Chapter 3 Ellie

I take my denim jacket off as I enter the nightclub. Sophie's earlier vague text said something about christening. The Crown is a hard mix of luxury and bad. I peruse the space with interest.

Dancing bodies. Alcohol. Bad decisions. Even soulmate searching. There was a time in my life when I visited nightclubs because I enjoyed getting the attention of men.

I would dress up like an entirely different person in California and hang by the bar, catching the eyes of any prey that's willing.

But I always cut it short before it could escalate. When the heat turned up, I ran.

I've been running my entire life, but it was Zane who convinced me to put an end to it and come home. He proposed and swayed me into agreeing to get married in the place I grew up.

Gosh, the way that man supports me is undefinable. Words will fall short if I tried.

It made sense that we would get married here. Zane has never seen this part of me. I feel like I owe this to him. So, here I am, back home, even though my father warned me never to do that until the day I die.

But the bad people who harmed my father wouldn't lurk around the city, waiting for me. Ellie Martin has been dead for five years. Only Sophie and Tina and her family know the truth-half the truth.

They knew I was alive, but they never knew what side of the globe I was on.

The music in the club amps up. I bob my head to the beat, getting into it.

"Ellie?"

I turn around, a big smile slapping over my face. "Sophie!"

She collides with me, stealing the breath in my lungs. I tighten my arms around her as she squeals in my ear. Her presence is too good to be true. I can feel her. Hold her.

This is amazing.

Moving and faking my death made me lose all my friends. Sophie's the only one from here that I still have.

"It's you. You are really in front of me," she pulls back, holding my arms and appraising me, "God, Ellie. If I die now, there will be a smile on my face because I got to see you one last time."

I giggle and smack her rib lightly. "Shut up, Soph. You already know what they say to death."

"Not today." She keeps a solemn face until it cracks, and a loud laugh seeps out.

"They should definitely hire you in the next season of the prequel. That was phenomenal."

Sophie flips her hair over her shoulder. "Thanks, sweetie. I get that a lot."

I smile at her head while she leads me through the loose crowd. Sophie Lockwood is as dramatic as I remember her to be. I may have missed out on our friendship, but I plan to change that now that the past is behind us.

She brings us to where two other stunning girls are standing, and I instantly feel queasy inside me. I fear seeing unfamiliar faces just as much as familiar ones.

The past may be behind us, but I will be a liar to say I'm not paranoid.

"Quinn. Alana. Meet Eleanor." Sophie turns to me, wincing at the look on my face. "Eleanor, meet my friends from law school. Quinn and Alana."

I offer a small wave. It's awkward as hell. I choose silence for the next few minutes.

Alana gasps, "Sophie, ohmygod, are these real diamonds?"

When she says that, I glance at the necklace Sophie's wearing. It's shiny and hard to miss, but it's not a surprise. Her father is a global hotshot, and she has always had the fine things in life. It's how we became friends. Our fathers knew each other.

But that life is over for me. Five years ago, I didn't just run because I was in danger. My father's business crumbled. He was attacked and ruined. We fell hard from the top of the world to the bottom end. From luxury grace to dirt-cheap grass.

I became poor. I had to buckle up and learn to survive the hard way. Zane stood by me throughout, and that's how I know he's the one.

I lower my head, holding back the tears that sting the corner of my eyes when I remember.

How crazy will I look, shedding tears in a nightclub when I'm not even near tipsy?

"Nice ring."

I raise my head. Quinn's staring at me. I don't like how she looks at people. Or is it just me?

She's nosy, and I get the idea that, after tonight, I'll be dead to her again.

"Thanks. My fiancé has a good eye." I stare her down and even slightly raise my chin. "Nice earrings. They are fire."

"I don't think you will know what brand they are, though." She mocks me with her thin smile and turns to Sophie. "How did you say you met her again?"

"We've been pen pals for a while now." Sophie spares me a furtive glance. "Why do you ask, Quinn?"

