CHAPTER 1

"We’ll go out to the club together- just the two of us, no parents or anything,” words I had never thought would escape the mouth of my best friend as we were discussing what to do for my birthday.

“What?” Had I heard correctly? Or was my hearing starting to bail on me. Hannah knew that I wasn’t one to go out partying and well- certainly not to the club. I much preferred staying indoors, reading and annotating books, watching TV shows, those sorts of introverted things.

“Come on Leara, you’re turning eighteen! You have to live at least once, just try it!” Hannah begged- no she demanded me.

“No way! You know how much I hate those sorts of things! The noise, the lights, and the people are one thing- I cant even stand them in a school environment. But mix that with alcohol, drugs, and horny guys- it’s a cocktail for disaster. No fricking way I’m spending my birthday at a night club.” I stated my case; Hannah frowned disapprovingly.

“Nope,” she persisted bluntly, “there is no way in hell that you are getting out of this one sister. You and I are spending your eighteenth birthday at the club, having a good time, and living life,” she had made up her mind, there was no changing it.

I stared blankly at her for a solid minute. Her wispy charcoal hair blew in the breeze, and she wore that toothy ‘I know I’m better than you’ smile plastered across her olive face. I turned my back away from her, pissed off would be an understatement to say the least.

“Fuck you,” I glanced back around and scrunched up my nose, letting out a toothless smile.

“See you at eight bitch, be ready outside or I’ll drag you out that door,” she threw her keys up in the air and proceeded to waltz to her car, victorious. I groaned and moped back inside the house, dragging my feet up the stairs as I went, my eighteenth birthday in hell.

I needed to invest in some new friends.

I also needed to invest in an outfit that didn’t say ‘spike my drink and take me home with you’. Seriously though, all Hannah wanted to do was find some random ass guy who was mildly good looking to take her home and sleep with her. What a whore. My birthday was just an excuse to go to the club, otherwise her parents would shoot her on the spot if they knew half of the stuff she was doing.

Browsing my cupboard, I couldn’t find much. We had always gone shopping; the mall was one of the few places I went other than school or my bedroom. Hannah and I would buy skanky dresses as jokes, knowing full well that I would never go anywhere fun enough to wear one.

But here I was looking through my wardrobe trying to decide what skanky dress was the least skanky. Pulling one from the coat hanger I examined a tight and hot pink dress that wrapped around my slim figure like a blanket. Sure, it was the modest looking thing I had in that cupboard, but it still only reached just above my mid-thigh.

I tightened the spaghetti straps and tried to cover myself the best I could with a cropped denim jacket. I slipped on some sparkly golden heals and grabbed a clutch on my way out.

Eight rolled around quicker then what I would have liked it to as I found myself walking out the door to Hannah beeping her car horn at a million times a minute.

“Get in the car bitch!” she shouted and waved me down with her bangle covered arm. I flung open the passenger door and hopped in next to her, taking a moment to assess what the hell she had chosen to wear- and let me tell you, that dress was a poor excuse for a piece of clothing.

“What the fuck is that?” I scoffed, allowing the lump in my throat to surface.

“A dress dumbass,” she hit me, offended. That thing was skanky af. I mean, it was a baby blue colour, sleeveless, she was practically flashing both top and bottom to everyone. It looked like she had just gotten a toddler’s bath towel and thrown it around her with some pins to keep it in place. DIY dresses right here much.

“You’re going to attract the wrong kind of attention,” I muttered, loathing her for making me come with her tonight. I shot her a displeased look from the corner of my eye, but she remained unbothered. She turned the keys in their socket and revved the engine, backing out of my driveway and beginning our road to hell.

“It’s part of living Leara, you have to meet boys at some stage. I know how to have fun and trust me, I know what I’m doing, remind me, how many times have you gone out partying?” damn she had me there. Normally I would be the one fighting until I came out on top and right, but she had uno reversed me right there.

“None,” I gritted my teeth together and clenched my jaw, muttering the word in shame.

“You gotta trust me sister, there are gonna be some steamy guys in there and at least one of them is gonna want to invest in that,” she nodded to me. I scowled.

“I’m not an object and I’m not for sale Hannah, you shouldn’t let people walk all over you like that either, you’re worth more than that,” I tried to reason with her.

“I told you already,” she groaned and leant her head back, “it’s called living life and having fun. You’ll be old and wrinkly before you know it. You have to take some chances whilst you still have them,” she tried to explain.

I shook my head and turned to gaze out of the window, knowing full well that I was loosing this argument.

