Page 21 of The Red Room
NINE
The driver doesn’task questions thankfully enough, though I do catch him staring at me in the rearview a few times. Maybe I didn’t think this through before barreling down to the street from my loft, and now, part of me wishes I would’ve had the foresight to wear a bra. Crossing my arms, I stare out the window, imagining all the things I will say, no, scream at him before I hurl the necklace at his face.
Why?is the question beating in my head like a fucking gavel. Why would he send this to me? Did Nik really think I’d wear it? Some fond memory of the man who gave me one of the best nights of my life only to leave me outside of his club when the doors slammed shut? New tears build in my eyes, but I blink them back and tighten my arms around my breasts when the driver gives the rear-view another peek. No free shows today, Mr. Perve. There will be one performance tonight, and this one is reserved for a special guest.Nikolai Vostik.
We arrive at Völk after a fifteen-minute car ride and more disgusting glances than I care to count. I wrench open the door, tapping on my phone in rapid fashion. Might be two starsor three I gift him. Not quite sure. Nor do I care. His rating will only tank in the coming week if any of his other pickups are given the same treatment. There’s only one thing on my mind right now. One person to be exact. And standing outside the sun-spotted Toyota Prius, the familiar scent of cedar seemingly invites me up the long staircase to his club.
It’s cold now, colder than I would’ve expected. There isn’t the usual body heat of people clamoring to get inside. No, the sidewalks are vacant, and at the entrance, there isn’t a rope keeping the crowd at bay, there’s only silence. The moonlight kisses my cheeks, cast fully in the sky and highlighting the areas streetlamps wouldn’t dare to touch. Those that worked any way.
“You sure you wanna be left here?” the driver asks out of the partially open window.
Left on a deserted street or get ogled the entire drive back to my loft? Tough decision.
“I’ll be fine,” I say, peering up at the hollow shell that is the hottest nightclub any other day of the week. There’s something eerie about it tonight. A stark contrast to the life it has with music vibrating the sidewalks and lights beaming to the heavens. Now, it looks utterly abandoned.
“Suit yourself,” he shouts out his open passenger window and pulls away, the taillights like two red eyes wincing at me until they ultimately fade from view. Only the hiss of the sewer grates accompanies me now, taking each step to the front doors of Völk as if I’m exploring trap-filled ruins.
I got your present, I rehearse in my head. No, that’s all wrong.I don’t want your fucking necklace.Maybe a little moreumpf.Take your fucking necklace and stay the hell away from me!Better, but still needs work. I really wish I would’ve thought of something sooner, and now, all the things I want to jab at him seem childish.You were dumped. Get over it, Natalie.But it’s kind of hard to get over someone when they rub it in your faceby leaving gifts on your doorstep. He doesn’t want me to come around anymore?Fine.The same goes for him.
I take the steps slowly, almost waiting for a bouncer to jump out from behind and drag me back to the deserted street. No one does, thankfully enough, but there’s still an underlying hesitation building inside of me to go further. As angry as I am, this isn’t something I would do. I’ve never confronted anyone, not even my own mother every time she gives me advice I never ask for. Yet, here I am, standing outside of an abandoned Völk, ready to show Nik he was right. I’m nothing like the women inhisclub, and he’s not going to play games with my fucking head the way he probably does with them. Veronica Tate might’ve been his most recent victim, and although my empathy doesn’t quite reach someone as deserving of torment as Veronica, I can’t help but wonder if he fed me all the same bullshit he did to her.
Pulling on the door handle at the entrance, it doesn’t give, not even a single inch. I didn’t really think this part through either.Shit.Getting here wasn’t an issue. Getting inside, however, a fucking big one. I roll my eyes.Great job, Natalie.Now what am I going to do?Pound on the front doors and hope someone’s inside? Scream the curses I wish to spew at Nik in the middle of the street where the only sign of life is a newspaper floating in the last of the evening drafts?Great. Just fucking great.
The lights on a keypad next to the door catch my attention, buttons similar to the ones outside Nik’s loft. He typed in the combination fast, but it wasn’t difficult to keep up. Eleven, seventeen, zero eight. Surely, Nik wouldn’t have the same password for the entire club. Then again, maybe he would. He runs it, after all. And it’s not exactly breaking and entering if I have a code to get in. I’m just … returning his property.
