Lust (The Elite Seven #1)(23)

Pulling over, I cut the engine and snatch the invitation from his hand.

“Who gave you yours?” I demand, checking the thing over for any clue that this is really it, our way in.

Pulling out a vape pen, he takes a hearty pull, then fills the car with a cloud of cannabis scented vapor.

“You getting high?” I ask.

“Fuck yeah I am.”

“Since when do you vape?”

Grinning he shrugs. “Some kid sold it to me.”

Snatching the vape pen, I take a hit. “Woot! This is it!” I yell.

“Fuck yeah it is. Let’s go get showered and shit. I have some clothes being delivered to the house. We need to look the part.” He grins.

Yeah we do.




Looking good has always been something that came easy to me, but tonight I feel good too.

This is what I’ve wanted and been working toward, and tonight could be the night it happens for me.

God had outfits sent over that reeked of wealth and superiority. The watch hanging from my wrist costs more than my car, thanks to God’s jeweler loaning me the twenty-four carat gold Rolex.

The invitation was scanned for an invisible barcode when we arrived, and unlike we assumed, we were directed to elevators taking us to a club above Envy, not below it.

God gives me an approving nod when the elevator doors open and music caresses over us like a soft wave hitting the shore. Unlike most clubs, the bass doesn’t shake the room. Instead, a rhythmic pulse emits through the room, giving it a heart beat.

Bodies grind and sway on a dance floor lit up by white strobe lights, moving with the beat of the music. Glass tables that look like they were sculpted from crystal line the back walls and are occupied.

There are people of all ages enjoying themselves, and the vibe is on a level I’ve never experienced before.

Liquor is placed on tables by the bottle delivered by barmaids wearing tight, all black pantsuits. The fabric hugs their figures in an alluring manner without being sleazy.

God pulls out his black credit card and slides it across the bar. “Let’s get wasted.” He rolls his head over his shoulders and slaps my back. The bartender places drinks in front of us, but shakes his head at the credit card, pushing it back to God. Drinks are free.

Jackpot.




There are multiple private rooms throughout the club. Lights are muted inside these rooms, just a blue hue emanating from the ceiling. Alcohol stirs, intoxicating my thoughts.

Women dance around me, grinding their bodies against the hard ridges of mine.

Crooking a finger, a blonde makes a show of placing a pill on her tongue, then takes my mouth with hers, transferring the drug to me.

Our tongues dual and bodies mingle, music pulsing through me. I become part of it, my essence entering the atmosphere around me like the vapor from God’s pen.

Everything feels too fucking good. More drinks are consumed, until it feels like I’m living outside my body on another plane of existence.

I’m losing myself.

My eyelids heavy. My limbs sluggish. My mind gone.

I’m floating in the emptiness of space.





Fog clouds my mind, and I hear Robbie calling to me through the haze.

“Rhett, don’t forget about me.”

I won’t, I promise.

I promise.

I promise.

Water soaks my body as rain punishes down on me. The drops turn to acid, corroding my skin, burning me through to the bone. The sounds chop and change as my vision swims in and out, and there’s a constant ringing humming through the torrent.

RING. RING. RING.

Everything is gray, dripping down the walls of my subconscious, until the images bleed into nothing and I’m pulled into consciousness.

My heartbeat is erratic and too loud in my ears. Sweat dampens my skin, saturating the sheets I find myself on.

The ringing is coming from my pocket. I’m in my bed. What the fuck? I don’t even remember leaving the club. I’m shirtless, but still wearing the black jeans that look like melted black crayon against my skin. My flesh hums with an itch of a thousand tiny legs crawling under the surface. My head is groggy as fuck.

The ringing stops and immediately starts up again. I fish my cell from my pocket, and something comes with it, dropping to the floor with a clink.

Leaning over the side of the bed, I will the nausea to retreat and frown at the gold coin laying on the floor.

A skull image with writing beneath it decorates one side. Picking it up, I flick it over in my palm. The Elite Seven is embossed on the other side, and a tingle spreads throughout my body. My cell shrills in my hand, and God’s name flashes on the screen. I swipe to answer his call.

“About time,” his voice echoes down the line, but it’s too close. My door pushes open, and God waltzes in, throwing his cell down on the bed and then catapulting himself onto the space next to me.

“I’ve been trying to call you for hours.” He looks tired. Shades cover his eyes, but his skin is paler than usual.

“I don’t even remember getting back here,” I tell him. “I woke up with this.” I offer him the coin, and he sits up on one elbow, taking the coin and grinning.

Handing it back to me, he burrows into his own pocket and pulls out a replica.

“Check your bedside table,” he croaks.

I do, and find another invitation with coordinates and nothing else.