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Liam knows who my family is. Why I’m here.
He’s sticking his neck out by helping me, and that’s something I appreciate. I know that having me dance for his clients will make him money, but he didn’t have to hire me. Could just as easily told me to leave.
He doesn’t have to offer me a way out. A possibility with hope.
This mansion whose walls hide secrets is exactly where my father and brother wouldn’t be. I heard them one night saying as much, talking down the members and owner, making plans to out someone important.
They made the place out to be morbid and disgusting, while I find this a sanctuary.
Quick money. A way out from under my family’s thumb.
My brother wants more than he should. Becomes braver with each night that passes, while my father sees me as a way out of his mounting debt.
They spend faster than either can produce and demand that I help maintain their lifestyle one way or another. I don’t want to be a part of either of their schemes, much less what they are planning at the moment…
They want a war. Money. Power.
I need to be far away when that happens. They want to become what they will never be, and I refuse to become the casualty of their greed.
“So?” Stacy, Liam’s assistant and a performer here, asks. She’s by the small kitchenette preparing coffee, and she’s not doing it right. There’s splattering everywhere. “How did it go? Was he rude?”
“Not at all,” I answer truthfully, walking toward her and shoving the cup deeper under the machine’s percolator. No more splashing coffee.
“Thanks.” Stacy gives me a sheepish grin. “I’m not exactly the Susie Homemaker type.”
“Do you want to be?”
“That’s weird, though.” She waves a hand in the air, ignoring my question. But I see it in her eyes. Stacy wants to be, just in her own way. “All the girls complain he’s a giant asshole. That he never let any of them physically near him. You dance, but don’t touch.”
That’s the last thing I want to think about—someone else performing for him—but then the last part hits me. I did touch him. He initiated our contact.
Closing my eyes for a second, I relive the last hour and a half of my life. How reluctant he was to let me go.
Why am I different? Not that I say this aloud. Never. I’m new here and know how easily people can turn on each other. How someone can destroy who you are just because.
Instead, I find myself shrugging, opening the small fridge beside us to pull out a bottle of water. “Seriously, no complaints. He made me feel sexy, not stupid. I thought for sure I’d fall on my face and cry.”
“Girl, that happened to me once. It’s how I met Liam!” Her laughter makes me grin, the earlier tension dropping as we both fall into giggles. That fog he put me under starts receding and each breath I take is easier than the last. I can still feel his touch. His warmth.
“For real?” I ask, trying to act nonchalant, hoping she doesn’t realize the sudden high pitch in my voice.
“Swear on my favorite pair of Manolos.”
“That’s one hell of a story to—”
“Take it from me, kid. Learn from my mistakes.” Her mood change is instant. From happy to almost heartbroken. As if her uppers are making her crash. “Don’t get attached. These men won’t give you a fairy-tale ending.”
Grabbing the now full cup, she places it on a tray with a sugar bowl and creamer. Not another word is said as Stacy walks out, leaving me in a state of confusion.
Why would she say that?
I’m not here looking for a man. I’m looking for an escape.
Besides, even if I did find him attractive, Malcolm has heartbreak written all over him.
“You’re home early,” I hear the moment I step in my father’s house. Not that this surprises me, but it’s wishful thinking that being early tonight would give me enough time to escape. To slip inside my room undetected.
It didn’t.
