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I shrug. “Well, people can surprise you.”
At that, he smirks. “Yes, they can.”
Chapter 12
On Wednesday, I get a text from the manager of the club asking if I can take up a shift that night, and after the payouts I’ve been receiving on Fridays and Saturdays, I jump at the extra income. I shoot off a text telling her I’ll be there at seven.
I manage to squeeze in a quick dinner and shower after work before heading off to the gentlemen’s club. The shift is uneventful—thankfully. No sign of Asher or anyone I know, thank God. I still burn with embarrassment at the thought of it. How he’d stared at me in surprise, how his gaze had lingered across my body. And then his face when we’d spoken at work on Monday.
I try to shrug off the discomfort and continue unbothered. It doesn’t matter. Just a few more months of this, and I’ll be able to afford my parents’ home. Everything will be right with the world. I just have to survive this awkward, awkward time.
Other than the handful of leering gazes and creepy comments that I’ve come to expect, the shift goes by without a hitch, and I find myself in the locker room at the end of the night changing into my clothes. But as I reach for my purse at the back of the locker, I notice something on the shelf in front of it. Frowning, I pick it up.
A folded-up piece of paper. I unfold it.
I wish you were mine.
I stare down at the note, my eyebrows furrowing. I’d forgotten about the note I’d found in my locker last weekend. It had completely slipped my mine until now. I glance around the rest of the locker, searching for more—confirmation that these notes are old and leftover from some previous locker owner. But after a thorough search, I find nothing.
Just the one note I’m holding. A knot forms in my stomach. Who would leave this here? I glance around uncertainly. Most of the other waitresses have left by now, there are just a few other women on the other side of the room, and they’re packing up their things and leaving.
I shove the note into my pocket, sling my purse over my shoulder, and head out. I’m tired, it’s past midnight, and I have to be up early for work in the morning. Now is not the time to be deciphering cryptic notes.
I push open the back door of the club and step out into the crisp evening air. The parking lot out back is almost empty. Just my car and one other. The lighting isn’t great, so I quicken my pace across the parking lot.
I reach into my bag, searching for my keys. I grasp around the bottom, unable to find them. I huff in annoyance, stopping to peer inside. I finally find them, pulling them free.
Just then, a flash of something large and dark rings in my peripheral vision. I turn, but there’s nothing there. Turning back toward my car, I take a step forward, but not before strong arms wrap themselves around me, lifting me from the ground.
I scream, immediately kicking my legs and thrashing around, but whoever has a hold on me is strong, and they deftly carry me swiftly across the parking lot toward a car in the corner.
Terrified, I jab an elbow backward into their stomach, and with a groan, their grip on me loosens. I scramble forward, but my attacker grabs my wrist and yanks me roughly backward, enough that I fall, completely losing my balance. I don’t have time to brace myself against the pavement, and my cheek slams into the rough asphalt.
I look up to see a man with a ski mask over his face. He’s wearing dark clothing, and he’s tall. He reaches for me again, and I try to roll out of the way. He yanks me back up to my feet, but before he can immobilize me again, I deliver a swift kick to his crotch—hard.
He cries out and doubles over, his grip on me forgotten.
I race toward my car, fumbling with my keys as I go. I manage to unlock it, get in, and lock my doors again all before he’s even straightening up. But I don’t wait around to see what he’ll do next.
I put the car in drive and tear out of the parking lot faster than I’ve ever driven in my life.
Chapter 13
I stare at myself in the mirror the next morning, still utterly dumfounded from the events of last night. Someone had tried to … kidnap me? In the parking lot of the club? I still can’t fully comprehend it. On my drive home, I’d been shaking uncontrollably, scared that somehow he was able to follow me. I’d only let myself relax once I was safe inside my apartment with the door locked.
My mind wanders to the strange notes I’d found in my locker. Are they all from the same person? The man who’d attacked me last night? It feels so unreal. Like something that doesn’t happen in real life.
I survey my appearance. Overnight, my cheekbone has turned a deep purple. Probably from where I’d fallen on the pavement. It’s tender to the touch, and I wince as I apply a heavy dose of makeup, trying to cover up what I can.
I take a deep breath, grabbing my travel mug of coffee and my purse and heading for the door. I find myself acting paranoid as I dash to my car, instantly locking it once I get inside.
I drive to work quickly and head in, feeling safer once I’m inside the large, downtown skyscraper filled with people. Ben looks up when I take a seat at my desk, and his brows furrow.
“Rough night?” he asks.
I sigh. “You could say that.”
Seeing that I’m not volunteering anything more, he simply nods and goes back to work. I try to focus on the various tasks at hand and ignore the flashes of last night that keep replaying in my head. Around midmorning, I make myself a second cup of coffee in the breakroom, hoping it will help me focus.
