Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 83550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Not with Bridger.
Not with Ice.
Nothing will alter the reality of where things stand.
As I step out of the dressing room, a faint flicker of hope sneaks in. And I wonder, just for a moment, if there will ever be a time when I let myself believe in something more.
Something real.
8
Bridger
When another mass message lights up my screen, I swear under my breath. I don’t need to open it to know it’s going to be another shot aimed straight at me. Whoever’s behind these messages knows exactly where to hit the hardest, twisting things just enough to make me question everything.
Anonymous Message
Daddy’s money won’t protect Sanderson forever. Looks like the golden boy’s got a few cracks. It won’t be long before he crumbles.
I slam my phone down, pacing my room as anger knots in my chest.
“Fuck, dude.” Steele watches from my bed, worry etched on his face. “It never ends. Why can’t the tech department just shut the server down?”
“I’m done waiting for the university to handle this.” I grab my keys, already moving. “I’m going to take care of it myself.”
Before he can argue, I’m out the door and in my car, heading toward Holland’s place near campus. I have no idea what I’ll say when I see her, but I can’t sit around watching my life get picked apart one message at a time.
As I pull up, I spot Holland leaving the townhouse. The red glint of her hair catches the porch light as she strides toward her car. With her attention focused on the phone in her hand, she doesn’t notice me. It’s so damn tempting to confront her now and force her to admit what she’s been up to, but my curiosity stops me from acting on impulse.
I follow at a distance as she heads toward the north end of town. When she pulls into the parking lot of a well-known strip club, I almost miss the turn.
There is no damn way Holland Tate is headed to a place like this.
Unless she figured out I was following her and is fucking with me.
Now that, I believe.
My brow furrows as I take in the sign and rows of expensive cars lined up in the lot. My black BMW fits right in. Anticipation clogs my lungs as I wait for her to slam out of the car and confront me.
There’s a part of me that relishes the idea of finally having it out with her.
Except, Holland never glances my way. She gets out of her car and strolls through the door like she owns the place. I sit stunned, watching as she disappears inside the building without so much as a backward glance.
What the hell is she doing in a place like this?
Meeting someone?
Working part-time as a waitress?
A hundred questions flood my brain, and not a damn one of them makes sense.
I wait a few seconds, debating if I should go in or wait out here in the parking lot.
In the end, my gnawing curiosity overrides my irritation. I glance around the inside of my car before finding a ballcap and tugging it low over my forehead as I step out of the vehicle and make my way to the entrance.
A guy in a slick suit and sunglasses at the door gives me the once-over. “ID?”
I slide my license from my wallet and hand it over. He glances at it for a second or two before studying my face and returning it.
“Enjoy yourself.”
“Thanks,” I mutter, knowing there’s no possibility of that happening.
My gaze slides over the interior. Dark wood lines the walls, giving the place a warmth I hadn’t anticipated, almost like it was designed to be inviting and intimate. The lights are dim and strategically placed, casting a soft, warm glow that makes everything feel private. Deep crimson velvet booths curve along the edges of the room, each one secluded, with plush cushions and polished black marble tables that catch the light from flickering candles.
Instead of the stale, smoky scent I’d imagined, the air is faintly spiced. Amber maybe or something else that feels unexpectedly sophisticated. The bass-heavy music thrums through the space, vibrating up through the floor in time with the rhythm of colored LED lights outlining the room. I can feel the steady pulse in my chest. It all adds to the surreal, almost hypnotic atmosphere.
The stage draws my attention. It’s raised and round, with an LED-lit walkway stretching out toward the crowd. It feels like something out of a luxury Vegas club. A polished brass pole stands in the center, catching the light from above, while rich indigo curtains frame the stage, giving it a dramatic, theatrical look.
This place is designed to make you forget the outside world. Every detail is precise, intentional, crafted to make you feel like you’ve stepped into another reality. One that’s a hell of a lot more exclusive and glamorous than I imagined.