Chapter One
Off the coast of New England...
My slender fingers tighten around the cold metal railing as the yacht skips over a tall, surging wave. A spray of salt water dashes itself across my cheek as my long black hair whips wildly in the wind. I’m standing right at the bow of this luxurious vessel, scanning the horizon for a glimpse of dry land. The rocky coastline disappears from view in our wake after what feels like the blink of an eye. This whole insane undertaking is unfolding more quickly than I ever could have imagined. I can’t help but wonder if I’ll be able to keep my head above water and see my assignment through. But as I glance around at the open waters of the Atlantic Ocean, I know one thing for certain:
There’s no turning back now.
A loud burst of music washes over the topside deck, followed by a chorus of tipsy giggles. I glance over my shoulder as a trio of gorgeous young women stumble through a swinging door and out into the open air, scattering my solitude to the salty wind. Ah, well. If I wanted peace and quiet, I could have stayed back in Boston like the good girl I’ve always been. Up until now, that is.
“Logan! What’re you doing out here all alone?” asks one of the girls, a leggy blonde named Brie. “The party’s just getting started below deck.”
“I’m saving up my energy for the island,” I tell her, pretending not to mind when she sloshes a bit of piña colada onto my black miniskirt.
“That’s fair,” nods Ani, a slender brunette who’s also decided to give the wild side a try. “From what I’ve heard about The Club, you’re gonna need all the energy you can muster. The guys there are supposed to be pretty ruthless.”
“Here’s hoping!” crows the third girl, a petite redhead named Kari. “If I’m not completely spent in an oversexed haze by the time morning rolls around, I’m asking for my money back.”
“Kari, you’re so bad!” Brie squeals, her blue eyes going wide as saucers. “I still can’t believe you talked us into this.”
“Oh please, Brie,” Kari laughs, rolling her eyes, “You’ve been going on about this place for years, now.”
“Ever since we were lowly little freshmen,” Ani grins, taking a long swig of her cocktail. “Don’t tell me this isn’t the best graduation present of all time.”
“I know you’re right,” Brie sighs, leaning unsteadily against the railing, “I guess I’m just a little...nervous. It’s been nothing but preppy frat boys for me for the last four years. This is going to be...quite the change of pace.”
“Scared you won’t be able to handle a real man?” Ani teases.
“Maybe a little,” Brie admits.
“Don’t worry,” Kari says, looping an arm around her blonde friend’s waist, “We’ll all look out for each other. And when morning comes, we’ll be sailing back to the mainland, safe and sound. We won’t let any of the big, bad bikers bite. Not too hard, anyway.”
“I have to say,” Ani remarks, swinging her gaze my way, “I was a little surprised when you asked to come along tonight, Logan.”
“Yeah,” Kari agrees, cocking her head at me, “You never seemed like much of a party girl in school.”
“What can I say,” I shrug, smiling as gamely as I can, “People change, I guess.”
The girls accept my vague answer and fall to giddily speculating about what the night has in store for us. I hardly knew any of them while we were undergrads together in Boston. But the second I caught wind of their plans to visit The Club as a graduation treat, they became my most valuable of acquaintances. It’s not just any pretty young thing who can score a trip to The Club, after all. A joy ride on this yacht is damn near impossible to get, unless you know the right people. Lucky for me, these three happen to be the exact right people. Talk about alumni networking.
“Oh my god,” Brie breathes, nearly dropping her cocktail overboard, “There it is!”
I jerk my gaze back toward the horizon and feel my heart lodge firmly in my throat. There in the distance, a long strip of land rises up from the churning sea. In the gathering twilight, the island looks unremarkable. A jagged shoreline gives way to a thickly-forested rise. Just visible above the tree line is the imposing watchtower of an old military base. From my research, I know that this fort dates back to the days of the American Revolution. But this island is no place for a history buff’s field trip these days, that’s for sure.
As the yacht skims across the gray Atlantic waters toward the island, a low thudding sound makes my ears prick up. The rhythm pulses more deafeningly with every passing moment. I wonder, for a second, if we’re not experiencing engine trouble. But when the crashing cacophony of hard rock sweeps in to complete the soundscape, I realize that I’m hearing a heavy bass line raging from the shore of the island. We hear the party before we see it, and I know this is my last chance to bail—to let the other dozen girls go on ahead of me and scurry back to shore with my tail between my legs.
But then I think, for a second, about what I’d be running back to. A cramped two bedroom apartment, unpaid bills, a fruitless job hunt, an ever-dwindling bank account...I have to own up to the fact that I’ve got nothing to go back to. Nothing at all to lose. There was a time when that thought would have saddened me. But now, I realize that dwelling on my loneliness and fear won’t get me anywhere. I have to face them head on. Face this place head on. Take action for the first time in my life. And if I end up getting destroyed in the process...Well, at least I will have lived through something.
A long, shrill boat whistle cuts through the misty air as the yacht pulls up to a creaky dock that leads onto the island. I stand rooted firmly to the deck as the full, chaotic scene raging on the island comes into view, unfolding before my baffled eyes.
At the center of a large clearing in the woods, a massive bonfire roars, sending fierce flames leaping and licking into the darkening night sky. Dozens of shadowy figures writhe and swarm in the fire light, undulating to the heavy, pulsating music blaring out across the water. Glass bottles catch the glow of the bonfire as they’re raised to thirsty lips, and a score of smoldering cigarette tips light up in the darkness like a swarm of devilish fireflies.
Lengths of bare limbs and torsos glow and glisten in the red light of the fire. Men and women are laid out across every surface in sight, having at each other without any inhibitions. It’s a goddamn orgy—and we’re about to charge right into the middle of it.