Fear rippled in my blood. “Who?”
Her shrug was pure sadness, like she felt guilty answering. “I dunno. It’s just a feeling… like a ghost or something spooky. But I’m too old to believe in monsters, you know?”
I wanted to tell her that monsters don’t stop existing just because you quit believing in them. Instead I smiled fondly, kissing her on each eyelid and tucking her in. “I’ll walk with you tomorrow. But listen, no one can get you while I’m here. Monsters or otherwise.”
She had one eye on me, sleep starting to steal her away. “And you’ll always be here,” she said, yawning. “Always and forever.”
“Always and forever,” I replied.
I headed for her door, flicking off the light. Something moved the hair on the back of my neck. Thinking about Cena’s cryptic admission about feeling watched, I glanced sharply over my shoulder.
A breeze swirled through her cracked window. Had it been open all day? Shutting it, I peered out into the dark. The street below was quiet; the city didn’t allow cars to park overnight in such a nice area. Anyone living in this luxury condo kept their expensive vehicles in the lot beneath the building.
Nothing moved out there.
Get a grip, I scolded myself. My encounter outside the club was still fresh in my head. I’d been attacked; wasn’t it normal to feel some lingering paranoia? I’m safe here.
This building was a castle in the clouds. Some days, if I looked down from my step-dad’s penthouse roof, I could swear the city was invisible beneath the white haze. No one could hurt us up here… no one but the enemy already behind our gates.
Except for the maid service that came early in the morning, and the security that kept watch in the lobby, it was private. Callum paid for all of it. But even if he lived an elevator ride away, he rarely visited us. He preferred his own sort of privacy; it meant he didn’t have his eight year-old daughter cramping his style. He was free to bring woman after woman into his bed.
Honestly, I didn’t care. If he was busy with them, he was leaving me alone.
Just ten more years. Then she’ll be eighteen and we can leave together.
Turning away, I moved around Cena’s bed. My fingers lingered on the door-frame. The light from the hallway lit up her profile; her soft cheeks, her button nose.
She was innocent.
I’d do anything to keep her that way.
Chapter Three
Harper
The club was alive tonight.
Hard, violent drum beats punctuated every swing of my hips. Many of the women here called themselves exotic dancers, but I was one of the few that really danced. I could bury my voice, but I could never hide how the music flowed in my blood. I was a slave to the rhythm.
Purple lights glowed along the edge of the stage. There were two other girls up here with me, both of them lazily swinging around the pole. Customers shouted as they threw dollar bills. Strippers who knew how to work the floor scooped the excited men up, pulling them into the booths hidden in the shadows of the club.
Bending backwards, I scanned the men who waited at the tip rail around the stage. They were all ugly grins—animals who saw me as meat. Every one of them was faceless. Forgettable.
Except for him.
Jack was waiting just on the edge of my vision, the purple club lights turning his dark eyes into wild comets. He was dressed just as he’d been last night; a leather jacket, open at the front to show off his tight, moss-green shirt and how it clung to his broad chest.
The sight of him stole my breath. It was a miracle that I didn’t stumble on my heels; his slight grin made me wonder if he could tell he’d thrown me off. He approached the stage, settling into the chair with his legs spread wide. Never breaking eye contact, he slid his elbows forward and onto the tip rail. Large hands fanned out a stack of ten dollar bills in front of him.
His offer was clear… but I think, even if he hadn’t put down any cash, I’d have approached him. I was curious about this guy. He’d rescued me last night, had I made an impression? Enough of one to lure him back here?
Or was he after something else?
Gathering myself, I swayed slowly towards him. There was another pole here, just a few feet in front of Jack. Keeping my eyes locked on his, I curled my fingers around the cool metal and did a meticulous twirl. When I came back around, my ass was facing him.
Men loved that—it drove them crazy.
I wanted Jack to go insane.
Casting a look over my shoulder, I rocked my hips in a lazy circle. He rewarded me by leaning closer, still unblinking, as if he didn’t dare to miss a second of my show. His eyebrows hung low over his eyes—made them fiercer. Jack didn’t hide his simmering hunger.
I bent low; his gaze followed me. Sinking to my knees, I arched my back, turned so he had a view of me from the side. With my chest jutting out, ass on my heels, I was confident I looked good. But if I’d had any sliver of doubt, all it took was one peek at Jack’s hands on the stage.
His knuckles glowed in the black lights; pure white from crushing the tip rail. He was barely holding himself back from pulling me into his lap. That rush of power was intoxicating—it jolted in my veins, it made my blood rush until my lower lips swelled in my thong.
Then he crooked a finger at me and I forgot my routine.
Hesitating, I bit back my instant desire to crawl within reach of him. It’s okay to get close, I told myself, moving on hands and knees across the wooden boards. It’s fine to tease him with some contact… all the other girls do. They did that and much worse, honestly.
Before I knew it, I was crouched in front of him. The tip rail—a foot high expanse of flat metal to rest drinks and cash—was all that was between us. The stage was raised, and still, Jack was eye-level sitting down as he was.
He raked his gaze from my face, to my chest, then back again. His smile was subtle; it stole the strength from my legs.
The club music rolled in my ears. I blanked out—I was fixated on his fucking mouth, his thick hair, how the lights bounced off his exposed collar bone. “Hi,” I blurted.
Jack grinned slyly. “Hi? Shouldn’t it be ‘Hey, Sexy?’ or something similar?”
Breathing in, I gave a quick, relieved laugh. It was so good to have him ease the tension. “That’s bold.”
“I don’t know,” he said, crossing his arms. “With the way you were looking at me, I think it’s spot on.”
Heat swam in my skull. I was too warm, too full of mixed emotions. I didn’t know the last time I’d bantered with anyone, never mind a painfully hot man like Jack.
A waitress jumped between us, interrupting our moment and giving me a second to gather myself. “Want a drink, handsome?” she asked.