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I could see Nash and Cyrus making the same calculations as I was.

Could we take them?

Each guard wore a black suit that strained around their practiced muscles, easily weighing more than a fucking wrestler. And the tight space would make a real fight even more challenging, especially outnumbered.

The hulking woman at the center spoke in a low, commanding voice. “The Madame would like to speak with you.”

51

TESS

We were caught.

Trapped between four, hulking guards and our exit, we had nowhere to run.

My Freaks made a wall in front of me, and I watched as they exchanged coded glances. Each of them was wondering if they could pull it off, if they could take these guards down with just the rings on their fingers and brute force.

It would end in blood. And I doubted we could escape without getting at least one of us killed.

I can’t risk them getting hurt. I need them.

Stepping forward, I nodded to the guards. “Lead the way.”

I felt Cyrus’ rage burning into the back of my head as I followed the guards as the woman at their center turned around and walked away.

Shrugging at her, I licked my teeth and walked behind the guard. Two of them stayed in the threshold, ready to grab us in case we made a run for it.

But it would have been impossible to get out of here in a hurry. The throbbing crowd of the dance floor would have converged on us, refusing to let us out.

Instead, I followed the guard to the end of the hallway, walking straight through the massive orgy happening at the end of the tunnel.

Behind me, I heard Blade’s sinister cackle as she walked past the guards. “Don’t worry, we know how to play nice!”

The lead guard pressed the handle on the painted, black door and stepped inside.

Bright light flooded my eyes as I stepped into the service corridor. All concrete and white, fluorescent lights, it was a stark tone shift from the vibes inside The Station.

The hallway was long, doorways on either side.

Whoever had designed this place had done such a good job making The Station feel like its own world buried underneath the forest above, that I’d forgotten areas like this must exist.

If someone were to violate the rules, security would need access points.

As we moved down the hallway, Cyrus strode past me, putting herself between me and the lead guard. Nash and Blade stayed behind me, making sure that no one could lay a hand on me. But given The Station’s entire existence, I doubted any of them would try anything.

From what I could see, the whole place was filled with mobsters and underworld powerhouses. None of them should be fucked with.

Us included.

The other three guards positioned themselves around us as we made our way down the service corridor.

The sound of my high heels echoed off the walls as they clicked against the concrete as we reached the end of the hall and up a staircase. One floor up, the lead guard stopped in front of a gray door, the same color as the walls of the service areas.

She knocked firmly and waited for a reply from inside.

Cyrus’s jaw flexed as she exercised every ounce of patience she could muster. Behind me, I heard Blade’s dress shoes tapping against the clean cement floors. And then there was Nash, stoic as ever as she stared forward.

After a moment, the lead guard threw open the door and stepped to the side. She gestured for me to enter.