Marcus’ POV
By the time I manage to get a cab and across town to the bar that Kane texted me, it’s past seven and a queue has formed outside of the building boasting a trendy neon sign.
Bypassing the line, I head to the bouncer who looks up at me as I approach.
‘My friends are already inside’ I tell him, jerking my head toward the doors, ‘the Boston Hawk hockey team?’ I add at his frown.
Recognition flits across his face before he smiles widely, ‘Marcus Langway, Demo! f***k me. Yeah, yeah, your guys arrived about an hour ago, go on in.’
He pulls back the rope, allowing me past, clapping me on the shoulder as I step toward the door.
Once inside, I’m met with a wall of bodies, this place is obviously popular, and with the scent of expensive cologne and perfume in the air, it’s a far cr
