Chapter 96

The One Where He Second Guesses

NATE

I feel fucking stupid—in my way too long and much too itchy wig that makes me look like a hippie, the turtleneck that’s pulled up to my chin, the smoothness of my fully shaved jaw, and the makeup carefully placed on my skin that’s beginning to rub off.

It paints a weird fucking picture, doesn’t it? If I stopped the explanation there, you’d have no fucking clue.

The reality is, I’m dressed up again in an attempt to go incognito. I’m wearing my most ridiculous disguise yet, but it’s necessary, I promise.

The wig I managed to score from someone on the internet—I know, it’s fucking gross, but it was in a new, sealed package and I couldn’t leave any sort of paper trail. My infamous stubble has been shaved to help alter my appearance. The turtleneck is to cover my neck tattoos. And the makeup, I managed to borrow from Arielle before this all went down. It was another thing I’d prepared in case I needed it.

Mostly I’d used some thick, skin-coloured shit to do my best at covering my hand and finger tattoos. They’re much too distinctive and I’d look like a creep if I wore gloves where I am. I’d also used some eyeliner to frame my eyes—to try and make me appear goth or something, considering how little of skin I was showing and with the fact that I’m dressed in all black.

One thing about having tattoos, it makes it hard as fuck—near fucking impossible—to disguise yourself.

However, the makeup on my hands seems to be wearing off quicker than I’d anticipated. Which only makes me curious how people manage to keep it secured to their face for hours at a time. Obviously I didn’t do something correctly.

This entire night is tricky and I’ve been on edge the entire time I’ve been out, even though I feel like my disguise is decent. Hayes is gone for the night, which means that I’ve safely been given free reign—since he believes my ass is safely parked at home on the bed he has for me in his basement.

Is this moronic? Sneaking out for a lengthy period of time to spy on Arielle? Going to a nightclub where there are well over a hundred different people who will see me and potentially recognize me? Of course it is, I’m not a moron. Sometimes I make moronic decisions.

The only reason I’d made the decision to go this far is because Arielle informed Najjad that she was going out. She’d even asked for his help in choosing an outfit to wear. She was going to wear her hair up, I convinced her to have it down so it frames that beautiful face of hers.

I couldn’t waste an opportunity like this. Hayes has never left me alone for this long. I guess it’s with good reason though, because I’m sneaking out at the first chance I get.

“Hope everyone’s ready to get fucked!” Chase’s voice echoes out over the music and I nonchalantly lift my head to glance at him as he kisses Zara.

I study the six of them—Arielle, Chase, Zara, James, and who I can only assume are Jin and Nadia. They’re all sitting in a booth not too far from me. I’m close enough that I can hear their conversations, especially considering they have to raise their voices to speak over the music. However, I’m not so close that they’ll spot me. I’m hidden in a darker area of the club, obscured by not only a structural pole, but a large group of people.

As much as I want to run across the space that separates Arielle and myself, I stay where I am. It takes every-fucking-thing inside me to do so.

She looks fucking gorgeous, as she always does. With her hair falling across nearly bare shoulders in soft waves and heels so tall I want them digging into my back when I lift her to the nearest surface, push her knickers aside and fuck her hard until she’s screaming my name.

The dress she’s in has thin sparkly straps that accentuate her beautiful collarbones, with the top part appearing like a bra—modestly covering her tits, but with a see-through corseted part below it.

The dress shows off the tattoos that litter her body—from the ones inked on her sternum and ribs to the intricate lotus that follows the beautiful curve of her spine and the rose on her thigh that peeks out beneath the short hem. The fabric scoops low in the back and it makes me curious if she’s even wearing knickers beneath it.

I was right—it appears she has a butterfly tattooed beneath her heart. It’s the one she got for dead me.

The nose piercing suits her. I like it. It’s sexy and the idea of her being pierced turns me on in ways that I can’t entirely explain.

I also notice she’s still wearing parts of me. The necklace that bears my name, her thundercloud ring, and now she appears to have adopted one of my bracelets. One that I’d only recently discovered was missing. I must’ve left it at her house when I was living there, but it looks stunning wrapped around her delicate wrist so I won’t complain.

