King of Forgotten Clubs Read online

  The fantasy shattered.

  Kali turned to stone in my arms. “We have to go,” she said, separating herself from me.

  “That’s not what I meant.” As if I could explain away saying the wrong girl’s name.

  “It’s this way.” She started walking again, her back to me.

  I stumbled after her. I couldn’t find the words to fix this. Maybe I could tell her: “You’re worth getting shot at for,” or, I have a speech disorder.”

  Then there was what I wanted to say but couldn’t: “Don’t leave me.”

  “Where is this place?” We’d been weaving through alleys for ten minutes, and I was beginning to think her goal was to lose me in them.

  “We’re almost there.” She turned abruptly and jumped a few inches onto a fire escape. Some sort of loud banging drifted down from a window up above.

  “Looks promising,” I joked.

  She didn’t answer. I didn’t think I really expected her to.

  I grabbed a handrail and hauled myself up. The black fire escape hugged the wall all the way to a third-story window. Considering there were two more stories after that, the building seemed like a bit of a fire hazard. “Please tell me you’re not taking me to a drug den.”

  She flashed a smile over her shoulder. “Better.” Then she remembered she was mad at me and threw in a glare for good measure.

  She reached the top of the fire escape. A blast of noise accompanied her tossing the window open. The place seemed a little less subtle than I’d imagined, and a little more loud.

  When she hopped through the window, I followed her, trying to hide my panic. She could be taking me anywhere. Did I really trust her?

  For some ungodly reason, I did.

  The room inside was lit with strobe lights. Kali pulled a blackout curtain closed behind us.

  “Where are we?” I shouted over a thumping bass.

  I didn’t know it was possible to soundproof windows, but they must have in order to keep the place from being heard in Idaho. People were packed into the small squarish area, all of them gyrating to the music. It was the kind of place that should come with a seizure warning. Or at least a migraine warning.

  Kali’s teeth looked green in the light. I couldn’t hear what she said in response.

  I leaned closer. “What?”

  She pushed me away and dove into the crowd, hips swaying to the beat of the music.

  I hurried after her. I wasn’t sure what I’d do if I got lost in the crush. “Kali!” I shouted.

  She didn’t turn around. I drowned in the crowd. An elbow jabbed my ribcage. Something wet hit my leg. I thought I saw a flash of blond hair, but I ran into a counter I could have sworn hadn’t been there a minute ago.

  “Kali!” I yelled.

  “Five dollars,” someone shouted in my ear.

  I started. The bartender shoved a sloshing cup at me. I shook my head and held up my empty palms. I had no money, which was hilarious, since I was supposed to be loaded. Crazy parties in unfindable clubs should have been my everyday existence. I’d thrown it all away, and I’d boomeranged straight back—minus the money.

  I shook my head. I hadn’t even thought about my past life in months. Was that stupid fake smoke laced with something?

  “Kali!” I screamed, shoving away from the bar.

  A hand brushed against my arm. Kali smiled at me. She said something I couldn’t hear. I gestured in the direction I suspected a door might be. She fled back onto the dance floor. I swore and went after her.

  I caught up to her in the middle of the chaos. Kali was dancing. Her arms were stretched up above her head, as if she could pull herself out of there with sheer muscle and willpower. Her eyes were closed, lips counting a beat I couldn’t follow.

  I reached up to draw one of her hands into mine. “We’ll be okay,” I said into her ear.

  She leaned against me. “Maybe.”

  I tried to think of a speech about uncertainty and risk, but I didn’t have the lung capacity to deliver it in this room.

  “Pak.”

  I wrapped an arm around her waist. “Yeah?”

  “Behind you.”

  That didn’t make any sense.

  The lights burst all at once. My knees buckled. Kali screamed something incomprehensible in my ear.

  Kali was floating away. Her entire body strained in my direction as a monster with bulging muscles and bright red tattoos pulled her away.

  Finally. Finally, she chose me.

