Page 82 of Their Wicked Ways

Using my thumb, I scrolled to the next video.

“Do you know what happens when?—”

“Have you ever wanted to make bread but?—”

“I was today years old when I learned?—”

Staring blankly at my phone screen, I scrolled through the videos on my FYP. What the fuck happened to my algorithm? None of this was my usual content.

A familiar stage caught my attention. I froze, letting the video play as the guys from Crimson performed one of their closing numbers.

Nick and Quinn had started social media channels for the club a few months ago, but it wasn’t often their videos randomly showed up on my FYP, even though I followed them.

Instead of being happy the club was getting exposure or enjoying watching my insanely hot coworkers gyrate around the stage half-naked, loneliness tugged at my chest.

It was Friday night, and I was sitting in my apartment alone while everyone else was at work. Things had been slow at theclub lately, and Biggs had cut the bar staff’s hours. I wasn’t scheduled to work at all this week.

I wasn’t used to having my weekends off, and I had no idea what to do with myself.

Chanel was working, and Becca was busy being a mom. The guys were all at Crimson, and Wes and Ez were at Envy, picking up some random so they could forget about me.

Hurt warred with the loneliness that was threatening to take over as I stared at my phone, not even blinking when River and Zane did some of their insane tumbling, flipping, and tossing each other around like gravity wasn’t a thing.

I’d overheard Ez and Wes during our break on Friday talking about going back to Envy tonight. They hadn’t expressly said they were going to pick someone up, but why else would they go? That was their thing, right? That was how they found me.

My sadness melted into anger, and I scrolled past the video without interacting with it, too hurt to care about boosting the club’s channels.

I made it about three seconds into the next video before I had to scroll again. The happy-as-fuck couple making moon eyes at each other while they did one of the viral dance challenges going around only reminded me of how alone I was. It didn’t help that they were my age, and the guy had the same general build and dark hair that I did. I’d never had that kind of connection with anyone. Never shared those long looks or adoring gazes with someone. Not even when I was married.

The next video wasn’t any better, and more anger flowed through me as two ridiculously hot guys, one with dark hair and tattoos and the other with blond hair and a bright smile, did one of those transition videos where they started off fully clothed and did a cool effect to flip to a clip of them in leather pants and not much else.

I wasn’t really into fetish gear, but the tight fit of the pants and how they clung low on their hips, showing off their incredible bodies, was hot.

And of course they reminded me of Ez and Wes and how they were probably getting ready to go out in their club wear.

Angrily, I closed down TikTok and opened my texts.

Who would I text? Everyone was busy.

Now the loneliness hung over me like a dark cloud, slowly closing in on me like a boa constrictor squeezing its prey.

Loneliness that was all too familiar.

I might have grown up in a big family and a tight-knit community, but I’d always felt like an outsider looking in. Like I didn’t really belong there and no one would miss me if I disappeared.

And I’d been right. No one cared that I was gone. No one missed me. They missed what I did for them, but they didn’t missme.

If they did, they would have kept in touch. They would have cared enough to pick up the phone and message me. They wouldn’t have ignored me when I tried to reach out to them.

Instead, the people I thought were my friends had abandoned me. My family had disowned me. And my community had betrayed me.

All because I wasn’t who they wanted me to be.

Angrily, I tossed my phone onto the couch and jumped up, needing to pace or move. To do something to stop the itchy feeling in my brain and the restlessness in my body.

It was stupid, but what I wanted more than anything in the world right then was a hug. Just a regular hug from someone who cared about me. Something, anything, to help me feel less alone and remind me what genuine affection felt like.

My apartment wasn’t big enough for pacing, but that didn’t stop me. I stalked across the room in four big strides, then turned on my heel to head back and repeat the pattern.