The Art of Kissing by Jessica Sorensen

Raven

For a moment,I just stand there, watching the video in shock. Then I realize that I’m watching a video of my aunt getting groped and slobbered on by some rando and yank my eyes off the screen.

“Dude, I think I just went blind,” I mumble, rubbing my eyes with the heels of my hands.

“So, I’m taking that as a that’s-for-sure-not-your-uncle, then,” Jax states, pocketing his phone.

I bob my head up and down and lower my hands. “Yeah, that’s definitely not him. My uncle’s hair is black, and that guy on the video looks way younger.”

Weirdly, Jaxon smiles. “This is perfect.”

I gape at him. “That my aunt’s having an affair? I mean, I don’t really care, but I don’t know why it’s perfect.”

Jax looks over my shoulder. About a second later, I feel an arm drape around my shoulders as Hunter steps up beside me with a similar smile as Jax’s on his face.

“It’s perfect because it gives us blackmail material to get your pretty little ass permanently out of that house.” He looks delighted by this. Even Jax does.

“So, you want to use this video to force my aunt to let me move out?” I question, and they nod. I sigh. “As lovely as that sounds, I don’t think it’ll be that easy since my uncle makes most of the decisions, and he’s already said I have to live with them until I’m eighteen.”

“That doesn’t matter,” Hunter insists. “You give someone a good enough reason to make something happen and they will. We’re gonna use this video to make your aunt convince him. We just need to make sure she feels backed into a corner.”

“I guess it could work.” Although, I have this feeling that it won’t be that easy. “You guys do seem like the kind of guys who could easily make someone feel backed into a corner.”

A smirk spreads across Hunter’s face. Even Jax looks a bit cocky in that moment.

“Oh, we definitely are, baby.” Hunter keeps on grinning while Jax chuckles. “You’ll see that at school tomorrow—just how scary we are and how much people fear us.” He pulls me closer to him then turns us toward the front door. “They’re going to fear you, too. Just you wait. Shit like what happened on the bridge won’t happen again.” He pulls open the front door.

“We just need to figure out who did it to her,” Jax adds as we step outside. Then he turns to lock up the door.

“What are you guys going to do to them when you figure out who it is?” I wonder, looking up into the night-kissed sky.

The neighborhood is quiet and lit up by lampposts and porch lights, and the air smells of a chilly night full of possibilities.

Hunter laughs darkly. “Break them apart.”

I glance at him, and he flashes me an innocent smile.

“What?”

I eye him over. “You’re going to beat them up?”

“Nope. That’d be way too easy.” He tugs me with him as he starts down the front porch steps.

Jax moves up to the side of me and stuffs the house keys into his pocket. Then he takes my hand. Hunter still has his arm draped around me, so it’s a little weird, but I’m not about to pull away from either of them. Truthfully, I feel safe. Like, safer than I have felt in a long time.

“We’re going to break their lives apart,” Jax states, his fingers briefly stiffening in mine. “We’re also going to do everything in our power to make this game stop before it can even get started.”

I look at him. “How are you going to do that?”

He lifts a shoulder as we hike down the path toward the driveway. “I’m not sure. We need to see who we’re working against first, and then go from there.”

I scrunch up my nose. “I don’t want you guys getting hurt.”

Jax gives my hand a squeeze. “We’ll be okay.”

“You promise?” I ask worriedly.

His lips tug into a half-smile, and then he hitches his pinkie with mine. “I pinkie promise.”

The words spill comfort through my veins, and I relax a smidgeon by the time we reach Hunter’s car. He removes his arm from around my shoulders, opens the passenger door, and holds it open for me like a gentleman.

I smile at him then reach to flip the seat forward so I can climb in the back. However, Hunter captures me by the arm, stopping me.

“Sit in front with us,” he suggests when I glance at him. “There’s a seat belt in the middle seat.”

I eye the bench seat. It looks roomy enough, I guess. It does seem a bit weird, though, to be riding in the middle, crammed between them when there’s plenty of room in the back seat. Still, I climb in, and Jax slides in beside me, slipping an arm along the back of the seat right behind my head. He offers me a smile as he buckles the seat belt with his free hand. I do mine up, too, while Hunter climbs in and shuts the door. He fastens his seat belt then starts up the car, the engine roaring to life.

“I know I’ve said this before,” I say to Hunter as I get situated, “but your car is so pretty.”