  CHAPTER SIX

  How to Destroy

  Exhibit H: I drag my friends into trouble.

  I woke up in an abandoned room. I got up slowly. Every joint in my body ached. I watched the light catch a dust mote for a moment before trying to reorient myself. I was in the same room the club had been in last night. I had to be. A counter ran along one side, a window at the back. The room was about the size of a walk-in closet. I had no idea how all those people had fit into it.

  I found my feet and staggered to the door. Flashes of memory were beginning to come back. Kali. She’d been snatched right off the dance floor. I didn’t know how long I’d been unconscious. She could be anywhere. I paused to lean against the doorframe. No, not anywhere. I knew exactly who had her. I just needed to get her back.

  For that, I would need more than a plan. I needed the Stone Throwers.

  The school parking lot was empty, typical for July. I watched the brick façade of the school as if it might stand up and try to swallow me whole. I would rather not have been on school grounds without a legal obligation to do so, but I hadn’t been able to find my phone after I’d woken up at the club. At the time, I’d decided the old piece of junk wasn’t worth enough to stick around and look for, which meant I’d had to resort to using our tic-tac-toe board system to call a meeting, limiting me to telling the others to meet at the school.

  The groan of a dying motor announced the arrival of Sam’s car.

  “Can’t you drive your convertible?” I called to Birdie as she got out of the passenger seat.

  She shrugged. “It’s down for repairs again.”

  “He’s not even part of the group.” I’d tried invoking founders’ rights multiple times since Birdie had started taking Sam everywhere, but she kept overturning me on the grounds that we’d never gotten around to writing down rules.

  “He’s a member by extension.”

  “You can’t just say words and get your way.”

  Sam sat on the hood of his car and offered a hand to Birdie. “Yes, she can.”

  Birdie beamed and joined him on the makeshift seating.

  I don’t know why I’d bothered arguing at all. If I could convince Birdie to do anything, we’d still be together, and Sam would be off frying potatoes or whatever it was he did. But she’d insisted we were destructive together, and now here we were, apart. She was blissfully happy, and my life was in ashes. Maybe she was right, except maybe it wasn’t “us” that was the problem. Maybe it was just me.

  “Where’s Annabelle?” I looked around as if she might appear out of the air. I needed someone to throw me off-center and knock me out of my dark mood. Madison wasn’t there yet, either, but she had the longest drive.

  Birdie pursed her lips. “She’ll be here.”

  Our resident pyromaniac pulled into the parking lot in a baby-blue El Camino. Madison parked and got out.

  “New ride?” Sam asked.

  When did he notice cars, anyway? I shoved my irritation away. I would not waste any more time hating Sam. A girl’s life was at risk—and not just any girl. Kali. Who I’d thoroughly wronged.

  “Something about appealing to voters,” Madison said sadly. I couldn’t remember what she used to drive, but she’d clearly been attached to it.

  Birdie clapped her hands. “Now that we’re all assembled—”

  “We’re not all assembled,” I interrupted. “Annabelle isn’t here yet.”

  Birdie’s eyes darted back and forth.

  “What do you k
now?” I demanded.

  “I—” Birdie said.

  “Leave off, Higgins,” Sam said.

  I growled. No one called me by my last name. “Doesn’t it bother anyone but me that he’s here?”

  “No,” Madison said. Of course. I couldn’t remember a single incident of something bothering Madison.

  “Can we get on with the mission?” Birdie asked.

  I huffed out a breath. “Fine. But pizza boy has to wait in the car.”

  “Pak!” Birdie planted her hands on her hips.

  Sam rolled his eyes. “It’s fine. I’ll go. Just don’t turn this into an hour-long meeting of the We Hate Sam Club.”

  Birdie popped a kiss on his cheek. “I’ll tell them off if they try.”

  Sam retreated into his car. Victory was mine. For the moment.

  I looked around at what was left of the Stone Throwers. We were hardly an organized machine of terror and scheming. Not for the first time, I missed the days when we thought we could conquer the world.