I see red. Quinn doesn't know Sophie has been my friend since we were toddlers. She thinks that in a game of kiss and kill between the two of us that Sophie will choose her.

I scoff. She's a fool.

"Save for that ring. She doesn't look like someone you'll befriend."

The audacity.

I look away.

Pulling out the hairs of friends of friends isn't a nice thing to do, but Quinn, the bitch, is tempting me so bad that I almost forget why that's wrong.

Alana digs her elbow into Quinn's side. "Does that matter? I think that doesn't matter at all," she smiles at me, holding my wrist, "Eleanor, trust me. Quinn didn't mean it that way. She can just be a little too blunt sometimes."

I look at her hand. I want to tear it off me and take the high road out of here, but I come up with a tight-lipped smile.

"Okay. I say we hit the dance floor." Yeah, before I hit someone's face.

Quinn snickers, and I can't fake it any longer. I scowl at Sophie. What the hell is her problem?

"Quinn-"

Quinn cuts Alana off. "With a clear head? Oh, Eleanor. That's not the Crown way."

Much later, I understand what Sophie's christening text meant. I've gobbled down so many shots that I've lost count. I sway slightly on my feet, but I also feel alive.

The beat of the music hits differently now. I can feel it in my bones, every chord, every note. My body itches to move to it, and I've never really been the dancer.

Even Quinn has loosened up. Alana's occupied with the cute bartender mixing drinks and pulling off tricks to make himself look cool. I'm alone with my thoughts for a moment. So, I trace my finger along the rim of the short glass, thinking about Zane.

I should have come with him. I miss him.

Sophie whispers in my ear, "Dance with me."

She drags me out of my chair and pulls me in the middle of the crowd. Her pupils dilate. She feels exactly what I'm feeling. The rush. The thrill. I'm wondering if the bartender may have accidentally spiked our tequila.

She runs her hand down my arm. The other one crashes our hips together. I gyrate in sync with her. Sophie's hands creep into her hair.

Then she takes my hand to her chest, moving down a path to stop at the waistband of her mini skirt. I hear her laugh. Her head falls back.

The song changes. It's no longer sensual. Her moves change, and I copy them, having a blast.

"Hey, was there something in our drinks?" I ask, bobbing my head to the beat and jumping.

I'm hyper, unusually hyper.

She laughs again, a sign that she's definitely not in her right mind. "Relax, Ellie. It's nothing dangerous."

I stop dancing and my ears ring in alarm.

I've never used drugs before. When Sophie and I knew each other, clubbing wasn't something I enjoyed or resorted to.

But new life, new me, I guess.

I glance around the floor, looking over my shoulder. But I just know I can't turn back again. There's someone within these walls whose presence is as obvious as black on white. He's standing out, and I see why. Opposite the dance floor, he's sitting down while being surrounded by a commanding aura. Somehow, there's a clear path between Sophie and I and him.

When his eyes look up from his drink, my heart skips five beats.

He's caught me staring. It's my cue to look away and not make things awkward, but I blame it on the unknown substance I took.

I gulp. Flashes of the things I want to do to that body of his sharpen in my mind. I'm suddenly breathless, out of control. My tongue wants to trace the tattoo peeking from the unfastened collar of his grey t-shirt. I lick my bottom lip instead.

He's a vision of darkness. The air of danger around him is palpable from where I stand, but my poor engaged ass can't resist.

I know how to breathe until the moment he stands, and then, I melt like wax, dripping onto the floor.

God, he's tall.

6'4-no, 6'5, that's it.

He has thick thighs-I slap my head, wincing at the sting of pain that comes after.

What the hell am I doing? I blink rapidly, clearing the fog of lust in my stoned brain. The tip of my fingers whiten. Fear makes me tremble. I need to run back to Zane now before I do something stupid.

I raise my head again, and he's right there. A few feet away, but he's definitely headed towards...me.

The space between us closes in. A whiff of his cologne hits me first. I suck it in greedily. I want more. Two steps. Four steps. The tattooed man is next to me now, but he doesn't stop walking forward.

