Everly

Questions run through my mind when I pull up to the club. I search around, thinking I’m in the twilight zone for a second. To my astonishment, it’s closed.

Well, no, actually, it’s not closed, but it sure as damn well seems like it.

There’s no one in line, the streets aren’t covered in cars, and the blaring music—normally pleasing to my dancing senses—is silent.

A man wearing a Splitfire polo shirt stands guard at the front door. When I approach, he asks with no emotion, “Everly Stanley?”

I nod my head. “That’s me. Do you have another clue?”

“Nope,” he states, not offering any hints as to what’s going on and turns to open the door.

“Well, aren’t you a bag full of help,” I quip, hitting his chest softly.

Thankfully, his harsh exterior breaks slightly, and I get a small smile to cross his lips before he pulls it back to his tough-guy stance.

The door clicks behind me, and suddenly, I’m entrapped in a completely dark space, even my own hand in front of me is indiscernible. For a second I question what the hell I’m doing here, putting myself at risk like this, but then I remember just how public of a place this actually is.

I reach for my phone when the floor brightens, one spot at a time, like a blaring neon sign telling me where to go. They shine for mere seconds before moving on to the next.

The lights stop and form a circle on what appears to be the dance floor. When I reach the landing zone, they all disappear, and I’m encased in total darkness again.

I’m tempted to reach for my phone again, but the commotion coursing through me makes me think twice. This is the exact rush I need after the week I’ve had.

My heart rate spikes when the speakers blast someone screaming, “Hey-o.” I instantly recognize the song Courtesy Call, () and I can’t fight the smile crossing my lips as I nod my head to the bass taking over my senses.

Flashes whirl all around me, moving faster as the beat heats up but end suddenly after the song states, “This is my last warning,” leaving me in silence and darkness again.

A computer voice radiates through the room. “Welcome. All systems have been activated.” ()

A chill runs up my spine as I look around, for what, I don't know since I can’t see a thing.

The voice continues, “Nothing is what you think. You have to find the truth in everything. At the end, is where we will begin.”

A grueling guitar riff dances through my chest. Hard and dirty. It gets stronger with every cord as red and blue colors flash brightly in time with the music.

Going dark, the voice repeats, “At the end, is where we will begin.”

All the lights on the floor shine at the same time, giving me enough illumination to see the room around me.

The sight of three men, standing tall with their hands behind their backs, wearing white masks, startles me. A trickle of unease sneaks its way back up my spine by the way their smooth masks wrap around their faces gives them the appearance of soulless attitudes. For a quick second, I question what’s really going on.

One man holds his hand out to me, not saying a word but waiting for me to reach for it in return.

I look at the other two, standing like statues on either side of him. When I don’t move, he raises his hand, pointing to something up high.

The same computer voice plays, “Change begins with us.”

His hand reaches for me, again.

“You must choose wisely,” the voice plays over the speakers.

I should run, screaming for help. It's not every day masked men approach you in a darkened club with strobe lights and intense music playing. Yet, there’s something about the way his head is tilted just slightly and his hand is curved that almost seems welcoming.

Timidly, I walk to him and place my hand in his. He quickly pulls me into his hard, muscular chest and says, “Good choice. The night has just begun.”

Before I know what’s happening, I’m whisked away through the back doors of the club where three motorcycles sit, waiting patiently for us to hop on.

When I'm handed a full-face helmet, I pause, momentarily scared to hop on the back. I've never ridden a motorcycle, and now, this mystery man is asking me to ride with him and put all my faith in the hands of a complete stranger.

I chuckle to myself at the thought of my mom handing me over to a prince she doesn’t know for marriage. To me, there's no difference, and if she’ll blindly want to do that, then I guess I have no reason not to, either.

Taking the helmet from him, I slip it over my head, smashing my recently curled hair but not giving a shit. This is my first night of true freedom, and I'm going to enjoy every minute without a care in the world.

He grabs a helmet that’s not a full face like mine; it’s more of what people refer to as a brain bucket. It’s then that I realize he has a black hat on backward, hiding his hair and covering the back of his neck, so I can’t see any skin peeking through.

I straddle the bike as my hands wrap around his waist.

Chills run up my spine when he grabs both of my hands, pulling them in tighter, saying, “Hold on. There's no such thing as maybe here.”