  “Right,” I said. “This is a rescue mission.”

  “What are we rescuing, your brains or your self-worth?”

  I spun around. Annabelle stood behind me, looking like a goddess of destruction in full wrath mode. “Annabelle.” I stared at her, trying to see past her aviators to decipher what she was thinking.

  A muscle in her cheek jumped. “Well?”

  “Well, what?” I asked.

  “Who are we rescuing?”

  I pulled myself out of my stupor. “Kali. I mean, Rachel. Er, the blonde with the nose piercing.”

  “We’re doing what?” Birdie’s screech could have set off burglar alarms.

  I glared at her. “I’m not asking you to destroy anyone’s life. I’m asking you to save it.”

  Birdie crossed her arms.

  “I’m with Birdie,” Annabelle said. “I’m not helping some bimbo get out of a mess she created herself.”

  “She didn’t create it! She’s in real trouble!”

  “I’ll help,” Madison said softly.

  Birdie and Annabelle were too busy staring me down to notice.

  “I’m out,” Annabelle said.

  Birdie nodded and slid down from the car.

  “Wait. I can’t do this on my own.” I didn’t have resources. I didn’t even have a plan. All I had were my friends, and if they wouldn’t help, I didn’t know what I’d do.

  Annabelle didn’t stop walking.

  Birdie paused. “If I help you, will you do something for me?”

  “Depends.” I was desperate, but I still knew better than to declare willingness to do anything around Birdie.

  “Talk to Annabelle. And I mean seriously talk.” Give Birdie a cause and she turned into a one-woman firing squad.

  “I’ve been trying to talk to her.”

  “No. You’ve been half-assing it, like you do everything. Don’t screw this one up, Pak.”

  I gritted my teeth. It was already wrecked. Even I could see that. Anyway, if Birdie wanted the right to tell me what to do, she shouldn’t have left me. But Kali was in real trouble, and I couldn’t go toe-to-toe against a drug ring on my own. “Fine. After we’ve saved Kali, I’ll talk to Annabelle and use whatever stupid checklist you think appropriate.”

  Birdie lit up. “Let’s do this.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  How to Recover

  Exhibit I: I’m still broke.

  “There’s still one piece missing,” Birdie said.

  We were sitting around the table at Cheesey’s. I didn’t know why scheming and terrible food went hand in hand, but they did.

  “I think it grew legs and walked away,” I said.

  “Not from the pizza. The plan. There’s a piece of the plan missing.” Birdie tapped a finger on the table. “How are we going to get the money?”

  “Please. We’re rich beyond anyone else’s wildest dreams. I mean, I used to be. We have to be able to get some money,” I said.

  Birdie shifted in her seat. “I only have access to my account, and Mom never puts more than a couple thousand in there at a time. You’re talking about ten times that amount, Pak.”

  “Well, I don’t have it.” I turned to Madison.

  “Sorry, no.” She shrank into the backrest. “I don’t even have as much as Birdie. My parents think deprivation builds character.”

  “This is ridiculous.” I buried my head in the arms. “How could this be our holdup?”

  “Maybe we could get a loan?” Madison asked.

  “Maybe Sam could get a loan,” I said. “He could put a mortgage on the business or something.”

  “We are not asking Sam for money,” Birdie said. “You kicked him out, remember?”

  “I can still hear you,” Sam said from behind the counter.

  “Stop ruining the pretending.” I pushed back from the table. “I know how to get money.”

  “We’re not robbing a bank,” Birdie said.

  “Not what I meant. I need to borrow your phone.”

  Birdie frowned but handed it over.

  I walked outside. Took a deep breath. Dialed.

  The phone rang once before Mom answered. “Hello?”

  “Mom? I need your help.”

  “Pak?” I tried to pretend the breathless excitement in her voice didn’t exist. “Hold on a second.” Muffled shouting played into my ear. The sound returned to normal. “I’ve got your father. You’re on speaker.”

