My mind struggles to focus after my disturbed dreams.

"I know that look," Conner says to Devon. "Something went wrong. What?"

"I'll tell you later. For now, there are some things that need to be said to Avery."

I sit up, sleep melting from my mind instantly.

Devon keeps his distance from me, heading to the cleared desk and leaning against it, arms crossed.

"Not all of us are here tonight, but I speak for the guys," he says and the others, except Conner, nod. "Avery, I'm sorry. A lot of things went wrong. The Stay Gold was supposed to be a safe place for you, and it wasn't, in many ways."

The heat of Conner's thigh is against mine, but I snuggle deeper into the throw blanket, seeking more warmth. Devon's right. A lot of things went wrong. Me on his desk was one of them.

"How did you know?" I ask him. "How did you know to come and find me?"

That detail has been bothering me.

"Security cameras," he says, waving dismissively. "I'm not sure how you wound up in that hallway, but I noticed you in there and was going to come anyway. Then I saw him grab you. I'm sorry I wasn't faster."

"Rosana took me there to get some fresh air. After you—after we talked in your office, I had a panic attack."

"She's fired," Devon snaps. The finality and quickness of his decision makes me sick.

"You can't do that, Rosana was nothing but nice to me. It was your security guard—the man you hired to protect this club and who you sent to watch me in my apartment who tried to kidnap me."

"What if he paid her to do it? She's fired."

"She didn't—"

"No, she's not," Conner says. "You've made one bad decision after another. This one, I'm calling. I'll talk to her, make sure she's above board, and if she's clean, she'll stay on with a warning."

I nod at him in gratitude. The thought of the only kind person being thrown out on the streets because me is too much.

"Tell her the rest," Conner growls.

Devon clamps his jaw shut.

The rest...

"Tell her the whole truth about the cameras," Conner says.

Devon's gaze goes flinty, but he continues. "There are the usual, normal kind of security cameras through the building and the clubs, the official and unofficial. Then there are our own personal cameras."

He pauses. I frown at him, not understanding. I thought he would talk about Keith.

"It's bugged," Ty says bluntly. "The whole place is bugged Hunger Games style. Tables, hallways, doors, bathrooms and stalls, kitchen, stage, backstage, everything. Bugged."

"I'm not familiar with Hunger Games," I admit. I'm an embarrassment to modern society, I know, but my lack of entertainment knowledge is not the problem right now. "But if there are cameras recording everything, that means my every movement and conversation would be recorded twenty-four-seven if I had to live here, too."

"My personal offices, upstairs and this one are not bugged," Devon says, not commenting on the fact that every other place is wired like a Russian spy operation.

"I'm not staying here," I say.

"You can stay at my place," Conner says instantly.

Devon scoffs, "Fuck you."

Conner blows him a mocking kiss.

"Enough," Bastian says. He rubs a hand down his face in fatigue. "I'm tired of both your's bullshit. She can stay with me, in the attic apartment with two of my other sisters. It will be like a goddamn sleepover. All right?"

I think it over a moment.

The one thing no one is talking about is the dead man in the middle of this—the one who tried to kidnap me and wound up being killed and buried by three of the men in here.

I nod. It's not like I can back out of the contract now, right?

If they killed Carl, who else have they killed?

I pull the blanket closer.

As if reading my mind, Ty sits forward in the chair next to the sofa and takes my hand.

"You've got nothing to worry about. You didn't commit any crimes, and if anyone asks, you know nothing. We're going to make sure, from now on, that you truly are safe."

I twine my fingers in his tattooed ones and squeeze. Stockholm or not, I believe him.

Devon clears his throat for my attention. "You are one of us, now."

I glance around the room, silence fills the air. Ty, Bastian, Conner, and Devon are all watching me.

I don't know what to say. Then, a longing blooms in my chest. A desire to belong to them, be with them.

To understand what Keith had with them before the end—and to find out how he truly died.

I nod. Yes. I will be one of them.

"This is how it works. If you get caught, get a lawyer. Then you throw us under the bus, every single one of us if you have to, to walk free," Devon says.

I shake my head. "That's not how criminal organizations work. I'm not that big of an idiot."

"That's how it works," Bastian says solemnly. "You are one of us, but you don't go down with the rest of us for our crimes. Spill whatever you have to and go free." He's fidgeting with an unlit cigarette, scars crisscross his knuckles and hands from old fights, or...

"There's no slicing palms open or burning brands on my shoulders to finalize the arrangement, is there?" I ask, nervous.

"No," Conner says, giving a low chuckle. "As Bastian said, you are one of us, but you don't have guilt, or blood, on your hands. You have nothing to prove to us, Keith opened that door for you."

Devon approaches, hand extended for me to shake. I take it. "Welcome to the inside of the Stay Gold, Avery."

*** ONC 930 word count. And that's her decision! She's on the inside, now... Thank you for reading!***