With his hands resting on top of the steering wheel, he flicks a smile in my direction. “You’re so pretty.”

“And you’re so cheesy,” I quip.

“I’m going to second that,” Jax says, shaking his head.

“For sure,” Hunter agrees. “But my cheesiness makes you blush.” He quickly sweeps his fingers along my cheek before resting one hand on the steering wheel and the other on the shifter, which is right beside my leg. Then he shifts into reverse and backs down the driveway and onto the road.

Hardly anyone is out, yet it’s barely even eight o’clock. Then again, it’s a school night, which doesn’t matter to Jax or Hunter, apparently. And I guess Zay, too, since he’s not home either.

“I have to admit,” I find myself saying, “that I’ve never actually done anything like this before.”

Hunter tilts his head toward me as he flips on the brights. “Done anything like what?”

I lift a shoulder. “Going out and getting drunk on a school night. It’s not like I don’t because I hate being bad. I’ve just never had the opportunity.” I pick at my chipped nail polish, feeling kind of silly for saying that aloud, but also feeling like it needed to be said. “So, thanks for doing this is what I’m trying to say.”

The guys are quiet for a beat, and I worry I look like some sort of sappy dumbass. Then Jax brushes his fingers through my hair, drawing my attention to him.

“You don’t need to thank us, sweetheart,” he says. “We want to be here with you, okay?”

I press my lips together, my heart thundering in my chest. Whenever Hunter calls me baby, I give him shit for it. It kind of seems like our thing. He teases me with the word, and I throw it right back in his face. But when Jax calls me sweetheart, it doesn’t seem playful. No, it feels meaningful and makes my heart flutter inside my chest, like some stupid little dumbass. Perhaps it’s because he kissed me? I’ve never been kissed before that, so who the heck knows?

“Well, thanks for wanting me here.” I smile at him, and it feels real and weird, but nice.

He returns my smile then cracks the window, letting the cool night breeze gust in. And that’s how we spend most of the drive—cruising with the windows cracked, music playing from the stereo. Jax keeps his arm around me, while Hunter drives with one hand resting on the shifter. It might be the safest I’ve ever felt in my life. If only it could’ve lasted. Because as we reach Crossing, I grow uneasy.

The building that’s allegedly a rundown bar is literally in the middle of nowhere. Neon and fluorescent lights offer a bit of light, but not much. And since no lamppost are nearby, and fields and the railroad tracks surround the bar, the area is blanketed by darkness.

People are loitering outside, and a few trucks, cars, and motorcycles are parked in the gravel parking lot. Most of the people outside look rough. Then again, I know I look rough, too, so I try not to judge. Plus, my father always came off as rough around the edges. And he was—getting into an occasional bar fight. He even taught me how to fight, something I’m feeling good about at the moment.

“Do you see his truck anywhere?” Hunter asks Jax as he turns into the parking lot and parks a ways away from the entrance. The headlights light up the parking lot a bit, revealing that we’re being watched by a group of people outside, smoking.

I must tense because Jax leans over and whispers in my ear, “Relax. We’re not going to let anything happen to you.”

While I appreciate his offer, I feel the need to stress, “I know, but I can also take care of myself. I know I messed up with the whole bridge thing, but only because I was caught off guard and outnumbered.”

“And that’s okay. I just want you to know that we have your back, okay?” His breath dusts across my ear as he speaks, and I involuntarily shiver, my shoulder lifting.

I cross my fingers that he didn’t notice, because holy hell, embarrassing.

Then he does something that completely distracts me.

He brushes his lips across my earlobe.

My eyes slightly widen, and my heart pounds in my chest, as I discreetly glance at him, seeing he has his gaze fixed on the bar. I peer out of the corner of my eye at Hunter to see if he saw what just happened. He’s staring at the bar, too.

“God, I forgot how sketchy this place can get,” he mumbles, drumming his fingers on top of the shifter. The glow of the neon lights in the grimy windows of the bar highlight the crease between his brow.

“It looks like this trashy bar my dad used to go to,” I note aloud. “I remember my mom having to load me up in the car a lot so we could go pick him up when he got too wasted.”

“Stay in the car, okay, Raven,” my mom would say to me. “Your father doesn’t want you seeing him like this.”

I’d nod, and then I’d end up being left in the car for quite a while, sometimes hours. To this day, I have no clue why or what my mom was doing in there for so long. Perhaps drinking, too. Although, she never seemed super wasted when she came out.

