Page 84 of Prey

I couldn’t imagine what it would be like with two men, and those two looked like rough bikers.

This was probably where members of the MC hung out, and I wondered if someone would recognize me as the girl who sent their VP to prison.

I lowered the cap I had on, covering the top half of my face.

Even from inside the car, I could hear the booming music coming from inside the bar.

This wasn’t my scene.

I was never really one to go where it was crowded or loud, and here I was… stalking myboyfriendas if this was normal for me.

What was I even doing here?

I didn’t know.

I just knew that if he kept ignoring me like this, I would go fucking insane.

I should hate the person I had become with him.

Wasn’t the whole point of a relationship to improve who you were as a person?

I didn’t know.

Taking a deep breath and bracing myself for whatever might happen once I got in, I opened the car door and climbed out.

The music was already giving me a headache. The scent of cigarette smoke, weed, and body odor didn’t fucking help.

What the hell was Roman doing here?

And was he here on some sort of club business?

I shook my head.

Who the hell could conduct business with all this noise?

I doubted this was where they heldchurch.

I pushed the door open, and no one even turned my way.

Probably because I had more clothing on than all the women here, who were all showing various degrees of skin.

In fact, I stood out a little because of the way I dressed, in black leggings, black boots, a huge sweatshirt, and a muted blue cap on my head.

No one seemed to recognize me, and I considered that a blessing.

Noises coming from the bar drew my attention first, and I turned and found a woman dressed in jeans shorts, black ankle boots, high heels, and what looked like a black lacy bra top, dancing on the bar top.

I half expected her to fall off when she started to bend down to twerk, but she was amazingly well-balanced.

Once the song finished and she stood up, I almost wanted to applaud, but I was sure that would just make me look like a dork, so I turned away and walked further into the bar.

I coughed when someone blew their cigarette smoke into my face. I looked up to see a mean-looking man staring at me with a smirk on his face.

“Are you lost, baby?” he asked me, his voice gruff, probably from years of smoking.

I didn’t answer him, moving out of the way when it looked like he was about to grab me. Luckily he missed, and seemed to leave me alone, or perhaps he was too drunk or too high to put in the effort.

I could feel my face getting red from the mounting frustration I was in, and just when I was about to give up and leave, the crowd parted, almost by magic, revealing Roman sitting in the back.

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