I’d lied to Sasha, I wasn’t fine. The incident with Whiskey Breath hadn’t shaken me much—he was hardly the worst encounter I’ve ever had with a customer. That kind of crap, it goes with the job, even at a classy club like Clouds. What had shaken me was seeing the Professor in the club. We hadn’t spoken all week, and the last time we had, things had been odd. I had argued vehemently with both Mom and Charlie that the Professor and I were not in a relationship. But I realized, when I saw his face in the darkness of the club, saw his beautiful features light up with anger, that maybe we kind of were. I had hoped earlier in the evening that he might show up, and yet when he did, it felt strange having him there, like I’d been caught cheating on a boyfriend. I felt titillated and embarrassed all at the same time, and from the look on his face he was pretty conflicted about it too. Granted I was being molested by a customer at the time. But still.
When I walked out of the dressing room, he was waiting for me, hands stuffed into his trousers, brow furrowed, a scarf bundled around his neck, and resting against the wall like the hero from a golden age Hollywood film.
“Hey,” I said lamely, shifting my suitcase to sit upright beside me.
“Hello,” he said in a tone so deep and heavy a single syllable felt like a paragraph.
“Um,” I stammered. “I just wonder, do you think, maybe we should talk about like, just some…like is me dancing, is that okay with you?”
“Later.”
Shit.
“Okay. Take me home?” I asked hopefully.
“Absolutely.” He took my suitcase from me and we walked down the back corridor to the parking lot.
“I’m just up the street from here,” I said. “So I can walk back in the morning and get my car easily. I just think, after tonight’s…excitement, it would be nice to have an escort home.”
“I agree,” he said over his shoulder. “Although I wouldn’t have described it as exciting.” He pushed through the exit door at the back of the club and led me around the side of the building to his car.
“Whoo hoo,” I said, running my fingers over the slick paint job. “A Jaguar!”
“It’s what I drive at home,” he said, a thin smile threading his lips. “So, I decided to lease one while here.” He hit a button on his keys and I heard the trunk of the car pop open. “I’m glad you like it.”
“I do, I can’t wait to ride in it. Even if it’s only two blocks.” I cupped my hands on the window and peered into the passenger side door. “Any trouble adapting to driving on the right side of the road?”
“It certainly required a little more concentration at first,” he said, and I heard him lifting my suitcase into the trunk at the same time that I felt a cold, calloused hand slide around my neck and squeeze.
“Looks like I’ll get to have some fun after all,” a voice slurred into my ear. The hand at my neck pushed me forward into the car window, while another hand snaked over my thigh and up my skirt.
I croaked, and tried to cry out, my hands clawing at my throat. I barely had time to wonder if the Professor had seen what was happening before I got my answer. A hulking shadow leapt at my attacker and sheered him from me in one expert movement. I stumbled back from the car and turned to find the Professor, fists and coattails flying as he wrestled my assailant into submission, pinning him against the wall of the club.
“Oh my God,” I said as Parker came flying out of the back exit of the club.
“Goddammit! I saw him on the cameras. I’m so sorry, Jane. Fucker just won’t quit!”
“It’s, it’s okay,” I stammered.
“No it’s not fucking okay. Jesus.”
The Professor hadn’t said a word. He pivoted slightly, allowing Parker access as he approached with a pair of handcuffs,
“Die, fuckers!” Whiskey Breath threw a wild punch at the Professor and flailed for freedom.
The Professor dodged to the side, hooked his palm under the man’s chin, clamped his head firmly in both hands and hauled his massive body to the ground. He flipped him over, wrenched the man’s arms behind his back and held them there.
“All yours,” he said, looking up at Parker.
“Want a job, man? That was fucking awesome.”
“Sorry.” The Professor smiled at Parker grimly. “I’m afraid I couldn’t handle all the excitement.” He glanced over at me, his expression inscrutable. “Do you have this under control?” he asked as Parker clicked the handcuffs into place.
“Yeah, I’ve got it, you two go. I’ll get my buddy to come down and take him in. If he needs you to make a statement I’ll let you know, Jane.”
“Thanks, Parker.”
“No thanks to me tonight, please. Thank this guy.” Parker gestured to the Professor. “That’s twice now you’ve been hurt on my watch, and it’s inexcusable. We need to hire some more fucking help around here.” He shook his head as he led my attacker through the exit door and back inside the club.
As soon as the door shut behind them, the Professor was on me, his hands coasting over my wrists, my arms, across my shoulders, and up my neck to hold my face. He pressed his forehead to mine, and held me there.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
He kissed me on the forehead and reached behind me to open the passenger side door. I sat down, and watched him anxiously as he shut my door and the trunk and then walked slowly around the car to the driver’s side.
He opened the door and sat down, inserted his key in the ignition and then spent several long moments staring into space. The fingers of his left hand circled his right wrist, rubbing and massaging at the dark tattooed band that was barely visible beneath the cuff of his shirt.