strongly of industrial bleach mixed with stale cigarette smoke. She wrinkled her nose, dropping her bag near the foot of the lumpy mattress. The r

, cupped her hands, and splashed her face repeatedly until her skin felt numb. She grabbed a scratchy towel and patted h

ight, she needed to forget. She needed to burn

ess with razor-thin straps that dipped dangerously low in the back. She stripped off her conservative clothes and pulled the dress over her head. The silk clung

nt of an unmarked black door in a graffiti-covered alley. This was "The Abyss," a

pen the heavy door and was instantly hit by a physical wall of sound. The heavy bass of the EDM music vibrated in

ing bodies on the dance floor, fight

double," she shouted over

ass toward her. Chandler picked it up and threw the burning liquid down her throat. The

rs for another round. As she waited, her eyes

lently seized

uddenly remembered Avery once mentioning "The Abyss" as a gray-area meeting ground for his shadier corporate dealings. Coming here had b

she could see the shock morph into explosive anger on his face. He sla

shaking. She reached for her second shot, d

nd clamped down on her wrist. The grip was brutal, t

her arm, forcing her to spin around and face him. He looked at her tight dress, his eyes blazing with furious

er bruised wrist, glaring at him with pure hatred. "I am single, Avery! I can

ff the bar and hurled it at the floor. The glass shattered, the sound lost in the mus

m her face. "Do not test my patience, Cha

ear. "Go back to the Upper East Side, Avery.

. "You are going to regret this," he spat. He turned on his heel and s

resting her elbows on the sticky bar counter. She buried her face in her hands, her shoulders s

wn the counter, leaning in close to her. "Rough night, sweetheart?

er head down, mumbling into her hands. "Ex-husband. I just... I just need a man who lis

scene, a rich, well-dressed woman asking for a man who "does what h

honey. The club can arrange a VIP special host for you.

s properly. She waved her hand dismissively, her head spinning. "Whatever. As long as it ma

e reached into his apron pocket and pulled out a tiny plastic vial filled with clear powder

bright pink, sweet-smelling cocktail, and poured it

Chandler. "On the house, beautiful. Drink up

"Thanks," she muttered. She took a sip, her finger mindlessly tracing the rim of

om his belt. He turned his back, lifting the rad

e dark grey suit, a crisp white shirt, and gold-rimmed glasses. Brennan George pushed his glasses up the bridge of hi

ed by the thin dress. A muscle feathered in his jaw. His eyes darkened. He stepp

button on his radio. "Dispatch, I ne

spinning him around violently. The radio slipp

y Osborn. Avery had come back. He grabbed Mickey by th

ou just put in her d