25

I'm in Dylan's sexy ride while he maneuvers through traffic easily; he reminds me of a snake swiveling across the ground dangerously undetected with a mission of malicious intent. It's been five days since he popped up as the mysterious, wolf themed-masked-patron and stapled a black collar around my neck.

I hate to admit that it's worked to keep clients' hands off me, and intriguing enough, it's made them want me more. The requests for private dances are unmanageable, but no one dares to put so much as a finger on me. They just watch with intense jitters and blinkless eyes.

I received a message with details about tonight's party at The Mansion, and Dylan wants us to prepare. Whatever that means.

"Now can you tell us where we're going?"

"Yea, I mean, even Sara knows. Not sure how you managed that, but she just texted that she's there already."

"There, where?" I look behind my shoulder to Jas, who's in the backseat with Max.

She pivots the phone, which we've been sharing, so I can view the text.

Dylan takes in a breath and rolls his shoulder. "You'll see."

What's with all the secrecy? I cross my arms and lean my head back. At first, I thought he was taking us shopping. I don't have shit to wear to a ball with strict attire guidelines. We're also not allowed any electronic devices. The thought of going through the massive structure, in hunt of a fucking USB, makes my stomach turn. I mean, hadn't Piper heard of the Cloud? She freaked out when I called to tell her the party was today.

Max lifts his head up and lets out one loud bark that startles me into looking outside. I hadn't realized Dylan had exited the highway and was nearing a secluded bend off a private road. I sit up, intrigued, and spot a massive house with an impressive stone paved driveway. A gigantic waterfall sits in the center of the curved road. He parks his car behind a monstrously sized pickup truck, and I notice two dirt bikes and one motorcycle parked on the other side of a tiny red sports car.

"Who lives here?"

Max pants excitedly when the large double wooden doors of the house open and Sara waves. She's holding a beer in one hand and her phone in the other. Dylan opens the door for Jasmin, and both she and Max climb out. Sara gives me a wave and rushes over to Jas and embraces her. The giant Cane Corso disappears into the house.

Sara wears loose black joggers, a white cropped top, and sneakers. Her platinum blonde dyed hair gleams in the sunlight, and her pale skin blushes easily in the suffocating heat. She's tall and thin, like Jasmin, but they're complete opposites. It's even more evident when they stand next to one another. Jasmin's dark complexion appears like smooth onyx, while Sara's tone is similar to a soft pink pearl.

I follow behind Dylan when a gorgeous woman in blue skin-tight jeans and a v-neck black t-shirt greets us. My breath halts, and I feel my cheeks burn. She embraces Dylan and acid sears the delicate tissue behind my eyeballs. My hands quake softly.

"Niki, this is Olivia—"

Olivia doesn't let him finish. She shoves him playfully with one hand to make room for me and collapses her body into mine in a hug. She smells of roses and leather. Similar to Dylan, but hers is a much more delicate scent mixed with lilies; she smells of springtime. Half of her head is shaved, and I glance at the intricate vines that wrap their way up her neck and behind her ear. They keep climbing and vanish into her hair.

"Finally!" she exclaims. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

My mouth opens, but nothing comes out, and Dylan chuckles.

"Olivia is my cousin, and this," he points behind her, "is Jason, her—" he pauses. "What are we calling him?"

Olivia rolls her eyes and stands back. She moves to stand next to me and tosses her arm over my shoulder. "My marinovio."

We all laugh except Jason, who glares at Dylan. His expression changes to a more playful glower when he looks at Olivia. Was I not supposed to laugh? I'm a stranger, after all. But no one seems to mind.

He pushes a button on his wheelchair, and it brings him forward. "Hi, Justice. It's great to put a face to the woman who's finally given this man something to obsess over that isn't work."

I smile sheepishly and take his hand, but before I can say anything, Sara and Jasmin thankfully join us. Dylan faces them and extends the proper introductions, then we all walk into the house.

I peer up at Dylan and give his hand a squeeze. "Your cousin?" I mouth, and he gives me a crooked smile.

I have to admit that the introduction was like a bucket of water being tossed over glowing embers.

The inside of the house is beautiful. The floors are made of glossy marble tile, and the creamy walls are decorated with angelic art from painters I cannot name. Everything is immaculate, tidy, and warm. The wood furniture looks carved with intricate patterns, and a massive crystal chandelier hangs from every room. We enter a room larger than both my and Dylan's trailers put together, and we take our seats on the cream-colored couches.

Jason secures his wheelchair with a press of a button, and Olivia sits on his lap. He kisses her arm and wraps one hand protectively around her waist and another grips her thigh. The seat next to mine sinks as Dylan collapses next to me. His long legs spread out in front of us and he pulls me closer to him. I allow myself to lean into him.

Jasmin sits on the couch next to us, and Sara joins her. They hold hands, and I notice Jasmin's tightly knit brows. She looks angry and I flash a questioning look at her. She blinks, letting me know she'll tell me later, and my stomach turns.

