The name of the darkest underground club in town floats in my hazy brain.
It’s for the wealthy, the secretive, the criminals.
It’s shady, but it’s where all the elites and those that cater to them go.
My clothes won’t get me into the club. Even if I were dressed up, I wouldn’t get in. It’s invitation only.
But somehow, I know that’s where Enzo is. If he’s there, he’ll let me in. And if he’s not, then I’ll find a way in. I’ll find someone who knows him.
Because Enzo is the only way I’ll get my answers. The club is where all the darkest creatures that crawl the earth lurk. If Enzo is still alive, he’ll be there.
I shouldn’t go. I should stay far away from the man who sold me, but I can’t. I need answers more than I need to live. I’ll be breaking our deal by coming back to Miami, by not staying away, but Enzo broke our deal first when he had me taken.
13
Kai
The door to Surrender looms across the street from where I stand. I can’t make my legs move toward the door, but I can’t walk away either.
There is no sign above the frame—no advertisement as to what sins men partake in behind the door.
There is nothing to indicate that anything happens here or that this is even a club.
It’s simply an unmarked door. I shouldn’t know it exists, but when I was fifteen, I was desperate for money. To eat. To survive. And to pay off my father’s debts. Debts he accrued when my mother fought a long battle against cancer.
I found a boy at school who sold drugs and offered to help him to make some quick cash. So I sold weed; I couldn’t bring myself to sell anything harder. But this is where he wanted to meet me, outside this club. This is where most of his clients were, and that’s how I knew this place existed.
It’s exclusive and private.
No one knows about the club or gets in without an invite.
There is no way I’ll get in.
But I have to get in.
I try not to seem too interested as I stare at the door. I’m sure a hundred security cameras are looking at me right now, cameras that extend well beyond the door of the club. A place like this needs to know who is approaching. They need to know if the person is dangerous or one of their members before they even decide if they are letting them in or not.
I scan the top of the brick building but don’t see any cameras. No guard stands outside the door, but I have no doubt there is one inside. I may make it through the door, but that may be as far as they will let me go. They could kill me for just knowing about the club when I shouldn’t. And even if I make it to Enzo, even if I get my answers, he will kill me.
This is a suicide mission.
But at least I’ll have my answers.
I stop stalling, and I walk slowly toward the door, like Enzo might jump out and aim a gun at me at any moment.
Nothing happens.
I hesitate at the door. I have to be the old Kai. The one who could walk and talk her way into anything. I didn’t have curves, or a body men would die for, but I knew how to exude strength and confidence.
I close my eyes. I am her.
I open my eyes as I open the door and push myself inside the den of the most evil men in the world—men who kill, torture, and sell women.
I expect arms to grip me. A man to tackle me. Some movement to try to throw me out. So when I feel nothing but the warm air of the club against my cold skin, I exhale sharply. I’m emitting steam and ice in a
place built of fire.
I force myself to keep my head high and meet the customers’ eyes as I walk into the large room holding men seated at tables with drinks and half-naked women dancing around them.