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“Who?” He sounds a little groggy, and I wonder if I woke him up.

My mouth takes off running before my brain kicks in. “I need help. Now. Actually, I passed needing help ten minutes ago when I decided to come to this freaking nightclub. Only it isn’t a nightclub, it's a freaking meat market, and I’m pretty sure I’m about to be sold on the black market.”

“What the fuck?” he roars over my rambling.

I hear the sound of voices approaching the door and hold my breath. When they move past, I whimper, “Please help me. I bought my dream dress today, and it gave me the courage to wander out of my comfort zone. Only this place is another universe beyond my comfort zone.” I’m too terrified to even explain where the heck I am, and surely, he hasn’t ever heard of this crazy club.

“Where the fuck are you?” he growls. “Open your maps app and send me your exact location.”

Why didn’t I think of that? It takes me two tries since I’m a little technologically incompetent. “It’s on the way.” At least, I hope it is.

“You’re at the goddamn Sterling Rope?” My ears ring as his roar pierces my eardrums. “What the fuck were you thinking?”

“I was thinking I’d call a friend to help me out of this sticky situation, but I guess I was mistaken,” I hiss-yell into the phone as terror causes me to lose my hold on my temper. “If I wanted someone to crab at me, I would’ve called my sisters.” The door opens behind me, and I realize I’m out of time. “Gotta go.” I slide the cell phone back into my pocket and prepare myself for battle. I guess I’ll have to fight the human traffickers without any assistance.

CHAPTER3

SLADE

I’m in hell.I know I am because I’m fifteen minutes from The Sterling Rope, and Skye is inside, alone, and freaking out. My temples throb as I grab my keys, shove my feet into my shoes, and jog out to my truck, not giving a shit if I’m dressed for the club or not.

What the fuck is Skye doing there?

Better question, who the fuck even told her about The Sterling Rope?

When Roman Sterling, a good friend, first suggested the idea of a BDSM club in Silver Spoon Falls, I thought he’d lost his damn mind. But I invested in the idea anyway. Billionaires have money to burn and more goddamn vices than the average motherfucker. Why not see how his idea played out?

Turns out, the club is a gold mine.

But if some asshole invited Skye, thinking they were going to get in her pants, I’m going to lose my shit. The place is a hedonist’s paradise, precisely the type of place a girl like Skye doesn’t belong. If anyone at the club gets wind that she’s a virgin, every motherfucker inside will be all over her.

I jump into my truck, revving the engine as I back out.

My pulse hammers at my throat as I pull out of the driveway, already racing toward the club and the curvy little blonde who has been running through my mind all damn day.

I dial Coby on my way.

“You realize it’s almost midnight, right?”

“Is Bronx working the club tonight?” I ask instead of answering his question. Coby’s brother, Bronx, works security at The Sterling Rope. He’s built like a brick shithouse. He played football in college. Everyone thought he would go pro, but he blew out his knee his senior year, effectively ending his career. He can keep Skye safe until I get there.

“Maybe. I can find out. Why?”

“Skye’s there,” I growl.

“Who the fuck is…? Hold up. You mean the chick from the shop today? The one who drove me fucking nuts about the tattoo she didn’t even get?”

“She was nervous,” I grit out, rolling through a stop sign coming out of my neighborhood. Luckily, at this time of night, no one else is out. “She’ll get it when she’s ready.”

“How do you know she’s at the club?”

“Does this sound like the time to play twenty fucking questions?”

“Guess not,” Coby says, unperturbed by my bad mood. Like I said, not much fazes him.

“Call Bronx. Tell him to find her and keep her with him until I get there.” I blow out a breath, my hands tight around the steering wheel. “If anyone fucking touches her, I’m burning Roman’s goddam club to the ground.”

“Don’t think that’ll be good for business, Slade,” Coby says. “Half our fucking clients are probably in that motherfucker right now.”

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