“Your dad was an alcoholic, then?” Hunter asks cautiously.

I shrug. “I don’t know. I never saw him like that, but I also wasn’t old enough to really understand what was going on.”

Freak.

Loser.

Murderer.

I can feel the wound on my side throbbing as I think about the past. About my parents and the blood that was on my hands that night.

Hunter bobs his head up and down as he studies me. “That sucks that you had to deal with that.”

“Yeah … Although, I can barely remember sometimes.” I grow quiet as I think about the random memories that have been coming to me lately, ones that may include the guys. I’m not even sure if they’re memories or if I’m just crazy.

The guys remain quiet for a moment as they glance around the parking lot, I assume looking for Benton’s truck.

Jax assesses the building with a frown on his face. “Should we go in, or do you just want to text him?”

“Let me see where he’s at.” Hunter digs his phone out of his pocket then sends a text.

“There’s his truck.” Jax points at a red, lifted trunk that looks brand new and stands out big time in the parking lot filled with beat-up vehicles.

“He says to come in through the back.” Hunter wavers. “Which more than likely means he’s playing a game and is up.”

“He’s gambling?” I ask as Hunter stuffs his phone back into his pocket.

“Yeah, he does that sometimes.” Hunter blows out a weary sigh. “He’s actually gotten into a lot of trouble with it … We think that’s why he’s still working for Zay’s father. But that’s just speculation.”

They grow quiet as a large dude with no shirt on staggers in front of the car, chugging from a bottle of whiskey.

Jax frowns at the man. “Maybe I should stay out here with Raven.”

“You know it’s just as bad out here as it is in there,” Hunter reminds him as he unfastens his seat belt. “We might as well all go in.” He flashes us a grin. “Besides, tonight is all about adventure, remember?”

“I guess so.” Jax looks about as unenthusiastic as one can get.

“Don’t worry, Jaxon,” I tease in an attempt to lighten the mood. “I’ve been in sketchy bars before. I can protect you if shit goes bad.”

“You’re such a little smartass,” he mutters with a ghost of a smile on his pretty lips.

That has me smiling, too. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Good. I meant it as one.” He removes his arm from behind me and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, his demeanor seeming more upbeat.

My lips threaten to turn upward into a huge-ass smile, but that fades when I note Hunter is observing us with a pucker at his brow. When he notices me noticing him, he quickly plasters on a grin.

“Ready to have some fun, baby?”

I roll my eyes and pretend to vomit, but that just makes him laugh. Then he hops out of the car and bumps the door closed.

I turn toward Jax, waiting for him to get out so I can, but he doesn’t budge; just stares at me.

“What’s wrong?” I ask worriedly.

He hesitates. “It’s nothing.” Anxiety is radiating off of him, but I’m starting to catch on to the fact that this is just who Jax is. He’s a worrier, and that’s not a bad thing. It’s just something I notice. Probably because I worry a lot, too. I just usually get stoned whenever I feel that way, but the river ruined my stash. Not that I don’t think these guys can get me some, if I ask. But we’re getting drunk tonight, so that’ll do, I guess.

“What can I do to make you feel less nervous?” I ask, trying to make him feel better.

He considers what I said, wavering his head from side to side. “Can you just let me stay by you while we’re in here?”

I nod. “Sure. I was already planning on it, anyway.”

He relaxes a smidgeon then reaches for the door handle and pushes the door open. He climbs out, and I follow, stepping onto the gravel parking lot. Then Jax locks the door before shutting it while I wander over to where Hunter is standing in front of the car.

“It’s colder out here than it is at you guys’ house,” I remark as I wrap my arms around myself.

“It’s because it’s closer to the mountains,” Hunter explains, checking his phone. “You’re feeling okay, right?”

“Um … yeah?” I ask, unsure why he’s asking me that. “It’s just a little cold.”

He smiles at me as he pockets his phone. “That’s not what I meant.” The gravel crunches underneath his boots as he steps toward me. “I just want to make sure you’re okay after the bridge incident. We weren’t sure if we should take you to a doctor or not. If you feel weird at all, you should let us know.”

“I’m fine,” I promise as Jax steps up beside me. “I’ve just never done well with being cold. I never really lived in cold places for too long. Although, you’d think, after feeling the coldness of that water today, this would feel like a cakewalk. Apparently, not the case—I still have zero tolerance for freezing my ass off.”