“Truth or dare?” she asked as I furrowed my eyebrows and faced her, “if you pick truth I’ll make you come with me tomorrow night as well,” she chuckled. Fuck.

“Dare,” I rolled my eyes. She could be so childish.

“I dare you to kiss a guy by the end of the night, no- I double dare you to go home with him,” she let out a snort followed by more laughter. Wow, so funny.

“No way, that’s just stupid,” I shook my head and scowled at her.

“Fine then, at least go to the bathroom stalls or something, one make out session isn’t going to kill you,” she bargained. I wasn’t getting out of this and kissing someone in the bathroom was something I could fake, I just needed to find someone who was just as keen to be there as I was, and we could mope together.

“Whatever, fine,” I shrugged as she pulled the car up on the outskirts of the city. Both of us had lived in California for all our lives; we met in elementary school back when we were just kids. Somehow we had stayed friends even with all of this bullshit.

“Get out of the car,” Hannah yanked at my arm and dragged me to my feet. My eyes were paining from just hearing the music out here.

“Do we have to go in?” I groaned and threw my arms at my side like a spoilt child being refused lollies in the supermarket. Hannah sighed and pulled at my arm, continuing to lead me inside like a puppy.

“Yes! Now come on!” she handed the security guard our tickets and we entered inside. My nose scrunched at the sudden whiff of alcohol that was shoved in my face. The place was packed out, people dancing shoulder to shoulder with their drinks spilling and splashing all over the floor so that it looked like a less appealing version of slip and slide.

“I’m going to get a drink, come on,” Hannah yelled over the music, and even so it was hard to understand her. I nodded briefly and made my way over to the bar.

“What can I get you ladies?” I looked up to meet the eyes of a Russian man with a thick and heavy accent, he had tattoos running down the side of his neck and into a sleeve. His hand was covered in rings of all shapes and sizes, and one of his ears were pieced all the way up. He wore a button up black shirt from which I could see his ab outlines. I noticed his hair, it was tied up in a man bun and was a chestnut brown, containing small streaks of lighter brown.

“Just a shot of vodka thank you,” I smiled uncomfortably at him, which he must have noticed because his face shifted.

“Let me get you ladies something more exotic, help you loosen up a little, on the house,” he smiled and turned his back to us before I could refuse. I took a nervous glance towards Hannah who shrugged and went back to being mesmerised by the man’s bar tending skills as he mixed up a cocktail.

He handed us two bright blue cocktails, I looked from the mysterious drink to the man, trying to remain polite.

“Thank you,” I offered a gentle smile and turned to leave before the man spoke again.

“Wait-” I turned back around abruptly, he shifted on his feet a little, “if you want, I finish at eleven, come chat,” he yelled over the music, I blinked three times, stunned, before snapping back into reality.

“Um yeah, maybe, I’ll think about it,” I nodded. I couldn’t be mean; this dude had just made me a free drink.

Hannah and I made our way to the dance floor, her trying to catch the attention of every guy she saw, and me- well, I was trying to avoid being looked at by every guy in this entire building. I drowned the unknown substance I had been given at the bar and spluttered as it burned the back of my throat.

“Hey gorgeous,” I turned to see some guy behind me, looking me up and down.

“Fuck off,” I stuck up my middle finger and gave him my glass before going to find Hannah.

“You having fun yet?” she yelled over the annoyingly loud music as she threw her arms in the air and swayed her hips against some guy she had found to dance with her.

“I’m going outside, I need some air,” I went to turn away, but she grabbed my wrist.

“just be back soon- we had a promise, remember?” she looked me dead in the eyes. Shit.

“fine, whatever,” I rolled my eyes and proceeded to find the front door and ignore any looks I got on the way there.

I breathed in the fresh air and my lungs caved in; it was holy. I took off my heels, they made my feet scream, and sat down on the sidewalk. I breathed and rubbed my blistered heels, that was when a car pulled up.

A car that was way too fancy ass for the area. I looked up to examine it, an Audi R8 had just rocked up beside me and the doors opened. I stood up to avoid being trampled over and that’s when I saw the occupants of this overpriced vehicle.

Five men, all dressed in pricy suits stood in front of me, an ear piece in some of their ears, my eyes were drawn to their sides, holsters. That meant guns. My hands shook violently, and I forgot how to speak or move. All that came out of my mouth was a tiny whimper, like a wounded dog.

“Get her,” one of the men said in a cold and emotionless tone, leaning back on the car and cupping his hand to light a cigarette, offering me a sick smile.

“Get her,” I repeated his voice in my head like a broken record, still unable to make my feet move.