Page 112 of Safe Word

This wasn’t tiredness or the alcohol.

‘What’s wrong?’ I asked, bracing closer, my tone harsher than intended.

She closed her eyes, fingers pressing to her temple. And then, almost in a whisper, she said, ‘I think… I’ve been roofied.’

All my senses sprung to high alert. My fingers dug into the glass that creaked under the pressure, as my gaze combed over the faces, masked and unmasked.

Vinnie. He brought the drinks. Was this a fucking joke?

A surge of irritation boiled up to the surface with the idea of him being careless, or worse, responsible. But I shook it off just as quickly.

That wasn’t Vinnie. It couldn’t have been. If he wanted to push Paula and me over the edge, he wouldn’t resort to this.

My mind darted to the two male hosts who’d approached Paula when she walked in, the way they’d circled her like wolves before retreating under her glare. I wanted to find them, to demand answers, to ensure they never got near her again. But I wasn’t sure it had been them.

‘How do you know?’ I asked carefully, with a strained mix of anger and concern as I reached my other hand over the table to steady her with both.

Her gaze slid to mine, and for the first time that evening, I saw something unfiltered and vulnerable behind her usual stoicism.

‘My ex,’ she said quietly. ‘He used to… make me take things. When I told him no.’ Her voice faltered. ‘I know how it feels.’

She didn’t look at me. And I didn’t ask further.

Because I saw red.

Rage and helplessness collided in a way that made it hard to breathe. The thought of someone – anyone – drugging her – hurting her – cut into me. It wasn’t just about Paula. It was the way my mother used to flinch when the front door slammed. The way she would lie and cover bruises. And I’d be damned if I’d let any woman become another story swallowed by shadows.

I wanted to find the bastard, to make him regret everything he’d ever done to her.

But then I caught myself, the ferocity of my reaction startling me.

And, as her balance faltered slightly, her fingers trembling against the table, I realised I couldn’t leave her like this and go on a rampage.

‘Come on,’ I said firmly, standing and holding out my hand. ‘I’ll drive you home. You need to lie down.’

She hesitated for a moment, her eyes meeting mine. They were still glazed, but a flicker of trust passed between us, and she relented, placing her hand in mine.

The warmth of her skin sent a jolt through me, but I pushed it aside.

I liked my women consensual. I liked giving pleasure in pain. I was good at it – but not like this.

Right now, all that mattered was getting her to safety. My anger, my confusion, my own tangled emotions… they could wait.

I called Vinnie as soon as I was behind the wheel, telling him what had happened. The silence on the other end of the line confirmed his shock. He said he would handle the fans, and even look into who might’ve done this. I knew I could count on him.

Her place was small, neat, and too damn exposed. The moment I stepped in, I noticed the cameras; tiny, black lenses tucked into corners, covering every angle of the room. One in the kitchen, one facing the door, another near the hallway. The sight of them pulled a knot in my chest, each one a silent testament to the past she was clearly still running from.

The pieces started clicking together, one jagged shard at a time. Her ex – an arms dealer. I’d already pieced together enough from the little she’d let slip, but now, standing here, it hit differently. This wasn’t just a precaution or a quirk. She lived in fear, constantly looking over her shoulder, waiting for the next blow to fall.

Like my mum.

Paula listed gently to one side, snapping me out of it. I caught her arm, steering her towards the bed. It was small and low, but the sheets looked soft, the only hint of softness in an otherwise fortified space.

‘Come on,’ I muttered, easing her down. She was pliant, allowing me to guide her onto the mattress.

As she sank back, the hem of her dress slid up, revealing the lace top of her stockings – black against golden skin. A pulse of heat lit in my gut. Shame lanced right through it.

Not now. Not like this.