Chapter 82
Party pooper on the other side didn't like that. "We're here." Rohan opened the door and yanked me out.
That won him zero points with Brickie and the security trio, since Samson scooted out, hot on our heels, causing the other four to scramble after us like Keystone Cops from those old silent movies that I'd seen in a film studies class during my brief university stint.
I looked at the nondescript club. More of a warehouse really. Despite the line of sulky beautiful people clamoring to get in, one look at Samson and Rohan now flanking me, and the bouncer lowered the rope. I could get used to this.
Inside the foyer, I handed one of the boys my coat, graciously allowing him to check it. Sashaying down a short hallway, I stepped through a doorway and found myself in a giant black box. Lights pulsed, bass throbbed, and bodies writhed.
Rohan placed his hands on my hips, forcing me to stand still. Even though he'd come up behind me, I knew it was him. I always knew it was him.