She tentatively takes the pictures from my hands. A tear falls down her face when she stares longingly at each one.

“Thank you,” she says, holding the pictures to her chest.

I’m about to leave when Zara calls out, “I’m so sorry, Monika.”

I nod. And look at her for a long time. “Me too.”

Back in the main area of the club, I spot Ashtyn and Bree, who are on the dance floor with a bunch of people from Fremont. They wave me over, but as I’m heading toward them a guy wearing a gray hoodie bumps into me on his way through the sea of people.

His face is partially concealed by the hood, but when I glance at him his head slowly raises, revealing dark, blazing eyes.

I gasp.

I’m not too drunk to know those black eyes can only belong to one person.

Victor Salazar.

Chapter Forty-three

VICTOR

All I want to do is leave this club, but I’m not leaving without my sister. Club Mystique. Hell, I’ve gone here a bunch of times with my friends over the years—the club where teens can party with the over-21 crowd.

This gringo with the words WEED-WHACKER on his shirt comes up to me. “You got anythin’ to smoke, man?”

Smoke?

“No. I’m lookin’ for someone,” I tell him.

“Aren’t we all,” WEED-WHACKER replies.

Someone taps on my shoulder and yells something I can’t hear over the music.

I turn around, annoyed. “What the fuck do you wa—”

My tongue forgets to work, because standing in front of me is a goddess come to life. Monika Fox couldn’t blend into this crowd even if she wanted to. The girl’s curly hair is long and beautiful, her red dress is sexy as hell, and she’s got this aura about her that makes everyone in the room stare.

Including me.

Her eyes are glassy though, and she looks like she’s about to stumble. I reach out to steady her, but she swats my hand away. “Don’t touch me!” Her words are slurred.

“You’re drunk.”

“I’m buzzed,” she says, slowly. “There’s a difference.”

“Okay, whatever you say.” I glance behind her and see my sister in the corner of the club. Bonk has his arms around her like she’s his, and my veins fire up.

“Do you have somewhere to go?”

I don’t answer.

“Don’t ignore me, Vic.”

“I’m not ignoring you.”

She grabs my shoulder and urges me to lean down so I can hear her.

“I’m not leaving, and I’m not letting you leave me,” she practically screams over the music. “You can’t hide forever.”

I abandon my mission to rescue Dani and take Monika by the hand.

She pulls her hand back. “Where are you taking me?”

“Outside.”

“Maybe I don’t want to go outside.” She cranes her neck to see the dance floor. “I came here with Bree and Ashtyn. My friends.”

“And you’re leavin’ with me.” Taking Monika by the hand again, I lead her outside. She stumbles a few times, tripping over her own feet.

“How much did you drink?” I ask her.

“Don’t know,” she says, holding her free hand up as if she’s under arrest. “Enough to feel really, really, really good and really, really pissed.”

Oh, hell.

“I don’t even know why I care that you’re here or why it bothers me that you hate me.”

“I don’t hate you,” I tell her in a low voice as we weave through the crowd.

Monika looks up at me with a mixture of anger and defiance. “I kissed you and you could care less. In fact, you said it was a mistake.”

She leans back and looks right into my eyes. Oh, man, I’m in trouble. Especially when she stumbles backward and I have to reach out to catch her.

Monika glances at a bunch of people walking around us, then looks up at me with those eyes that seem to sparkle on their own. “You’re fucking up your life. Trey would beat the shit out of you if he knew what you turned into.” She squints, gauging my reaction. “It doesn’t matter if you hate me or not, Vic. I hate you.”

“Yeah, well, it’s a good thing you hate me.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re still my best friend’s girlfriend,” I tell her simply. “That’s why.”

“Hey!” I hear someone call out. “Is that Vic Salazar? Yo, I saw your sister with Matthew Bonk. They were sucking face by the bar.”