Page 84 of Thorns of Silence

The moment we passed the doors to the entrance, we were stopped and searched. This was a first for us both.

It wasn’t until we were deep inside the club that Isla and I shared an excited glance. “I love how it works every time,” she signed and mouthed.

“Like a charm,” I signed back. “He didn’t even ask for our IDs. Why do you think they searched us?”

Isla shrugged her slim shoulders. “Maybe some criminal owns it and doesn’t want someone to shoot him in his own club?”

I rolled my eyes, then got sidetracked the moment we were on the first floor where men and women alike were getting drunk and rubbing all over each other.

The music was so loud it sent vibrations through my body and made my insides tremble with excitement. I loved how it allowed me to feel normal for a little bit.

The two of us made our way to the bar and ordered two shots of Fireball. When the bartender slid the little glasses to us, we clinked them in a toast.

“Happy New Year to us,” I signed, then we downed our shots, promptly coughing.

Isla wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, then tapped her chest. “Shit, that burns.”

Just as I put the glass back on the counter, the hairs on the back of my neck prickled and I got the feeling that someone was staring at me. Slowly turning my head, I let my eyes travel the room but couldn’t spot anyone.

Shaking off the feeling of being watched, Isla and I made our way to the dance floor. For the next hour, we danced and laughed, drank some more, and danced again. The music drummed in my veins, sending vibrations up from my toes.

Isla found some schmuck and was making out with him in the far corner while I kept an eye on her. It was our rule: never disappear from view.

I kept dancing with a heady, uninhibited rush in my blood, the dimmed lights casting a glow against my bare legs and arms. The bodies on the dance floor moved as one, but I was in my own world.

A drop of sweat ran down my back and I pulled the heavy strands of my hair into my fist when I felt someone’s hands on me. I whirled around and found a young man with dark eyes and blond hair grinning like a fool.

I read his lips. “Hi, beautiful.”

I groaned. It was always the same with boys. They thought if they smiled at you and called you beautiful, you’d fall at their feet. If my heart tripped over itself, or at least paused for a flicker of a second at the sight of him, I’d give him a try.

Zip. Nada.

I danced my way away from him, but he followed. I groaned inwardly, annoyed at the interruption. My eyes roamed over the crowd, looking for a suitable victim that would intimidate this fucker. My breath caught when my eyes collided with a set of blue ones.

Dante Leone.

All grown up and wearing a black three-piece suit, the outline of his weapon visible underneath his jacket. Looked to me like he didn’t get searched on his way in.

I recognized him instantly. The boy I met when I was eight. All my senses faded at the overpowering intensity his presence delivered to my abdomen. It was new. Different. Unlike anything I had ever experienced before. I didn’t remember feeling this way when I ran into him at Grandma’s Malibu house two years ago.

Someone grabbed my hand and my eyes lowered in a daze to find the blond guy latched on to me. I yanked my hand away and made my way toward Dante, my feet moving of their own accord.

Three steps. Two steps. One step.

And he was right in front of me. I didn’t evaluate my next steps. If I did, I’d chicken out. Instead, I grabbed his suit jacket and pulled him to me. He even assisted me by bending his tall frame. With my chest against his and my fingers fisting his jacket, I crushed my lips to his.

The world faded as his cologne’s woodsy scent enveloped me. My blood rushed in my ears as our mouths molded together. Everything inside of me stilled and raged at the same moment.

I pulled lightly on his lips, heat pulsing and spreading through me like fire. He kissed me back, parting my lips with his and slipping his tongue inside. Pure, unadulterated want shot through me, and I suddenly understood why love and lust had the ability to start and end wars.

He grabbed the back of my neck, angling me so he could kiss me deeper. His other hand gripped my waist, pulling me flush to his hard body.

When I finally stepped back, I was panting, my cheeks burning as I met a possessive heat sizzling in the blue flames of his gaze.

My pulse thrummed between my legs and something invisible and hot weaved between us.

“You’re mine now, Phoenix Romero.”