His shoulders brush past mine, and I hear something shatter inside me. I feel really stupid. Did I really think a man as good-looking as that would leave his seat to talk to me?

When I look over my shoulder, I'm even more mortified.

There he is, talking to Sophie.

I exit the dance floor, red in the face and hot between my legs over something stupid and wrong. This has never happened before. Zane is my entire world. How could I have reacted to a total stranger that way?

I plop down on the toilet seat and bury my face in my palms, sobbing because I feel dirty. Dirty and stupid.

But suddenly, after about three minutes, the bathroom door collides roughly with the wall next to it. I jerk, alarmed. I hear voices. Male voices, but this is the women's bathroom.

My hand flies over my mouth as realisation slaps me in the face.

"This place will do. I'll send for the reaper."

Another voice objects. "I don't know. It's too clean."

"The cleaner, the better, Jax. Besides, we are about to dirty it all up." The laughter that follows is sickening.

I don't know what they are talking about, but I'm scared stiff. Their voices spark fear inside me. If they find me, I don't want to think about what they are capable of doing to me. I climb onto the toilet seat, going down on my haunches and breathing silently.

When someone starts going through each stall, a fresh streak of tears fall down my face. There are five of them. I'm inside the last stall. A whimper escapes me as I panic. The sound of my heartbeat pounds as loud as a quake in my ear.

Bang!

He moves to the next stall.

Bang!

He moves, getting rougher in the way he handles the doors.

Bang!

Bang!

"Jax! Why the hell are you still here?" a voice asks, unknowingly helping me bide time.

I mope at the black boots right in front of my stall's door. I'm shaking like a leaf now, eyes not leaving them.

"Checking to see if there's anyone here, duh."

"Oh, would you leave the damned stalls already? This place is as empty as your bank account."

From the space underneath the stall's door, I watch the pointy end of his boots turn right as he faces the entrance.

"Forgive me for being extra fucking careful, Benny. All the secured offices we have here are in use, and we've never done this in the open before."

"Do you hear a single thing? We are wasting time, Jax! He will be back any minute now."

Those pointy ends face my door again. Three seconds pass. My teeth dig into the skin of my mouth. I hear him grab the handle and open the door.

I die. I'm sure I do, but somehow, my body remains in position. He doesn't go all the way, though, but I'm exposed. He just has to peer inside and find me.

"Shit! Ares just gave the signal. The reaper is on his way back from Rhys's office."

"Since when are we so scared of reapers, Benny?"

"Are you sure you have a working brain? The man on tonight's job is very highly ranked." This new voice is a mix of awe and terror. "He's the famous Irish-American wolf, and they say he always works alone, so let's vanish from here."

The other one I had gotten used to his voice says, "'Don't know about you two. I just know I don't ever want to get on his bad side. I heard he's killed people in far worse ways than the devil can imagine."

I squint past the sizable space in the door when something on the floor moves. A body. I gasp inwardly as I peer closer. It's Sophie. She's all tied up in the middle of the bathroom, wrists and ankles tethered. There's a tight gag in her mouth.

My face ashens.

Fuck, I should have never left her alone out there. But why? The wheels in my head turn until it hurts. Why the hell do they have Sophie tied up?!

"Fine." Jax leaves the handle, and I let out a silent breath.

When I hear the entrance door close, I jump down from the toilet seat, throwing open the door to set Sophie free. I put a crack first in my stall's door to make sure the coast is clear, not thinking about how dangerous this obviously is. I don't think at all.

"Sophie!" I whisper-yell.

But before she can look my way, the bathroom door opens again. And with the speed of light, I slam the stall's door silently closed, heart racing.

I bend on the toilet seat as silent as a ghost again, trying to replay the events of the past few minutes. Because I've been very wrong.

The 'Wolf' that the thugs who brought Sophie in here are so terrified of, and that hot-as-sin, tattooed man from the club are the same person.

Fuck.