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“It’ll be at the front desk.” He hangs up before I’m able to respond. Jerk. I stare down at my cell phone, wondering if I really need my license. The thought of having to see Slade again causes my heart to ache, and I’m tempted to just get a new license instead of returning to Bleaker Street Tattoo.
Eve strolls up to the counter, and I’m happy to have the distraction. “Did anything work?” I paste a fake smile on my face.
“This dress is perfect.” She lays the slinky black silk and lace I’m not brave enough to even try on across the counter.
“I love that dress.” But it’s way out of my budget, even with my discount. “What’s the special occasion?” I ask and wait for her to deflect the question like she usually does.
“I’m going to a party at The Sterling Rope, the new club in town.”
“I need to get out more,” I joke with her. “I didn’t even know there’s a new club in town.”
“Their clientele prefers it if they don’t advertise. The club is private and requires background checks to join.”
It must be nice to run a business that you don’t have to promote. “Oh.” I guess it’s one more thing in this freaking town that’s out of my league. I can’t believe they have nightclubs you have to apply to go to.
“They’re having an open night tonight, and I have an extra invitation if you want to check it out.”
Since this might be my one and only chance to see the fancy nightclub, I throw caution to the wind and jump in with both feet. “I’d love to.” And I have the perfect dress for the occasion. Who cares if I’ll be eating ramen noodles for the next four weeks to pay for it?
* * *
Four hours later,I’m regretting my impulsive decision as I walk down the dark alley, looking for the little black keypad on the side of the building. The hair on the back of my neck stands up, telling me I should run in the opposite direction, but I ignore the warning and hold up the metal business card Eve gave me to the red scanner.
When the black metal door slowly pops open, I take a deep breath and step inside. “ID and invitation.” The tall, bald grouch glares down at me like I’m a bug under a microscope.
“I don’t have my ID.” Shoot. I forgot to pick it up from the tattoo shop. “But I have this.” I hand over the metal business card.
“Wait right over there.” He points at the black leather sofa next to the wall. A stunning blonde woman steps away from the large oak desk and glances down at the card in his hand. As they mutter back and forth, I lean close, trying to hear what they’re saying, but I can’t make it out.
It looks like my fun night out is going to end before it even gets started.
“I need your name and birthdate.” I jump, realizing Mr. Congeniality moved across the room without me noticing.
“Skye Moon Matheson.” I internally wince at my middle name, then spout off my birthdate.
While he’s typing into the computer, I glance over to the side as the heavy door opens, giving me a view of what’s going on inside this club. Oh, heck no. This isn’t a nightclub, it’s a human trafficking operation.
I can’t freaking believe Eve set me up to be kidnapped. The giant jerk comes back over and growls, “Come with me. We need to go over the club rules.”
I reach into my purse and wrap my hand around my taser as I stand up and pretend I’m going to meekly follow him.
We walk through a heavy black door, and I glance around the darkened room. My mouth falls open, and my eyes almost bug out of my head as I watch several guys approach a woman tied to a weird wooden thingy. Since every single one of them is freaking naked, I’m assuming they aren’t about to share recipes.
A woman poured into a black leather corset torture device walks by, and I wince when I see the tight piece of leather running between her butt cheeks. Ouch.
I’m such a freaking idiot. All the clues fall into place, and I want to smack my forehead when I realize I’m not in a hot new nightclub. I’m in a freaking sex club.
“Uh.” I hop to my tiptoes and tap Mr. Congeniality on the back of his shoulder. “I’ve changed my mind.” But the big jerk ignores me and opens a door at the end of the hall for me.
The gorgeous woman in the black leather corset walks over and lays her hand on his arm. “Bronx, I need your help for a moment.” I’m tempted to kiss her for the welcome interruption. Maybe I can make my escape while Mr. Congeniality is occupied with Catwoman.
“Stay here,” he growls at me, and I give him my most innocent smile, hoping he believes I’m going to listen.
“I’ll be right here.” Not. The second he turns his back, I slip around the corner and race for the door. I don’t make it very far before I find another couple letting it all hang out.
I shield my eyes and step into the first empty room I find. With my heart racing, I frantically think about how I’m going to get out of this. I pull out my taser and grasp it tightly in one hand while I debate who I’m going to call. If my older sisters find out what kind of trouble I’m in, they’ll never let me leave the house again.
Taking a deep breath, I go through my call list and hit the last number to call me–Slade’s number.