“Then let’s get you inside,” Hunter tells me, snagging a hold of my hand and pulling me toward the entrance with him.

Jax lollygags behind us with his gaze on the ground as we walk. “We should make this quick … Being here …” He sweeps his gaze over the mostly vacant parking lot. “I don’t like it.” The few people who are out here are watching us, so I kind of see what he’s saying that.

Hunter quietly sighs. “I know, man. We’ll hurry.” He pulls open the door with his free hand then steps inside, pulling me with him.

I’m immediately overcome by the sound of chatter, the smell of booze and cigarette smoke, and the heat of what I’m guessing is being caused by all the sweaty bodies crammed in here.

“Dude, there are so many people here.” I have to speak loudly over the chatter. “And the air feels sweaty.”

Hunter tosses me a smile from over his shoulder. “You wanted to feel warmer, right?”

I crinkle my nose. “Not from sweaty people.”

He chuckles, shaking his head, and mutters something under his breath that sounds like, “So adorable.”

Before I can remark, he’s towing me through the rough-looking people as we make our way farther into the bar. Jax moves up behind me and places his hands on my hips, offering me a bit more comfort. Well, his touch probably would if his fingers weren’t so close to my scars. But I know he’s only trying to help keep me a bit more protected from all the people, so I suck it up and keep moving forward, attempting to ignore all the gawking in our direction.

At first, I wonder what in the hell these people are looking at. Then it dawns on me that none of us are twenty-one and we’re just wandering around in a bar.

I turn my head toward Jax and whisper, “Are we even supposed to be in this place? We’re not old enough.”

“We’re fine,” he assures. “This is the sort of place we could probably order a drink and be okay. Although, then we’d have to stick around, and I’d rather not.”

It seems a bit weird that he’s so freaked out about being here. I mean, yeah, the crowd looks rough, but Jax and Hunter look like they could hold their own in a fight. Then Jax says something that makes me understand why he’s kind of uneasy.

“There are people here who work for my father. And I hate being around those types of people.”

“Oh.” I flick a glance around before returning my gaze to him. “So, is that why they’re staring? Because they know who you are?”

“Yeah. And Hunter.” He gives a short pause. “I’m sure they’re wondering who you are, too.” He frowns at a large dude with a shaved head and a snake tattoo going up the side of his face. “I really don’t think it’s a good idea that we brought you in here.” His grip on my hips tightens. “I don’t like how some of them are looking at you.”

“I’ll be fine,” I assure him. “Remember, I said I can throw a mean punch if I need to.”

“I know, but”—he sweeps his gaze over the area—“I feel like this is announcing that you’re part of our group. And, while I know everyone in this town was going to find out eventually, it might not have been a good idea to do it in this bar of all places.”

He holds onto me tighter as we continue to squeeze our way through the crowd, past the bar area, and toward a door located at the back near the bathrooms with a sign on it that reads: Keep Out.

When we reach it, Hunter wraps his fingers around the doorknob. I’ll admit I’m a bit tense as he pulls the door open. Part me half-expects a beefy dude to jump out and throw us out for entering. And a beefy dude, who I’m assuming is the bouncer, is standing right there, but he just gives us a nod.

Okay, then … What’s the point of having a bouncer if he’s not going to throw out a bunch of teenagers?

Once we pass him, we step into a much less crowded room with some tables surrounded by chairs. And in those chairs are people playing poker. A second later, it clicks that I’ve just walked into an illegal gambling den.

The room is quiet except for light chatter and clinking chips. The air is laced with smoke, and a few waiters and waitresses are wandering around, handing out drinks to the players who are a mixture of men and women, some looking more casual while others are dressed in suits or dresses.

I’d probably feel out of place except I’ve been in a place like this before. It’s something that I’m just remembering as a memory presses against my mind.

“Where are we, Daddy?” I ask as I peer around at the people sitting around a table covered in stacks of funny-looking coins.

My dad is looking around, as if searching for something. “This is where I work, Ravenlee. But, technically, you’re not supposed to be with me, so I need you to keep as quiet as possible.”

“Do you see him?” Jaxon asks, tearing me from the memory. He’s looking around, and so is Hunter. I glimpse around, too, but not for Zay’s brother since I have no idea what he looks like … or do I?

