Page 17 of Ripped Veil (Ripped Bratva)

Thundering footsteps echo in my ears. They’re closing in—fast.

I just ran God-only-knows-how-many miles barefoot through the desert to even get here. The soles of my feet are raw and bleeding. There’s no way I can outrun these masked monsters for much longer.

“Fucking grab her!” yells a man with a voice like a chainsaw. A sickly spice cloaks the air as I dart past a room filled with more naked, gyrating patrons.

I turn my head back in the direction I’m running just in time to avoid colliding into a server girl holding a tray of beverages. She’s wearing a tiny black triangle of cloth over her breasts and private parts. It doesn’t cover much. I suppose that’s probably the point.

“Hey!” she hisses. “Watch it, zombie bride.”

Zombie bride?It registers only a second later that I’m still wearing a ripped, bloodstained wedding dress. I stick out like a sore thumb.

But, considering the alternatives for clothing on display around me, I actually prefer to be wearing this.

I mutter an apology as I dart through the room. Some of the men barely notice me. Others look up in amusement.

“Why don’t you slow down and hang out for a while, babe?” I hear one man call out to me. “I wouldn’t mind ass-fucking a little she-devil newlywed.”

I don’t have time to cringe at the terrifying comment. Instead, I fly out of the room through a door on the opposite side.

The space I enter is massive. Lights hang from the ceiling, each one a different color that pulses unnaturally, setting off a chaos of swirling patterns on the floor below. My eyes go crazy at the disorienting sight and the pain in my head worsens.

Dancers cluster in the center of the room, grinding together just below the lights. The smell of alcohol burns my nostrils as I try to maneuver past them, but they bump and flop and crash into me as if I’m not here at all.

I turn on the spot, trying to find a door out of here. But I don’t see anything. And the world just keeps spinning faster and faster, those bright lights flickering and pulsing, the people whirling and writhing…

“Hey there, bridezilla, wanna dance?” I cringe away from the reedy man who snares my arm.

His fingers encircle my wrist painfully, so I act on instinct. My free hand lashes out in the shape of a claw and I swipe at his face.

He shrieks in pain and releases me immediately. When he looks back up, hate in his eyes, I realize I’ve left three long, bloody scratches down his cheek. Before he can recover enough to take his revenge, I fly in the opposite direction.

Door, door, where’s a door?!

Just when I think I’ve escaped my pursuers, I notice them at the far end of a massive room. It takes them only seconds to spot me. I pivot once again, trying to avoid both the man I’d clawed and the guards on my trail.

And that’s when I see the door, haloed in white light, like a beacon calling to me.

Ignoring the pain burning in my feet and the throb between my thighs, I hoist up my tattered skirt and start running again.

But when I burst out onto the street in front of the club, I feel a moment of relief.

I’ve made it out of the club.Now, I just need to get to the diner.

My flustered mind grapples to find the name that my dark-eyed protector told me.Wiley’s… Waco’s… What was it?

I close my eyes and picture those full lips moving. That jaw, covered in a rough, three-day beard that burned my face when he kissed me…

“Weston’s Diner.”That’s what he said.“Corner of Las Vegas Boulevard.”

I turn on the spot and search for street signs. When I find none, I grab hold of the first woman who passes me. She jerks away from me, but I keep a tight grip of her anyway.

“I’m sorry,” I stammer, “but please, where’s Las Vegas Boulevard?”

She looks like she’s about to tell me to go to hell. But something in my expression softens her. She jerks her chin forward. “Go straight two blocks and turn right.”

“Thank you,” I mumble. I let her go and she hurries away.

I head in that direction, praying that I’ll find the diner easily. But more importantly, I pray that my protector will be there waiting for me.

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