Phantom Rider - The Aftermath | Book 1

High on Pain

Mila's POV

Mila walked into the club, her eyes crystalline, pupils dilated. Vision sharp, but the world around her smudged in colors like a kaleidoscope. She was riding on a high. Her dress was so short that one incorrect move might reveal it all, and incorrect moves were what she came here to make.

She took a drink and went right to the dance floor in chase of new friends. Straps at the back of her dress pressed into her skin as she danced, making her aroused from her own movements. People felt her approachable energy, and soon enough there was a man dancing behind her, trying to touch her hips. She let him. She moved her hips as he brushed himself against her ass, trying to dance-floor fuck her with clothes on. She found it funny and miserable of him but kept dancing seductively.

He was not her type. She wanted something else, someone not so miserable. Someone with power. Someone bigger than her, stronger, someone ruder.

Someone who could put a gun to her head and take her at the club entrance for everyone to see. And hopefully shoot her afterward.

She wanted to be high when she died. So she stumbled to the toilet, took another pill of amphetamine from her purse. It was the third one this evening, but it would be fine.

And another wave of high hit her. She started to get nervous, fidgeting around. Unable to find her place in the club, she walked outside.

"Are you lost?" A deep voice interrupted her from shaking her bag in search of cigarettes.

"No, I am fine!" Her heart was beating fast, palms sweaty. "Where the fuck is that cigarette?"

"Here, take mine!" The man gave her a cigarette. She leaned against the club wall, smoking and feeling like a fucking goddess, looking up at the pitch-black night.

"Are you alone here?" he asked.

"If you want to fuck me, just say it!" She tilted her head and exhaled smoke in his face.

"You are very direct!" he smiled.

"Yeah, and I am not into small talk." Mila leaned in and kissed him. "Fuck me, here!"

"What, here?! No, come with me to VIP." He took her hand. Bill would never be such a coward.

"No! I said here!" She pushed her hand back.

"Are you insane? People will see us here!" He rolled his eyes, the one thing Mila hated the most.

She erratically searched her purse, took out a gun, pushed it at his chest, and whispered in his ear, "Wrong answer!" And shot.

People around started screaming and running away. She kept shooting them down one by one. Then dropped the gun, took off her high heels, left them on the street, and ran to hide.

She found a safe place between houses and collapsed on the cold concrete. She was so tired but was not able to fall asleep. Her body kept going, blood flowing in her veins and heart racing. Her jaw clenched, and sweat dripped all over her body.

"I have to do something!" She sneaked far away from the club and decided to go to yet another one. She sat at a table next to four men who looked like they had also killed.

"Rough night, huh?" One of them teasingly laughed at her messy looks.

"Yes!" Mila replied, taking a shot out of his hand and gulping it down her throat. "Yours also rough?"

"Not really, as you can see!" They all laughed but appeared to be friendly.

Mila crawled onto the table and arched her back like a cat, flaunting her ass straight into the stranger's face while talking to her drinking buddy in front of her.