Hellfire | J. Storm

CHAPTER THREE ¤ BABYSITTER FREE ¤

AS JOHNNY STEPPED OUT OF THE LIMO, THE USUAL WAVE OF MAYHEM HIT HIM. Screams erupted from all directions as fans and bloggers jostled for position, snapping photos and yelling his name. Girls were pushing through the crowd, some holding up signs, others just trying to catch his eye. Normally, this would have been a perfect opportunity for him to flash a grin, give them a wink, and revel in the attention. But tonight, something about it all felt off.

"Johnny! Johnny! Is that your new girlfriend?" a blogger called out from the side, their camera zooming in on him and Charlie.

The question made him cringe internally. The idea of calling Charlie anything close to a girlfriend was borderline absurd, especially after what she'd told him in the limo. That whole killed someone confession had given him a serious chill, and now, even thinking about her in any way remotely romantic was out of the question.

"She's my... friend," Johnny answered, though his voice lacked its usual charm. The words came out stiff, as if he wasn't even sure of them himself. He cleared his throat awkwardly. "We go way back."

The blogger raised an eyebrow, looking over at Charlie, who stood there with the same emotionless expression, completely unfazed by the commotion. The camera guy didn't press for more, quickly glancing back at Johnny before snapping a few more shots and moving on.

As they made their way inside, Johnny kept his hands firmly in his pockets, too rattled to even consider throwing his arm around her. The memory of that chilling statement still lingered, but he wasn't about to let it ruin the night.

Once inside, the club's atmosphere hit him like a wave. The thumping bass of the music vibrated through his chest, and the lights flashed in time with the beat, casting neon hues across the crowd. 

Bodies moved in sync on the dance floor, lost in the pulsing rhythm, while laughter and loud chatter filled the air. The VIP section was packed with the usual crowd—beautiful people lounging on sleek, leather couches, bottles of champagne glittering on the tables.

Johnny made a beeline for the bar, Charlie still by his side. Her presence didn't feel as heavy as it had earlier, but he could tell she was still on edge, scanning the room with her sharp, calculating eyes. He ordered a drink, then glanced at her.

"You want one?" he asked, his tone casual as he took the glass from the bartender.

She didn't even blink. "No."

Johnny shrugged. "Suit yourself." He took a long sip, savoring the burn of the alcohol as it slid down his throat. He was already starting to loosen up. The music, the crowd, and the energy of the place were working their usual magic, pulling him back into his comfort zone.

As the night wore on, Johnny began to feel more like himself again. He downed another drink, easing into the buzz, and for a while, he almost forgot about the earlier weirdness. The familiar, electric vibe of the club brought him back to life. He laughed, chatted with a few friends, and cracked a couple of jokes with people in passing.

At some point, he caught sight of a girl standing near the edge of the dance floor, her eyes lingering on him. She was tall, with long dark hair and a tight dress that shimmered in the lights. The way she glanced at him, a subtle smile playing on her lips, was unmistakable. She was definitely checking him out.

Johnny grinned to himself, the confidence returning in full force. He was used to this, after all—being the center of attention, the guy everyone wanted a piece of. He turned back to Charlie for a second, half-expecting her to react or even notice the exchange, but she was still in her own world, calm and collected as ever, surveying the crowd like she was still on a job.