Page 251 of When We Fall: Part Two
His.
He mentioned he didn’t spend much time there, and I was welcome to take one of the bedrooms if I wanted.
I laughed and told him no at the time, but after viewing countless apartments that wouldn’t work out for one reason or another, I was getting desperate. Hotel living wasn’t cheap.
I knew I had the money Fox left me, but I didn’t want to spend it. It felt like I’d be letting go of pieces of him at a time.
The thought made me panic, so I transferred all his money into a new savings account to keep it separate from my own. His Jeep still sat at our house. I couldn’t bring myself to take it from his parking spot. I had no idea what Enzo planned on doing with it.
I hoped it sat as a shrine to remind him of all the shit he’d done to ruin countless lives.
Some of my clothes from the house had been delivered to me today at the hotel, so clearly, Enzo was cleaning the place out.
Sighing, I looked at my watch. It was almost nine, and I was bored. Deciding maybe I should take Jamie’s advice and go out and meet new people, I got up and grabbed one of the many dresses that had made their way to me.
A red number Cole had picked out caught my eye. Short. Low cut. I stared down at it, wanting to put it on and have someone else kiss me while wearing it.
It was messed up, but hey, love and hate could really screw with a girl’s head.
I stripped down, then put on the dress and added strappy black heels. I did my makeup and fluffed my curls before staring at myself in the mirror.
Nervously, I breathed out.
I could do this.
For a moment, I considered calling Ryder to see if he wanted to hang out. I could be a wing woman for him. But then I thought about his connection to Anson and decided against it.
I left the hotel and hailed a cab, telling him to take me to any club where I could drink without issues.
He said he knew a perfect place.
After a ride through the city, we stopped at a place called Blades. It looked fancy.
“You shouldn’t have an issue getting in,” the driver said, looking at me through the rearview mirror. “Not looking like that.”
I thanked him and checked out the line to get in. For a moment, I thought about running back to the cab. Waiting in a long line all night didn’t sound like fun. Instead, I forced myself forward, figuring I’d try my luck at the door. If they wouldn’t let me in, I’d just find another place.
I walked past the people waiting in line, the pounding music from the club echoing outside.
“Um, hi,” I said awkwardly.
The large bouncer looked at me. “Name?”
“Name?”
“For the list. You only get in if your name is on the list,” he said. “Otherwise, you have to wait in line.”
“Oh, um, Rosalie Bishop,” I said, wincing. This was going to be embarrassing when my name didn’t pop up.
He scanned the list for a moment before nodding and letting me pass through the velvet rope.
Dumbfounded, I went to the door.
What the hell?
Figuring not to tempt fate, I stepped into the club.
Lavish didn’t even begin to describe the place. Purples. Reds. Blues. Greens. Velvet. Huge dance floor. Three levels. So many bars. A stage.