My gaze falls on a guy with eyes a similar shade as Zay’s. He resembles him so much, with startling similar facial features. His hair is a bit longer on the top, but shaved short on the sides. He has a set of cards in his hand and is looking down at his chips as he plays with them. Then he suddenly drifts his gaze up and finds the three of us, as if he sensed we’re standing there. Well, he kind of finds me since his gaze seems so center on me. A crinkle forms at his brows as he studies me with puzzled curiosity.

“Is that him?” I ask, glancing at Jax and Hunter.

They look at me then track my gaze.

“Yeah, it is.” Jax gives me a funny look. “How did you know?”

“Because he looks almost exactly like Zay,” I say with a shrug.

He looks almost disappointed, which makes no sense. But, to be real, a lot of what the guys do makes no sense to me. Part of me wonders if that’s because they’re keeping secrets from me. Why would they do that, though? And even if they are, I’m keeping secrets from them, too, so I can’t really be upset with them.

Benton holds up a finger in our direction then returns his attention to the game. He plays a hand and wins but doesn’t make a big deal about it. He simply collects the chips, pockets them in his jacket, then gets up and heads toward us.

Jax still has a hold of my hand, and I feel his fingers twitch in mine, as if he’s worried about something.

“Hey,” Benton greets Hunter as he reaches us. “Sorry, I lost track of time. I was on a winning streak and totally spaced off.”

“Aren’t you always on a winning streak?” Hunter asks amusedly, making me wonder if he cheats or something.

Benton cracks a smile. “What can I say? I’m super lucky.” His attention strays to Jax. Well, to mine and Jax’s interlocked fingers then flicks up to me. He then shifts his gaze to Jax and cocks a brow. “So, who’s the chick? You dating her or something? Because that seems really fucking weird.”

My lips twitch. “This chick can speak for herself. And my name is Ravenlee, not chick.”

Jax presses back a smile, while Hunter chuckles and mutters, “So damn feisty.”

Benton’s attention drifts back to me, amusement dancing in his eyes. “So, Ravenlee, I guess I’ll direct my question to you then, since you seem to be the boss here.” He crosses his arms. “Are you dating Jax?”

Um … Crap, I hadn’t thought about the fact that I’d have to answer him when I went off running my mouth. And, while I know the answer to his question, I feel shifty, as if more than him is waiting for the answer.

“No, we’re just friends,” I reply with a hint of uneasiness in my tone.

And, once again, Jax’s hand stiffens in mine.

Was that not the answer he wanted me to say?

Does he think we’re dating?

We kissed, so maybe that does?

Face palm.

What the hell is wrong with me? Since when did I become such a worrier about guys?

“Hmm … interesting,” Benton says, rubbing his scruffy jawline.

I get the feeling that he gets off on the discomfort he’s creating.

“Can we go outside and get this exchange done so we can get home?” Jax asks Benton with a hint of annoyance in his tone

Benton lifts a shoulder. “Sure. I want to get back to the game, anyway.”

He pushes past us and out the “Do Not Enter” door. Jax turns to follow him, pulling me with him, and Hunter trails right behind us. No one says anything as we make our way back across the crowded bar, but it’s probably too noisy, anyway. What does happen, though, is Hunter places his hands on my waist and moves closer to me. My heartrate quickens like a fluttering hummingbird because, holy hell, I’m holding two guys’ hands. Then again, these guys shared their body heat with me at the same time, so maybe it shouldn’t be so weird.

Maybe I’m just weird for thinking it’s weird.

“Baby, I have a question,” Hunter whispers in my ear, his lips brushing across the flesh.

I nod, feeling a bit dazed as the weirdest shiver rolls through me. It’s the same sort of shiver that tickled across my skin when Jax kissed me.

“That guy over in the corner; do you know who he is?” he asks softly.

That wasn’t what I expected him to say, so it takes me a beat to process it. Then I scan the many people crammed in the space around us. “Which corner?”

“The right corner, back in the booth,” he says as he slides his fingers farther around my waist, making my shirt ride up a bit, so that his palms come into contact with my flesh. Not the scarred part of my flesh, either, but the speck of flesh right above the waistband of my shorts. No one has ever touched me there before, so I didn’t know until now how sensitive that area is, and yeah, I end up shivering.

Hunter notices, quickly moving his hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to touch you like that without your permission.”

“You’re fine,” I assure him, letting out a shaky breath. “The area is just … sensitive and kind of took me off guard.”

His breath falters against my ear. “Do you …? Do you want me to put my hand back?”

