The Alpha's Gamble - Chapter 38: Chapter 38

Uhm, so this club had had a few issues with police raids since it was frequented by the mafia and owned by a Russian cartel. But through everything, the raids, the drugs, the fights, and the rumors, it had stood strong for like ten years and carried the reputation of one of the best clubs in the state.
The last time I was here was last year with Tilly, we closed down the club and had front-row seats to three fights throughout the night, saw two wives catching their cheating husbands with strippers in the champagne lounge, and finished half the bar.
But it would seem that they have done some redecorating since then. Where there once were tinted windows with a one-way view, there were now thick wooden board panels nailed shut. The door was bolted shut with a thick chain around the handle for the extra insurance, and the bricks were spray painted with red Xs. On the door was a sign that said the club had closed down, pending investigations, and that any trespassing would result in immediate arrest.
We stood on the curb outside the club, a ghostly silence was interrupted by a whistling breeze and a glass bottle rolling down the road.
“So... this is the place, huh?” Logan clicked his tongue.
“It’s raging,”
“You’re not funny,” I pouted and kicked a rock onto the metal fence.
This wasn’t the plan. Where was the booze? The sweaty bodies pressing against each other, the loud deafening music, and the thundering lights that shut my mind off?
This wasn’t how this night was supposed to go!
“Let’s just head back.” Oh, that’s not an option. I’d rather sit on this curb and stare at the pebbles than go back to the mansion.
I turned and looked at him, an ‘as if’ expression coated my face and he caught it instantly. We’re not going back and we can’t break into the club cause I'm sure everything’s been raided from there.
Think, Maddie, there has to be another club.
Tires screeched around the corner of the complex and sped past us blasting music with a group of guys drinking out of bottles and screaming.
I whipped my head around and looked at Logan’s stern expression.
“No.” he shook his head but all I saw was a maybe that needed some persuasion to turn into a yes.
“Follow them!” I said and got in the car. After a minute of waiting patiently, I rolled down the window and stuck my head out.
“If you don’t drive after them, I will sniff them out on my own, and you can head back to Dracula’s den,” aka his home.
After a moment of huffing and puffing, he finally got his ass in the car and reluctantly shifted the gear as he sped after the guys. They would know where the new parties were.
After driving for about ten minutes, we started hearing the music. I expected to see neon lights, a line with drunken people, and a bouncer the size of the trees we passed but, uhm, yeah there was none of that. We stopped outside an apartment complex, at least eight stories tall, with windows to every apartment wide open and music blaring through each one.
The car doors slammed shut and we stood and stared up at the monstrosity. It seemed…fishy. For some reason.
Logan leaned back against the hood of the car and crossed his arms over his chest.
“I should’ve stayed at dinner.” He groaned.
“Don’t be a grouch! Come on, let’s have fun and get drunk,” I took his hand and pulled his dead weight behind me.
“Why do you always want to get drunk?” seriously? That’s coming from him?
“Is the Obsidian Pack’s own party boy judging me?” I asked and feigned offense.
The frown turned into a smile, and he chuckled as we headed inside.
Oh my god the view, it was what I would imagine anxiety to look like if it ever manifested into an object. The doors to the apartments stood wide open, people came and went, some slouched against the walls in the hallways and others were passed out on the staircase. There were groups of people sitting in the hallways smoking weed and snorting coke.
The smell of booze and incense lingered in every hallway, blending into a cloud of nausea, and a hundred conversations were going on at the same time from every direction. A girl ran down, pushed past me, and hunched in the corner where she puked relentlessly.
Okay, maybe not the fanciest party I've been to, and it was far off from my mother’s pastels and frills, I would’ve loved to drag her in here though, and see the expression on her face. Logan stood stiff beside me, his face twisted in disgust, and he wrinkled his nose when he looked at the people stumbling from one apartment to another with a bottle or cup in their hands. As long as we didn't touch too many things, I think we’d be fine.
“Come on,” I said and pulled him behind me up the stairs, swiping a bottle of Tequila from a passed-out guy and chugging it down like it was water.
I pushed the bottle into Logan’s hands and urged him to finish it off.
“This will be easier if we’re drunk,”
He chugged the bottle and tossed it aside, the glass shattering in the corner on top of a pile of broken bottles.
The parties and people continued on every floor, and with each one we visited, I swiped a new bottle, two tequilas, one vodka, three whiskeys, and something that tasted a bit like licorice, but luckily my tastebuds were dead by then, so I could barely taste it.
“If Noah catches us here,” his words came from out of nowhere when he headed into one of the apartments.
And I looked at him, wondering where his mind was and why Noah would give a damn.
“He’s not even Alpha yet, why are you so worried?” I snatched two beers from a bowl on the table and gave one to Logan.
But I didn’t get an answer.
“Drink this, and let’s dance!” I ordered. I chugged the beer, took a shot, and pulled Logan onto the dance floor where everyone was jumping and swaying to the music. One girl was shaking her ass like it was her job, and I couldn’t stop myself from staring, wanting to know how the fuck she was moving her hips like that.
When i turned to Logan, thinking that he would be salivating from her moves, i found him in a state I'd never seen him in. He was watching me, searching me, a painful gaze glimmered in his eyes and I couldn’t make sense of why he was acting so...scared.
“You don’t know what he can be like when he cares,” Logan said. His eyes were foggy, distant but I figured it was the alcohol.
“Then you’re the only one he’ll get mad at,” Noah didn't care about me, so I was in the clear.
I chugged the beer and saw a tequila bottle on the couch, nobody was touching it, so I took it, bit down on my lip, and felt oddly playful snatching a bottle like that. It felt illegal but nobody would miss it, they were all drunk out of their minds.
When I turned back, laughing at my crime and wiping my mouth with the back of my hand with a mouthful of tequila, I saw Logan’s eyes boring into mine, but his thoughts were somewhere else.
“What?” I asked. He pulled the bottle from me, took a huge gulp, and handed it back.
“It’s not me I’m worried about,” he said under his breath.