  Great. Just what I needed. “What, did you put a bet on this? How long it would take me to come crawling back?”

  “No, Pak, we just want to talk to you.”

  “No, you want to shuffle me off somewhere else where you can conveniently use me for photo ops.” I knew this would happen. First rule of living in glass houses: Never trust anyone. They’re all just waiting to watch you fall.

  “That’s not what we were trying to do.”

  “Stop acting like a child,” my dad growled over the line.

  “I’m seventeen! What do you want from me?” My explosion was met with silence.

  Until, “Pak,” my mother whispered, “we’re just trying to help you.”

  Except I couldn’t bring myself to believe her. I hung up. There were plenty of places to get money.

  Right. Like jobs. And banks.

  I walked until I found a park bench I could collapse on. This couldn’t be how my rescue mission ended. I hated how desperately important money kept turning out to be.

  I didn’t know how long I sat there before she sat down beside me without a word. I tilted my head to take her in. Her brown hair was wild, her hands occupied with tearing apart another Styrofoam cup, as though she were trying to recreate the day we broke up.

  “Hey,” I said, because it was all there was to say.

  “They told me you wandered off this way. Just so you know, I’m not stalking you.”

  “I didn’t think you were.” I wanted to wrap my arms around her and never let go. But that would be weak, and I wouldn’t let myself be weak in front of her.

  “I have some money. In a savings account.” A piece of Styrofoam fluttered to the ground. “I was keeping it for college, but it’s my money. I can take it all out if I need to.”

  “You don’t even like Kali.”

  “I’ve never really met her.” She turned to me. “Does she matter to you?”

  “Yes.” The word came out raw and bloody.

  “Then she matters to me. So. You going to fill me in on this plan, or what?”

  “I won’t lose your money,” I said. “I’ll make sure to get it back. You’re getting out of here and going to college.”

  She bumped my shoulder. “Eh. I have a feeling no matter how far I go, I’d get pulled back into one scheme or another.”

  We smiled at each other, for all the world like a pair of idiots in love. “Let’s go fight some drug dealers.”

  “Wait. Drug dealers? No one mentioned drug dealers. I’m out.” Her lie was ruined when she burst into
laughter. “Your face. Okay, let’s go. For real, this time. Blond damsels don’t rescue themselves.”

  “Maybe they could if they had a sword.”

  She shrugged with one shoulder. “Maybe. But it’s more fun to make the prince do it for them. That way they get a marriage out of the deal.”

  “I am not marrying Kali.”

  If it was anyone but Annabelle, I might have said she relaxed. “Last one to Cheesey’s actually has to eat there.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  How to Execute

  Exhibit J: Bingo.

  It had been a while since I’d been to the western side of L.A. Even the gleaming buildings tried to tell me I didn’t belong here as I strolled down the street in tattered jeans and an old T-shirt. Luckily, I still had enough contacts to get what I needed: a phone number.

  “I’m here,” I told the earpiece I’d borrowed from Madison. I’d never have been able to juggle the bag of money at my side and Birdie’s smartphone. I hadn’t had time to get myself a new phone after the loss of the old one.

  Oh, who was I kidding? I couldn’t afford a new one.

  “Set the money down,” said the diluted voice on the other end.

  I dropped the bag. I was scoring the last box of rap sheet bingo: making a drug deal. Then again, my goal was not the acquisition of drugs, but the tracking of whoever was selling them. I’d needed to offer big money to make sure it was management biting and not a two-bit dealer who wouldn’t know anything.

  “Walk away.”

  I did. Birdie, on the other hand, stayed in position.

  I switched calls. “Are they approaching?”

  “Not yet,” she said. “Give it a minute.”

  I switched back.

  “Reach under the trash can. And that concludes our deal, Mr. Higgins.”

  A shot of cold fear snapped my spine straight. I’d never given them my real name. “What’s under the trash can?”

  The line was dead. No, no, no! This couldn’t go wrong, not already.