CHAPTER 4
Grant
A bony knob wedged its way into my rib cage. I was about to swat it away, when I breathed in her coconut scent. Hazel. How did she always smell like a sunset in paradise? Sunscreen and citrus and tropical. I opened my eyes and glanced at her. Her head was turned away, her blond hair clumped together in sleepy tresses.
I sat up and rubbed my eyes. Despite me rocking the bed, Hazel was fast asleep. I should have told her to go back to her room. I should have reminded her that I had rented a three-bedroom apartment for a strict purpose. But her tormented gaze had locked me in. She needed reassurance. It didn’t matter if it was me or someone else. She needed someone there. And I didn’t want her to seek out someone else. Not when I could easily provide for her.
But I couldn’t let that happen again.
Once I put on my pajama bottoms, I scooped Hazel up, wrapping the flat sheet around her. She stirred, but stayed asleep; she must have been in a deeper slumber than she had been in months. Guilt settled in my stomach. I had been a part of her trauma. But I shook the feeling away; I was doing my duty. Back then, imprisoning her, as shitty as it may have been, provided her with a safer space than leaving her out in the open with Eric. He would have killed her. He had tried to with the laced cocaine.
I gently placed her on her own bed, then pulled the comforter up to her shoulders. Without opening her eyes, she yawned, then grabbed the blanket and flipped onto her stomach. I bent down. Her eyes were crusted over, perhaps from crying herself to sleep. And though her limbs were entwined in the blanket, her back was exposed, her shirt pushed up, showing off her bare skin. A raised red streak, hints of purple to the sides of it. A bruise. From me.
What the hell was I thinking? Hazel wasn’t a play partner or a fuck buddy or anything remotely close to that. She was the person I had sworn to protect, the same woman I would gladly help find her way into normal society. But because my dick did the talking for me, I had volunteered to hit her. Like a damn fool.
Like she wanted.
It was the same reason I had let her sleep in my bed. It was what she needed. And who would I be to let her go without it?
I needed to stop abusing my position. Hazel might have felt pressured to say ‘yes’ because of the power I had over her safety.
But it wasn’t like I had forced her, or even asked her to come to my bed.
I closed the door behind me. After a shower, I checked her room, pressing my ear to the door. She was still sleeping. I texted, hoping it wouldn’t wake her:Getting that security system. Some other errands. Be back later.
During the daytime, Club Hades looked like an industrial plant. A closed-off parking garage. The world’s biggest cinder block. The sun seared every surface, making it as reflective as a mirror. Reminding us that we were in the damn desert. We had no business living here.
I had lived in the area, and the cities nearby, most of my life. Club Hades had a reputation. A few other leather clubs sometimes frequented it, but we, the members of the Afterglow, were the ones who used it the most frequently. Still, that didn’t mean that Larry, the owner of Club Hades, would help my request for information. But I had to try.
I knocked on the door. Out shuffled a man, a foot shorter than me, with a long ponytail and a potbelly. He adjusted the leather vest on his shoulders.
“Grant, my man,” he said. He held out a hand. “What the hell are you doing here so damn early?”
It was past eight a.m. It wasn’t that early.
“Larry,” I said. I gave him a firm handshake. “I came to ask for a favor.”
“Uh oh. Well, shit.” He gestured inside. “Come on in.”
There was a hidden door in one of the dungeon walls that led to Larry’s office. Inside, there was a cream-colored leather couch, a large desk, an old desktop computer, and a few filing cabinets. Club Hades had been his pet project. He had purchased it off of the last owner during the recession, but soon, he had spent as much time here as he did in his own home.
He took a seat in the swivel chair at the desk. I sat on the couch.
“What can I do for you?” he asked. He pulled out a pair of glasses from the desk drawer and put them on.
“I need the list of attendees for last night’s event,” I said. Larry furrowed his brows. “My—” I paused. How the hell did I explain Hazel? “—roommate has been receiving some unwanted messages from an unknown source, someone who was here last night. I want to analyze the list and see what comes up.”
“What kinds of messages?” he asked.
“Pictures of her. When she doesn’t know she’s being watched.”
Larry sighed. “Sorry, man. I can’t help you. You know the rules.” He leaned over and patted the nearest filing cabinet. “Discretion is the number one priority at Club Hades. That would be a serious breach of privacy.”
I had figured that much. “I’m not here to out anyone. I want to see if anything comes up. Make sure that it doesn’t. The pictures were of her talking with another member here.”
“That sucks.” Larry shook his head. “I want to help. I do, man, I do. But this isn’t the kind of thing I can let slide. You’d have to be the owner of the club. Buy it from me or something.”
I raised an eyebrow. “You’re selling?”