It all clicks suddenly. Sara already knew both Olivia and Jason; she's much too comfortable in their space. Had Dylan introduced them? And if so, when did he approach Sara? I watch as Olivia chats with her and they smile pleasantly at one another. My heart rate spikes, and I instinctively move away from Dylan.

He looks at me and frowns, but I ignore him. I don't like secrets. Maybe Sara explained herself to Jas while outside, but my best friend is still upset about something. I can tell.

"How do you," I point to Dylan, Olivia and Jason, "know Sara?"

Sara's eyes grow, but Olivia grins wickedly. Her full lips move into a tight line, and she hugs herself smugly. She looks at Sara and sweeps her hand to emphasize the room we're in. "The floor is yours."

I notice she squeezes Jasmin's hand, as if to keep it in hers, and my best friend/sister's nostrils flare. What the fuck is going on?

Dylan clears his throat. "We don't have time for this shit. I don't believe in coincidences, but apparently these two met in college. They're oldfriends," he says, and it sounds like a challenge.

"We all want the same thing," Sara suddenly says. "To put that fucking scumbag away."

Jasmin finally tears her hand free and crosses her arms, as if guarding herself. She looks to her right, where the front door is, and then at me.

Something in her icy look makes me stand. "We need a minute." I turn to look at Dylan, who's already towering beside me. "Alone."

Olivia pops up and approaches me. "Of course. I'll show you the kitchen. It's this way."

She leads Jasmin and me out of the fancy sitting room and into one of the cleanest, brightest, and most exquisite kitchens I've ever seen in my entire life. Including a television. An enormous-sized island sits between the walls lined with white cabinets. A stainless steel fridge is to the left, directly across is the stove. She opens the fridge, grabs two beers, and pops them open, then hands them to us.

"My house is your home now. Make yourselves comfortable."

Once Olivia walks away, Jasmin and I both place our beers on the island and she grabs my hands.

"Sara doesn't work at Best Buy." Jasmin rolls her eyes and her arms tremble. "Apparently, she works as a tech specialist for some private, unknown company that tracks and apprehends predators of all sorts."

Fuck. Well, that sounds familiar. I close my eyes and let out a slow breath.

"You know something." She lets go of my hands and when I open my eyes, she's backing away from me.

"Of course not!" I hiss. She relaxes but searches my face. "But…" I look around and throw my hands in the air. Fuck it. "It's basically what Dylan does, too. Jason works for him."

"What?"

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I didn't know how to take it all in. He's…" I search for the right word.

"Psychotic?" Jas offers and we laugh. "Are we going to trust them?"

I sigh. "I don't think we have much of a choice."

"Yea, well. I'm still fucking angry that she lied to me. I mean, Dylan fessed up."

Dylan did tell me. Everything.

He understood I wouldn't forgive a lie or an attempt to cover something up. Regardless of its importance. He risked me turning him away and bared his truth. I'm not sure why Sara kept things from Jasmin, but we have a fucking party to go to and standing around in this exquisite kitchen isn't going to help us get ready for the sick and scary night that awaits us.

We take our beers when Dylan appears in the archway. He steps into my space and tentatively places his hands on my waist.

"I just recently found out about Sara and looked into her once Olivia told me. She pans out." He glances at Jasmin, who's frozen beside me. "But I have no way of tracking it back to when you two met."

Jasmin nods and looks down at her beer. The dark glass sweats in her hands. "Not very good detective work, huh?"

Dylan chuckles, but it doesn't reach his eyes. He doesn't trust Sara, and immediately I'm suspicious. "Maybe we should call this whole thing off. Or at the very least, you two should stay put. Jason and I can attend and—"

"Absolutely not. I was personally invited… I'm not sitting this one out, rookie."

Olivia suddenly pops her head in. "I agree with Justice. We can handle this, D."

"We?" Both Dylan and Jason ask in unison and we all turn to face Jason.

Our gazes bounce from one person to the other.

Olivia is the first to speak, and she leans on the wall, exuding confidence. "Yes, we. I think it's time you gentlemen allow us to have some fun. Besides, it gives us the opportunity to show you how a job is really meant to be done."

I like her already.

"Absolutely not," Jason announces through a clenched jaw.

Olivia approaches him and moves to touch his face. He reaches for her hand and brings her knuckles to his lips. "I'm going to be just fine, Professor. And if anything happens to me, you can take it out with Dylan here."

She winks at Dylan, who puts his hands up as if surrendering. "I have nothing to do with this."

"If anything happens to her, I swear I will—"

"Yeah, yeah. You'll skin me alive and detach muscle from bone, all while keeping me alert to feel every second of it."

I blanch. Looks like this isn't their first time exchanging such threats.

"What about me?" Sara walks in and we all turn to her.

Her emerald-colored eyes appear pained as she stares at Jasmin, who takes a sip from her beer and then crosses her arms. "You and I have a conversation pending. But for now, this takes precedence."