Even in death, I’m all over her body and that pleases me greatly. Even in death, she belongs to me. And I, to her.

I twirl my mountain range ring around, making sure the peaks and valleys are facing my palm. Just in case someone happens to get close.

“Fuck yeah.” I hear a voice I don’t recognize, looking up to see Arielle’s new friend—Jin, I think—as he eyes up a woman who walks past. The jealous part of me is pleased to see it. I don’t want to compete with someone else.

“Aha! This guy gets it.” Chase seems overly thrilled and it makes me miss him, too. I’ve always enjoyed his friendship and he’s always a good time. I’m curious if he misses me.

As the server passes out some drinks and shots, Chase toasts the group, “To bad decisions.” I snicker to myself, silently hoping that Chase gets into some messy shit tonight. It’d be nice to have a good laugh at the dude. He’s chronically fucking up, but it’s one of the reasons I appreciate him.

As long as he doesn’t get my girl involved in it.

“Did you roll your eyes at me, Arielle Hawthorne?” I barely hear his question, but it makes me smile. I’m forced to hide the grin on my face as a stranger squeezes past me, excusing himself.

If it were me, I’d be tempted to bend Arielle over my lap and spank that luscious ass of hers.

“And what if I did?”

Jesus, have I ever missed her smartass mouth. It’s the only one I’ve ever known to be able to keep up with mine.

I nearly get hard at the idea of how easy it’d be to lift her over the edge of the booth, hike up that short hem of her dress, and—knowing that she’s likely wearing something that could barely be considered a thong—find her bare ass that I could spank until it’s red and warm. It reminds me of the times I’ve done so before and how fucking hot it was to feel the warmth of her reddened skin through the fabric of her clothing.

Exhaling a controlled breath, I adjust myself in my jeans. There’s only one woman who can turn me on this easily. If anybody is paying attention to me, I probably look like some fucked up pervert in the corner, Jesus.

“I never said I was here to make bad decisions,” she tells him after giving him a playful shove.

Good girl.

He’s trying to play the devil on her shoulder. It relieves me incredibly to know that Chase can’t get into her head to make her do stupid shit that easily. As it is, I’m surprised that after nearly five months, she’s already comfortable enough to go clubbing.

The asinine part of me feels upset that she appears to be over me so quickly. She’s done up from head to toe, as if she’s looking good for someone else and it doesn’t make me happy, to say the least. It makes me jealous and possessive.

However, there’s also a part of me that is so overwhelmingly elated to see that she’s not suffering at the loss of me. If there’s one thing I wanted in all of this trauma, it was for her to eventually be happy. I don’t want her to wallow in misery and heartbreak. For every minute that she’s depressed, I’m the same for four times that. It destroys me to know that I caused her any pain, so seeing her doing alright is a comfort.

“I beg to differ. Every night with me ends in bad decisions being made.”

I mean, he’s not exactly wrong. Him and I often seem to get into some random and wild shit when we’re together. I think—especially while drinking—Chase tends to bring out the crazier side in people.

Arielle’s new friend—Nadia, is her name, I believe—says something, but since she’s on the other side of the table, I can’t make it out. She raises her voice as she tells Arielle, “When you said that Jin and I remind you of you and your best friend—I get it.”

Something about that makes me smile. It’s nice to know that Arielle has found people that remind her of people she considers family. That remind her of home.

“Like brother and sister,” Arielle tells the group as they all cheers again.

I observe Chase as he leans in close to her, whispering something that I can’t make out. Whatever it is, causes Arielle to choke on her drink—what looks like a mojito, perhaps?

Why did James order her an open drink like that? I would’ve ordered her an unopened beer—how she likes it.

He speaks something else to her, retracting to plaster on a smile that tells me he’s up to no good. Whatever he’s said to her is obviously said to tease and piss her off and he’s succeeding in doing so.

It’s nice to see some things haven’t changed.

As she’s answering him in a quiet voice, I try my best to lean in and hear, but a woman pushes in front of me and I’m forced even further away from Arielle. Mumbling a few curse words under my breath, I try to catch the conversation I’m missing, but by the time I’m back, Chase is grabbing hold of Zara and taking her elsewhere.