6. Chapter 6

Demi

W e ride in silence to Club Lust. The driver picked me up right on time, as expected. The anticipation building inside of me during the drive is excruciating because I'm left only to my thoughts. I keep thinking about how much Jay is going to love his gift this year, and I already know there's no way I will ever be able to top this next year. The buildings blur by as we make our way to the secret location. It's hard to believe in a few short hours I'm betting everything on the information from my confidante, and partner in crime, Cecile.

She knows what will happen if she's wrong. It won't be me she has to worry about. Jay will show no mercy when it comes to me. If anyone were to so much as lay a finger on me, he would no doubt end their life. Then he would find anyone else involved and end them too. He's my ruthless king of Detroit. He makes my knees weak and my pussy ache.

Damn, I keep getting distracted by my thoughts. I should pay more attention to my surroundings. I know Jay's keeping tabs on me, though. He watches my every move and keeps me safe from the world. He always has. I could probably look out for myself, but it makes him feel some type of way which I find incredibly attractive. Fuck. There I go thinking about him again. I spend the remainder of my car ride either lost in my thoughts about Jay or scolding myself for getting lost in my thoughts.

We pull up behind an abandoned warehouse and the driver cuts the engine. There are several other town cars parked like ours. He steps out of the car and opens my door for me, politely. Once again, saying nothing. After I've climbed out, he slams the door behind me. It echoes loudly in the quiet emptiness.

"Follow me," he says gruffly, walking toward a door that nearly blends in with the walls of the warehouse. On the door is a keypad. He enters his code swiftly, taking care to ensure I am not able to see what he is entering. The door clicks, and he holds it open for me. ‘‘After you."

I walk into a dimly lit rectangular space. There's a set of elevators along one wall and a man in a suit standing between them overseeing everything. He gives a slight nod of acknowledgment to my driver, who walks to the elevator and keys in yet another code. When the elevator dings and the doors glide open, he gestures for me to step inside. I do so reluctantly, not because I'm afraid but because he's so dull and boring. The driver takes his job way too seriously. We ride in silence down to what is likely the basement. I'm not prepared for what I see once the elevator comes to a stop and the doors open.

I suck in my breath. The floor is an exquisite marble, and the walls are a deep, luxurious black. Overhead, crystal chandeliers cast a warm glow. Everything about this hallway screams status and wealth. I find it strangely comforting, then imagine for a moment how easily the entire aesthetic could change if I caught the driver off-guard and slit his throat; spraying blood over the crisp dark walls and splattering the polished marble floor with puddles of crimson liquid.

A woman clears her throat, pulling me from my imagined scene. I blink my eyes a few times and scan the far end of the hallway. There's a small desk with a woman sitting behind it. I look at the driver waiting for some kind of instructions, but he hasn't even stepped off the elevator. He points down the hall at the woman and says, "You'll check in there. Have a good night."

He presses a button inside the elevator, and the doors begin to close. It's just me, this long hallway, and the woman behind the desk now. The walk down the hall to check in feels longer than it should have. The blood rushes in my ears as I try to calm myself. Stay calm. No one knows you're here to carry out an execution. These people probably think you are just another asset to be auctioned and handled. The only person who has any sort of an inkling or suspicion is probably Edward. He doesn't seem like the trusting type and so we must do everything possible to deceive him this weekend.

"Name, dear?" The woman asks from behind the desk.

I've stopped walking without realizing it, and it takes me a few seconds to recover. "De—"

She interrupts me, "Stage name, honey. Don't share your real name from here on out tonight, okay?"

I nod my understanding. "Trouble," I reply, realizing the innocent act might be better than the real me at this point. I promised Edward no leads back to him, no suspicion, no anything. Everything must appear in order.

The woman scans the tablet, which is one of two items on her desk. She taps on the tablet, then points at a bowl full of folded paper slips. "Pick a paper with a number on it from the bowl, please."

I do as she says, reaching in and feeling the papers brush against my fingertips. My hands clasp around one and I pluck it from the bowl. I hand it to her without looking.

She opens it. "Ahhhh, lucky number seven, my dear. An excellent spot in the lineup."

I smile at her in response. At least she has more personality than the driver. She taps the number into the tablet, then stands. Behind her desk is a door I didn't notice before. She walks to it, pressing her finger against the reader, and waits for it to click open. "Follow me, I will take you to your dressing room. Dani and Sam will be in shortly to do your hair and makeup. There are instructions and rules you can read over on the table. Cold bottled water and, of course, if you need anything to help take the edge off your nerves, just pick up the phone on the table and let someone on the other end know your request."

I follow her as she leads me down a much larger hallway lined with doors. Each door has an alias name on it. We arrive at the one labeled Trouble, and she guides me inside. "Go ahead and get changed. I'll let Dani and Sam know you are waiting for them." With that, she turns on her heels and leaves me all alone in my dressing room.