Page 12 of Raine

If the crowd didn’t know we were dancing, I have no doubt it would look like a massive lesbian orgy with the way our bodies move, synchronized in harmony as one.

The entire club goes insane; wolf whistles, cheering, and screams reverberate around us, and it feels like we are rock stars, not dancers almost fucking on stage.

I nod, signaling to the girls that it’s time to leave the stage. We line up, with me in the middle, and I fall into the splits, our hands holding each other’s. The girls bow low, and then we get up and leave the stage.

I run down the stairs, heat pumping through my body and the sweat keeping my hair glued to my face and not whipping around me like usual.

When we reach the bottom of the stairs and the dressing room, I start to head toward my private room, but an arm grabs mine and stops me in my tracks. Confused, I turn around to find Starr’s pretty green eyes tracking my every move.

“What is it?” I ask. Her seriousness is beginning to kill my buzz.

My veins are itching, beseeching me to rip my arm from her hold and down a couple more pills before the depression, need, and insecurity envelope me.

“I’m worried about you.”

The other girls distract me as they saunter by, hooting and hollering for a moment before I focus back on the only person outside my mafia circle that I can call a friend.

“I’m fine.”

“Are you? Because right now, I’m not so sure.”

There’s something flickering in her green eyes, but I can’t latch onto the emotion, let alone register this entire conversation to its full capacity.

I laugh and slap her lightly on the shoulder with my free hand. She follows the movement before looking back at me.

“I’m fine. Stop being such a worrywart, sweet cheeks. I’ve got this.”

Starr’s hand loosens on me, and it looks as if it was done with more reluctance than acceptance. I offer her a small smile in hopes of placating her worries and kiss her cheek before heading back to my private space.

Locking the door, I head toward the dresser where my drugs are lined up, but my phone suddenly ringing halts me, and I wander toward it. The name flashing on the screen has my pulse spiking and my blood bubbling beneath the surface. Raven’s name continues to taunt me, and after the fifth ring, I decide to answer.

“Raven.”

“That’s Lady Raven to you, baby girl.”

My breath stutters, and I draw my hand up in hopes of quelling my rapid heartbeat.

“Is there a reason you’re calling me after twelve months?”

“Did you miss me?”

I scoff. “Like a bullet to the brain. What do you want?” I demand with a bravado I didn’t think was possible when it came to her.

“You, of course.”

“No.”

“No?”

“That’s what I said.”

A knock sounds from the other side of the door, and I feel the blood drain from my face.

“Open the door, now.”

Gnawing on my bottom lip, images flicker through my brain of the previous times Raven and I had been at odd ends of the stick. Pun intended.

We have a history —a fucking long, windy history. With her showing up here now, it was seriously dampening the power and drug-infused brain fog I was currently enjoying.