weaving my way toward the exit.

The cold night air hits me like a slap in the face as I step outside, the alley bathed in darkness save for the faint glow of the streetlamp on the other side of the road.

“Kieran!” My breath forms wispy clouds in the chilly air, but there’s no response.

A flicker of worry tugs at my gut as I round the corner, half expecting to find him still smoking and leaning against the wall with a lit cigarette between his fingers. But the alley is empty, and dark.

My heart skips a beat as I move deeper into the alley, relief washing over me as I recognize the familiar figure sitting against the wall in the darkness.

Lord, you drunk idiot! Answer me when I fucking call you.

“Kieran, what the hell are you doing back here?” I call out, my voice tinged with annoyance.

But before I get closer, a figure emerges from behind the dumpster, a sharp burning sensation radiates through my ribs. My muscles tense up as a searing jolt shoots through my body, sending me sprawling to the ground in a haze of confusion and pain.

I struggle to make sense of what’s happening, the world spinning around me as I try to regain my senses. But it’s too late. I feel a weight straddle me, pinning me to the cold pavement, and dread settles like a heavy stone in the pit of my stomach.

And then I hear her voice, cold and menacing, sending a shiver down my spine but also making me rock hard. “Don’t worry, baby,” she whispers, her words dripping with malice as she recites my words back to me. “We’re going to have so much fun together.”

I try to protest, to fight against the darkness that threatens to consume me, but it’s futile. She covers my face with a chloroform rag and everything fades.