We arrive at an abandoned airfield twenty minutes outside of town. The ride was peaceful. He didn't pull any fast maneuvers or try to scare me, which helped put me at ease. As time passed, my death grip loosened, and a few times he let go of one handlebar intertwining his fingers with mine. It was a sweet gesture, turning our ride into something a bit more romantic. He'd remove it to downshift or turn at a fork in the road, but after a few minutes, his hand returned.

The summer air felt amazing on my skin, and I must admit, a tinge of regret ran through my body when we parked, and he motioned for me to get off.

After removing my helmet, I see utter darkness surrounding us once the bike’s headlights are switched off.

My guy reaches his hand out to mine. “Follow me.”

“What are we doing here? Is this some plot to murder me without witnesses?” I ask jokingly.

“If I was going to murder you, do you think I would have shut down the club and only invited you inside? Don't you think it'd be a dead giveaway who did it?”

My pulse races at the deepness of his voice and I have to focus to remember what I’m doing here. “No clue. Do the club owners even know who you are? For the right amount of cash, I’ve heard anyone will look the other way,” I deadpan, tilting my head to the side.

“Well, don't worry.” He wraps his hands around my waist, bringing me into him. My breath catches when I breathe in his intoxicating scent. “They do know who I am, and no, I'm not going to harm you. I wanted to show you something.”

“Here? This place has been abandoned for years.”

He leans in to whisper in my ear, “Not tonight.”

“Oh really? And you know this how?”

“Because I do,” he says, walking away from me and pulling my hand toward him.

His friends follow, staying silent as we make our way to the end of the broken and dilapidated runway, showing more weeds than asphalt. It's not until we quit moving that I notice one friend carrying something. He stops, opening it wide and laying a sheet down to cover the ground.

“For you,” my guy says. Holding out his hand, he motions for me to sit down.

I look at each of the men, curious about their intentions, but throwing caution to the wind, I take my place on the sheet. His friends sit directly on the ground a little way away from the sheet while he cuddles up next to me.

I watch as he pulls his phone from his back pocket, checking the time. A photo of who I could only imagine is him, skydiving and holding up rock-star fingers to the camera of someone obviously jumping next to him, catches my attention.

The photo makes me laugh to myself. He’s a little wild, and I like it.

“Just a few more minutes,” he says, placing his phone to the side and lying down.

I join the stranger on my back. At least I think he's a stranger. I still have no clue who this guy is, but there is something eerily familiar about him that I can’t put my finger on.

The longer the evening goes on, the more I don’t want to know. Tonight’s been exactly what I need, and I don’t want to burst this little bubble of excitement.

The only thing I do know is I’m enjoying a surprisingly comfortable silence, which is both refreshing and unusual.

Bright lights appear in the sky from a distance, and his hand slips into mine when he turns his head to me. “Get ready,” he proclaims.

As they approach his grip on my hand tightens.

My heart pounds as blood surges through my veins. Rushes of thrill and fear race through me as I turn toward him. My face says it all, and he lets out the sexiest laugh I've ever heard.

“Come here,” he says pulling me into his chest and wrapping his arms around me.

The protection he offers soothes me to my toes, and suddenly, my heart is pounding for a different reason. I tilt my head up toward him when the loudest sound I've ever heard takes over my world, and the ground starts to shake in response.

Suddenly, lights surround us along with the force of a wind stronger than anything I’ve ever felt. I turn into him, tightening my hold on his chest but not able to take my stare away from what's approaching.

Shouts of joy burst from his two friends, and just when I think I can't handle it anymore, a huge plane takes off from seemingly directly above us, causing the wind to triple in strength.

I can't help but scream with the most intense feeling of relief, amazement, and pure awe as I stare at the underbelly of a 747 lifting off the ground and back into the air.

The guys holler around me, celebrating our experience as I clutch my hand to my chest, still struggling to catch my breath. “What in the world?” I ask when I can finally speak.

“They were practicing touch and go’s,” he says, like that’s the only thing I’m questioning.

“Out here?” I ask in disbelief.

“Well...that might have been because of me,” he says nonchalantly.

“You? How did you—”

“Let's go. There's still more in store for tonight.”

I try to get up with shaky knees. His hand reaches out and lifts me straight into him.

“Are you up for more?” he asks with a sex-laced voice that makes my insides tingle.

“Who are you?” I search his eyes, but it’s so dark I can barely see the color.

“You’ll find out soon enough.”

“Then tell me, what’s all of this about?”

Nothing but a smile appears through his mask, and something tells me to stop asking questions and just play along. This could be the night of my life.