Before I could take a step after sliding off the stool, a hand closed around my wrist. I looked up into Artur’s face. “I was about to dance,” I murmured, swaying against the pull of his grip.
He didn’t answer. His fingers tightened, and he guided me through the crush of bodies, straight toward the door.
The music faded behind us as Artur and I exited. His firm grip anchored my unsteady body as he dragged me toward the parking lot. The cold air scraped against my heated skin, the ghost of alcohol still burning in my bloodstream.
A nauseating swirl churned in my stomach, forcing my breath into shallow gasps. A gag wrenched its way up my throat. I slapped a hand over my mouth to hold back the wave of sickness threatening to erupt. I hated this feeling.
“I told you to sit and wait,” Artur growled as he stopped near his parked motorbike.
“You took so long,” I muttered.
He cocked his head. “And?”
I huffed, rolling my shoulders. “I was bored.”
A burp escaped before I could stop it, and I darted toward the fence, bent over as I gagged. The drinks were determined to make their way out, but my body refused to cooperate.
“Let’s go,” Artur commanded in fury.
“At least I waited. I could’ve run off, you know?” My words slurred as I stumbled after him. My head felt like it was floating, and my feet barely touched the ground. Was I flying?
He shoved a helmet into my hands, and I remembered why we came here. “Wait,” I glanced back toward the club. “Did Salva admit it?”
Artur climbed onto the bike, slipping on his dark glasses without answering.
“He didn’t?” I asked. In his silence, my temper flared. Or maybe it was the alcohol fueling me. “That bastard. You could’ve let me go with you. At least he would’ve confessed if I were there.”
Artur tilted his head in my direction. “Who said he had the luxury to confess? Climb on, or you’ll walk.”
“Then why did we come here?” I grumbled, placing my hands on his solid shoulders as I climbed onto the bike. “Salva deserves to pay.”
“I killed him. And you know who else deserves to die? You. Now shut up before I decide to kill you next.”
His words sent a shiver down my spine, but all I could do was laugh. “Yeah, sure,” I said, leaning against his back as the bike roared to life. “There.”
He didn’t respond; he revved the engine and sped away from the club. The wind whipped past us, numbing my skin. My arms wrapped tightly around his waist, more for balance than warmth. The motion of the bike made my head heavier, lulling me closer to sleep.
“I’ll make you believe me,” I murmured, half to myself. The distant sirens’ wail seeped into the air, but I ignored it. The bike’s rhythm and the warmth radiating from Artur’s back pulled me closer to unconsciousness.
We came to a sudden halt, and I jerked awake. Artur shook me, signaling me to let go. My gaze shifted to the house in front of us, its windows glowing faintly in the dark. The dense forest surrounding it loomed like silent sentinels. He didn’t take us back to the mansion, and I knew this was where I would die.
Artur switched off the engine and climbed off, his boots crunching against the gravel.
“What is this place?” I asked. The alcohol wasn’t doing me any good.
“Get off,” he said while striding toward the house without looking back.
“You’re going to kill me here, aren’t you?”
Fear clawed at my chest, but I forced myself to follow him. My eyes darted around the clearing, paranoia creeping in. Every rustle in the trees felt like a pair of eyes watching me, waiting to strike.
I stepped inside, slamming the door shut behind me and twisting the lock. The interior was dimly lit, the warm glow of a few lamps casting long shadows across the room.
An earthy scent of wood filled the air. The rich brown walls blended well with the dark wooden floor. The furniture was rustic yet elegant, as though each piece was hand-carved with care. It was beautiful.
Artur sat at a small minibar in the corner, nursing a glass of whiskey. His elbows rested on the counter while he swirled the liquid in his glass.
Something felt off as I ambled toward him. My head weighed me down, and I could hardly turn it. I promised myself not to drink too much because the aftermath was never pleasant.