Sara swallows and stuffs her hands deep into her pockets. "I can stay with Jason and monitor the situation from here. I brought some tech that you all can wear; it's undetectable. They won't find it on their scanners. I'll make sure you have the best fucking connection for us to be able to communicate. You can also add another person, someone not here… nor there."

She looks at Olivia and then to Dylan. How the fuck does she know about Piper?

"Olivia communicated some privy information," Dylan explains, and he glares at his cousin.

"Hey, I've known Sara for years and I vouch for her. I don't agree with some of her… methods. But she's good people."

"It's up to Niki and Jasmin," Dylan crosses his arms. "I'll back up what they decide."

It's like a standoff between the two family members. They stare at one another, neither one backing down.

Jasmin clears her throat. "It's alright, she can stay."

"Great." Olivia's hands clasp together near her chest. "I have outfits for us." She weaves her arms through mine and Jasmin's and leads us out.

I turn, and Dylan offers me an encouraging smile, then waves at me. Behind us, I hear Jason grilling Dylan about Olivia accompanying us, but we reach a turn and their voices become too muffled for me to eavesdrop.

"I went a little crazy and bought us a variety of outfits for the night." Olivia takes us into a master suite and then we walk into the biggest closet that I'm sure absolutely no one needs.

The room is the size of an entire apartment, with bright lights and a lush, ivory-colored carpet. Three walls hold hundreds of color coded outfits, and directly to my right is an open room and I get a glimpse of shoes lining the walls from floor to ceiling. She directs us to a spot with an ornate screen cornered against a wall. To my right, a rolling cart, like one you would see behind the scenes at a modeling show, holds at least twenty outfits.

"The blue hangers hold your outfits, Justice. And the yellow ones are for Jasmin."

I freeze, temporarily blinded by the bright lights, and I lean against a cushioned bench and sit.

"You got these for us?" Jasmin manages.

Although my little family owns a ranch with all the elements of a cozy living, we've never truly taken advantage of it all. We embody the living standards of the trailer park, and we always felt it kept our situation more believable. I couldn't walk around with the latest and most fashionable boots, Jule couldn't own the best gadgets, and Jasmin could never have a single item from this expensive array of dresses I'm sure she'd love to own. We had to fit it, regardless of what we owned miles from our trailer shit box, and we grew to appreciate and value what we earned. It made everything we had at the ranch extra special.

Olivia smiles at us. "Let's get ready."

I stare in the mirror. "I can't walk out with this."

"You can and you will," Jas says while she practically flirts with her reflection.

I have to admit, her outfit is much more revealing. She wears a red, silk cut-out dress haltered over her right shoulder. The slit extends throughout the entire thing, revealing the skin between her breasts down an open wave sweeping her entire frame. A gold brooch connects the fabric at her hip. She wears her tight curls down, and her lips are a shade darker than the dress. Her sky high black heels have a red bottom and she bends her leg and smooths a finger over the shiny material.

She's in her element, while I'm still barefoot and sitting on the bench. I bury my face in my hands.

"Hey!" Olivia chastises. "You'll fuck up your make-up. Stop that."

Her dress is revealing in a whole different way. Olivia wears an all black, jersey-like material, backless and skintight dress. It looks like a second skin, as if it were painted on. And dainty, silver strappy heels. The beautiful chrome prosthetic cover catches the light, and I try not to stare. I wonder what happened to her, but I silence my question and press my lips tightly together.

"Here," she offers, and hands me a pair of pearl white pumps. "It's time to gear up with our tech."

Jasmin laughs quietly. She knows I despise high-heeled shoes. Although at least now I'm better at wearing them–I no longer wobble.

I slide my feet in and stand to look at myself again.

I have a long, high-waisted skirt that stops two inches below my breasts with a slit that opens up the bottom and stops at my waist. This part of the outfit I'm okay with. The material is stretchy and comfortable. It moves with me and doesn't strain me. The top… is a whole different story. I'm reminded of my Nym-Pho attire. This is what I get for allowing Olivia and Jasmin to select my clothing. My top is made of hundreds of pearls sewn together into sectioned, necklace-like partitions. A white material cut identical to a daisy serves as a nipple covering. The beaded straps over my shoulders connect in the back the same way a bra would. I wiggle in it and adjust my breasts.

"You'll be fine. That's what the tape is for." Olivia pats my back.

She provided me with clear sticky tape to hold my breasts up as if I were wearing a push-up bra. They're in place and don't budge, and it gives me comfort. My hair is straightened and tamed, it's longer somehow, and falls to the small of my back.

Except for my mother's charm bracelet, we don't wear jewelry. That's where the tech comes in. It's fashioned to look like earrings, a necklace, a watch, and even a garter. I smile when I think of the special piece I have for Dylan. I mentioned it to Olivia, and she passed it over to Sara, who promised to add an undetectable camera, complete with a built in sound absorber.

My skin tingles and I finally feel ready. I can fucking do this.