Chapter Forty-Two

Darian. The name flashed through my mind and suddenly everything made sense. My eyes wandered around the vibrantly colored room. It was a simple place, with old-style ceiling lights, green and red LEDs that sometimes flashed for a few seconds, and worn wooden tables. To think that Mads Moser frequented a place like this made me almost certain of his character. There, men and women chatting, playing pool, drinking, and playing the jukebox in a rough and relaxed manner were in stark contrast to the high society people who frequented Moser's gatherings. I imagine Adrien in a place like that, would he be able to give in and be more approachable like his father? Mads has a wild spirit and has the chance to wish for a different path, Adrien was already born into this world of advantages, so it was likely that he wouldn't want a different life than the one he was living.

Darian's blue eyes continued to analyze me, perhaps the reaction he expected from me was one of surprise or fear. What I felt was more like curiosity and a sharp look that now wanted to uncover every person present, including him.

"So you get together to ride bikes." It could be literal, it could just be that, but it never was. Darian takes a sip of his beer and I see the foam around his lips. His face changes, and suddenly he no longer looks like a random man enjoying cheap beer and old music, his calculated demeanor and resilient face with a few lines of cold expression reveal him as the leader he is.

"I thought you were smarter. Yeah, everyone here has an appreciation for bikes, you know, feeling the wind in your face, freedom at the door." He says, wiping his cheek with his hand, his tone alternating between irony and genuine feeling for the whole thing. "You already felt it. He introduced you to this feeling." His index finger, which I first notice is wrinkled, tattooed, and has an ingrown toenail, points in the direction of the man in question. I don't have to turn around to know it's him. Mads showed me a lot and taught me a lot, and I was hooked, dying for more. "But no, it's not just that."

What else could there be? Darian looks around and takes another deep sip of his drink. I follow his gaze and see everything that moved this place: people. I see the faces, some friendly, some somber with a shadow in their eyes, others laughing and talking nonsense under the influence of alcohol. It was strange to realize that none of these people were familiar to me, I didn't know any of them and maybe that was starting to scare me. Darian doesn't say anything and this action is so strange that I turn to him and there I find the cold blue irises above me again, watching me with a certain interest.

"Each person here has sacrificed a lot to be where they are, each of them has a dark side that you and not even the others are aware of." His words came easily, flowing like a slow-moving river, but his voice was deeper, husky and intimidating. "But I know."

"Do you use it against them?" I ask anxiously, deciding to take a sip of the beer warming in my mug.

"No, darling." He smiles smugly as if everyone knows why but me. "A price was paid for them to be here, to prove that they could submit to the hierarchy." I immediately think of Mads, why was he there for anything other than the desire to meet people who shared his tastes? What price had he paid?

"Why?" Darian smiles, I see his yellow, crooked teeth, and I try to focus on his eyes, but what was repulsive in one was fierce in the other. My question is sincere, unbelieving.

"Because they have nothing, or they lack something." His mouth twitches, considering his own words. I see a gleam in his eyes that had been extinguished before, pride. "Something they can find here, something I can offer. Protection? Work? Freedom? A home? Danger? Something."

"Who would seek danger?"

"A lot of people, Dakota, including you." I freeze, my eyes doubling in size, and that pleases him. "Yes, darling, you. You are always seeking it, adventure, excitement, something." His voice is firm with every word, every hint of what he thinks he knows about me. His expression is closed as if that somehow makes him both satisfied and impassive.

"You don't know..."

"I don't know? You're fucking a man more than twice your age, you're drinking beer as if to show that you're experienced at it, but you're not. You challenge and question, but all you feel is insecurity..." I feel droplets of saliva splash on my cheek, his words cut me, wounding at the same time as they are deep, said only to me. "...clench your hands on the strap of your bag, because that's what helps you take control of the situation." I involuntarily reach for the strap, for the leather I can squeeze, but I can't reach it on the counter, not without him noticing. "Do you feel affected by the abandonment... Which I bet was from an older man, too? You dirty little girl. It turns you on, and you like it because it makes you feel free, resurrecting sad things that happened to you and turning them into pure ecstasy, that's all you have. Makes life more exciting, doesn't it?"

His insults eat away at me, every word curses me and exposes me in an unprecedented way, I feel naked, undressed and open to a bunch of strangers, to this man with the disgusting face. The feeling of being read and leafed through like a book made me squirm on the bench, swallowing saliva and the typical pain in my throat. The worst effect of his words was the knowledge that they were right, that I was a fool, that something inside of me was pulsating with exactly those things. The image of a man from the past came to mind, the image of Mads came to mind, our nights, the realization of something we both knew was immoral, perhaps dirty, strange, and our persistence in bringing it to life by feeding every desire like that. My eyes moisten, but I refuse to expose myself any further, I take a deep breath and raise my chin as I stare into the man's eyes.

"Still, young lady, I would not judge the way you seek and desire, whether it be because of danger or your idea of freedom. It's yours, and I'd be a hypocrite since I shelter and support many others who seek the same in ways more questionable than yours." His smile spreads across his face, but I don't see him in the sympathetic way I saw him before, he's tainted with arrogance, cynicism and dark secrets. Darian reaches out a hand and brushes away a few strands of my bangs. "But I'm not telling you these things for the reason you think..." His eyes flick behind me and I know he's looking at Mads, a hungry look. "...But to make sure you're respectful, I want you to get to know us, Dakota, to know that we have rules, that Mads," he points at him with his chin. "is very fond of the novelty that you are, which has been harmless until now, yes, I think you are, but things change."

"I don't see what I can do..." His hand rises, cutting me off, as do his thin eyebrows.

"And if things change, I'll change to interfere anyway."

"That's a threat." Darian smiles and spreads his arms.

"See? I like you, girl. There's no room for error." He sips his beer, his speech still poking at my mind. "Entertain that man, live, be entertained, take risks. But know where things burn and obey if you want to stay intact." He says it with unbelievable naturalness, then stands up, smiling at me in particular.

I feel a warm touch that sends shivers down my spine, firm hands touch my shoulder and I recognize their owner. Mads runs his fingers down my neck, my body responding, my mind still reeling from every word spoken before. Suddenly I'm overwhelmed by pain, anger, pleasure, fear and an immense desire that confuses me, that makes me dizzy. I want "something" all the time, but at the same time, the idea makes me feel repulsed at myself for calling so desperately for the danger Darian had told me about. I was at a loss, lured by such tempting offers. I used to be conventional, but that was a long time ago.