Chapter 30
The Hell Fire Club sat at the far edge of the trendy meat-packing district, hidden in a block-long cellar below a shuttered tobacco store. A steep and cracked set of concrete stairs lead to a wood slat door that looked like it had been beaten down and put back up again piece by piece. Neal and Nick stood side by side at the top of the staircase, both in black, glancing down into the dimness.
“It looks like a s**t pit,” Nick said.
“This is the S&M club Brandon likes?” Neal said in dismay.
Nick shuddered and nodded. The door at the foot of the dreary staircase swung and a drunken leather queen stumbled out, bending over and looking like he was about to vomit. In a dizzy flash, Neal saw himself in the exact spot, bent over, throwing up two years ago. The shady edges of a for