The sound of my heart suddenly becomes louder than the chatter and music filling up the room.

Do I? I’m not sure … or maybe I’m just too embarrassed to say the words aloud. Whatever the reason, I find myself nodding.

“Yeah, I do,” I whisper so softly that I’m not sure if he heard me.

He must have, because he returns his hand to the spot causing flutters breathing to life in my tummy as the palm of his hand brushes across my flesh.

“So, the guy in the corner?” he whispers in my ear, his voice suddenly sounding a bit more upbeat. “Do you know him?”

I look in the far back corner, at a man sitting in a booth, staring at me. He has a hoodie pulled over his head, but the lighting is bright enough that I can make out some of his features—a straight nose, full lips, a scruffy jawline, and a scar running down his left eye. He looks around our age, maybe a few years older, and he makes no effort to look away from me when our gazes collide.

“I’m … I’m not sure,” I say, holding the guy’s gaze to try to show that I’m not intimidated by him. “He seems sort of familiar, but I’m not sure why.”

Hunter sinks into silence as he continues to guide me toward a spot where the crowd grows thicker. I seriously can almost taste the sweat in the air.

Barf.

“I don’t like how he’s looking at you,” he mutters, his grip on my waist tightening.

I’m not sure if I like the way he’s looking at me, either, but I can’t seem to take my eyes off the man. I carry his gaze all the way until we near the exit. Then our connection breaks as a fight breaks out and I’m suddenly shoved to the side. Hunter loses his grip on my waist, and Jax’s hand slips from mine as the throng of drunken people swallows me up. I don’t panic as I shove people back. I’m holding my own pretty well, too, until I feel someone move up close behind me. For a second, I think it’s one of the guys, but then a hand clamps down across my mouth as an arm wraps around my waist. Then they start dragging me backward, away from the fight.

Panic whips through me as déjà vu sets in. I start to lift my hand to reach up and punch them in the face while opening my mouth to bite down when they promptly let me go.

They have managed to drag me into the hallway where the bathrooms are located, along with a side exit. Only a few people are lingering around, and they all look plastered.

I whirl around with my fists raised, preparing to fight whoever dragged me here. When I see the guy who was staring at me earlier, I’ll admit I’m not that surprised. I am, however, freaked the hell out.

He quickly puts his hand to the side. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

I continue to make a fist. “If that’s true, then why did you drag me back here?”

He sweeps his gaze across me, as if searching for something, before he locks his gaze on me. “You really don’t remember, do you?”

His particular choice of words sends a chill down my spine, but I play it cool. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I’m out of here.” With that, I turn to leave.

“I know who you are,” he calls out after me.

I freeze, tension rolling through my body as I glance back at him.

“That’s not a threat,” he quickly adds, stepping toward me, his shoes scuffing against the floor. “I want to help you get some answers, Raven. But I need you to trust me.”

“I don’t even know you,” I point out, but part of me questions if I do.

He presses back a smile. “You sure about that?”

“Yeah?” My doubt shows this time, ringing in my tone.

He peers around, nervousness suddenly flickering across his features.

What in the crap is he nervous about all of a sudden? No one’s around except for a couple of really old drunk dudes.

He steps closer to me. “Has someone been in contact with you about your past?”

Wait … How did he know?

Unless he’s the one doing it?

I don’t answer, smashing my lips together.

“Your hesitancy is understandable,” he says. “And, while I want to help you get some answers, I can’t right now. However, if you want to find out more, then you can go here. Just don’t tell your guys.” He reaches out toward me.

I step back so quickly I end up bumping into a wall. Well, I think it’s a wall until a deep voice says from behind me, “Watch it.”

I turn around and find a ginormous man with an irritated expression looking at me.

“Sorry,” I mutter to the guy then turn back around, only to find the guy in the hoodie gone.

I peer around, trying to figure out where he went. The bathrooms? No, probably the exit door that’s at the end of the hallway.

Deciding he’s probably just someone messing with me, or perhaps he’s connected to the bridge incident, I decide to just leave. But, as I’m turning around, I spot a card on the dirty floor and bend down to pick it up.

On it is a phone number, and address in a town called Sunnyvale, and the name of a club?

“The Forgotten Club?” I mumble. What the hell is this?

Better yet, why do I feel so compelled to keep it?

Whatever the reason, I pocket the card then leave the hallway with more questions than I had before.