Handcuffs And Kisses (Series #1)

Chapter 4

Lilian Carson POV

The neon lights of the City Nights club flickered in the distance, a pulsating heartbeat in the dark. It stood there like a siren’s call, loud, intoxicating, and dangerous. 

I hadn't planned to come here. 

But then again, nothing about tonight had been planned. 

I wandered aimlessly toward the club, my heels clicking against the pavement, each step feeling heavier than the last. My body moved forward, but my mind was stuck in the past. Stuck in the last few hours. 

The betrayal. The humiliation. 

The way Sam had looked at me, not with guilt, not even with regret, just indifference.  

I had gone there hoping for closure, hoping that maybe, just maybe, he would fight for me. That he would give a damn. 

But instead, I had walked in on him tangled in someone else’s arms, his hands where they didn’t belong, his lips whispering words that were never meant for me. 

'You were never enough.'

Those four words had carved themselves into my skin like a brand, searing and permanent. 

I needed to erase them. 

I needed to drown them in something stronger than pain, something that burned hotter than the ache inside me. 

Alcohol. 

Something to make me forget. 

Something to blur the edges of this night until it no longer existed. 

I reached into my bag, fingers grazing over the fake ID tucked inside my wallet. At nineteen, I wasn’t legally allowed to drink here—not for another two years. It had been Sam’s idea, ironically. For fun, he had said, slipping it into my palm with a cocky grin.

Funny how life worked. 

Now I was using it to disappear. 

The line outside the club stretched long, bodies pressing together, laughter spilling into the air like static. I could feel the bass vibrating beneath my feet, the promise of oblivion just beyond those doors. 

I pulled my jacket tighter around myself, suddenly hyper-aware of the way my hands trembled. Not from the cold, but from the weight of everything crashing down at once. 

The bouncer barely spared me a glance as I handed him my ID. 

His eyes scanned it, flicked up to me.

"Go ahead," he muttered, handing it back. 

I exhaled sharply, relief curling in my chest. 

No turning back now.

Inside, the club pulsed with life. 

Flashing lights cut through the haze, streaks of red, blue, and violet washing over the writhing mass of bodies. The scent of sweat, alcohol, and something vaguely sweet clung to the air, intoxicating and suffocating all at once.