I type in the code, praying this thing isn’t rigged to some security system that will blare an alarm down the block.My heart beating faster when I key in the final numbers. The sequence sits on a red LED screen for a moment as sweat beads down my forehead and cheeks.What are you doing Natalie? Why the hell are you here?The digits flash and disappear one at a time, each beeping like the countdown timer of a bomb. I’m going to jail. I am breaking into the club of a man who told me not to come back, and instead of listening, I’ve taken it upon myself to be escorted out in handcuffs. A part of me wants to run, sprint down the sidewalk if need be, as long as it’d get me the hell away from the front doors before the password finishes ticking in. Something else keeps me there though, wrapped around my fingers glinting silver off the moonlight.
A green light flashes when the red eight vanishes on the keypad, and after a low groan, an audibleclickresonates.I tug on the handle again, this time only fighting against the hinges. The door swings open, and although it’s heavy, I manage to pull it wide enough to squeeze inside.
“Nik?” I say into the hollow silence of the club. One of the ceiling lights is on, doing little else than showcasing the emptiness of the large room. There’s nothing. No dancing. No bartender fixing cocktails. No music. It’s like Völk is a creature that finally went into hibernation, sleeping off the season in pure silence.
Each of my steps echoes and vibrates the floors. I glance again at every inch of the club, waiting for some kind of movement.
Nothing. Only the unnatural stillness and burning temperature greet me. No one’s here. Probably for the best. I can leave the necklace in his loft and get the hell out of here before I’m dragged out by the city’s finest. Nik will get the hint. Sure, not as satisfying as seeing his stupid, handsome, okay—stupidly handsome face—when I deny keeping this necklace, but it will have to do.
Trailing up the staircase to his loft, I clench the silver band tightly as it sways in my fingertips. Eleven, seventeen, zero eight, I say in my head and type it in. The hatch-style door opens, the metal moaning like a vengeful spirit. There’s something else though. Not the door itself, but another metallic ringing in the loft. It grows louder when I step inside, rustling the way a stack of coins might crash into each other.
No. Not coins.
Chains.
“Natalia? Wha—what are you doing here?” Nik says, pure panic in his thick voice.
He’s standing on some sort of makeshift platform, tied down by chains wrapped around each wrist keeping him in place. His long dark hair drapes down each bare shoulder, and scars form thick lines over his exposed chest and stomach. There’s four of them. Four distinct lines running down his muscular chest to the chiseled body beneath it. And as my gaze drops, I notice the rest of him is just as exposed. The fleshy canyons of his hips veers downward, drawing my attention even lower. Despite many attempts to peel my attention away from him, my eyes seem to land on three different things. His startled face, his unclothed body, and finally, the unsheathed cock out for the rest of the world to see.
Rage boils inside me. Rage and well, if I’m being honest with myself, a blush I can’t fucking hide no matter how hard I try looking at him fully.Here’s a necklace, Natalie. Now excuse me while I perform some bondage fetish chained to the floor in my loft.Disgust wipes away any of the red creeping to my cheeks. I turn my glare away from him. “Am I interrupting something?”
Too good to be true indeed.Everything he said to me last night was bullshit and here’s the proof. Now I’m waiting for Veronica to pop out and laugh in my face. She probably orchestrated this whole thing. Told Nik to get my hopes up onlyto keep me in the place she was so fond of reminding me I belonged in during high school. Beneath her.
“You shouldn’t be here. You have to go. Now!” he pleads, the whites of his eyes growing wide. He struggles with the chains, rattling the thick woven loops together. “Go. Go now!”
“You really are fucking horrible, you know that?” I hold the necklace in front of me, and the moon and cloud swings like a pendulum. “You bring me up here, dance with me,kiss me, and leave me on the street because apparently I wasn’t enough for the great Nikolai Vostik.”
“You have to understand—” He pauses and groans, his face distorting.
I take another step forward and meet his eyes. “Was I just some fucking game to you? See if you could make me fall for you as a joke?”
“Please, Natalia. You really can’t be here right now,” he says, fear trampling his face.