by Nikki Ash
“Nevaeh,” a high-pitched voice says, cutting me off.
Nevaeh stiffens and turns around. “Mom.”
I raise my eyes to the top of the steps to find a woman, who looks like an older version of Nevaeh, standing there. For some reason, she looks eerily familiar, but there’s no way I would know her…
I assess her for a moment and notice that while they have similar features, they’re clearly different. They have the same colored eyes, but her mom’s are harder, colder, filled with judgment. Nevaeh only ever looks at people with kindness and compassion. They share the same color hair, but her mom’s is tamed straight, while Nevaeh’s is wild. Her mom’s dress covers almost her entire body, while Nevaeh’s shows off her gorgeous curves.
I can’t shake the feeling I’ve seen this woman before, somehow, which is crazy. There’s no way we run in the same circles. I push the thought aside. I’m being ridiculous. She just reminds me of Nevaeh.
“What are you wearing?” her mom accuses, stepping closer. “And who is this?”
Her mom’s only spoken a few words and I already know why Nevaeh is the way she is. Why she is dying to break free and find herself—find what’s real.
Nevaeh shrinks into me, but when I squeeze her hand, reminding her I’m here and have her back, she takes a deep breath, almost as if gathering her strength.
“I’m wearing a dress, and this is Ethan, my…”
“I’m her boyfriend,” I say, finishing her sentence for her.
Her mom’s eyes bug out as she assesses me with renewed purpose. My lips tip into a smirk as I imagine what she’s thinking. I’m dressed in an expensive suit, but I went without a tie, leaving the top two buttons undone. She can see the tattoos peeking out.
“This is not the time or place,” her mother says, her back straightening and her tone turning icy.
“You’re right,” Nevaeh says, squeezing my hand. “Today is Stephen’s funeral. I’ll formally introduce you to him another day.”
She walks up the steps, and I follow, past her mother and into the church. When we enter, the place is filled with people. It’s warm from all the bodies, and I consider shrugging out of my jacket before I sweat to death.
Nevaeh must have the same idea, because she releases my hand and removes her sweater, draping it over her arm.
“Nevaeh,” a woman says, then sprints toward her. When she reaches us, she pulls Nevaeh into a hug. “Thank God you’re okay. I’ve been so worried about you.”
“You spoke to me yesterday,” Nevaeh says as she steps back.
“I know, but it’s not the same. You’ve never just up and left.”
“I’m sorry,” Nevaeh says softly. I can tell she wants to give her more, but she can’t. It would mean explaining the truth about her brother.
“And who’s this?” the woman asks, raking her gaze down me.
“This is Ethan.” Nevaeh smiles sweetly. “My boyfriend. Ethan, this is my best friend, Blaire.”
Blaire’s eyes go wide and she chokes out a cough. “I knew someone was with you,” she scolds her friend. “You’ve never once mentioned him.” Her eyes squint in confusion, then turn to hurt.
“I know, I’m sorry,” Nevaeh says. “I promise I’ll explain everything soon. I just—”
“Oh. My. God. Is that…” Her friend grabs Nevaeh’s shoulder and pulls the strap down a little so she can see the entire tattoo. “This is so hot! I can’t believe you got a tattoo without me!”
“Blaire,” Nevaeh hisses. “Not now.” She pulls her strap back up and quickly puts her sweater back on.
Blaire grins wide. “Fine, but soon.” She glances over at me and winks, and I chuckle under my breath, glad to have someone on my side.
We walk down the aisle toward the front, and Nevaeh gets stopped by several people along the way—either giving their condolences or asking where she’s been and if she’s okay.
When we reach the front, Nevaeh gives an older gentleman a hug and then introduces him to me as her father. Unlike her mother, his eyes are soft and sincere. He’s sad and mourning for the loss of his son. He doesn’t question Nevaeh, but he does ask if she’s okay. When she tells him she is, he tells her he loves her.
We sit in the front row—I remind her it’s only for family, but she argues she doesn’t care and I’m not going anywhere. Her mother joins us, and after glaring our way, sits next to her husband. The service is a typical Catholic service, and when it ends, everyone moves outside for the burial. I hold Nevaeh the entire time, surveying our surroundings to make sure Logan doesn’t show up. I’ve yet to find out what this Felix guy looks like—my dad is asking around—so I’m on high alert, assessing everyone around us.
“Are you back for good?” Blaire asks when the service is over.
“No, I’m just here for the funeral. Ethan and I are going to stay a little longer at the beach house.”
“What?” Nevaeh’s mom, Susan, screeches. “You’re shacking up with this man? Is this why you quit your job and took off?”
“Actually, Mother…” Nevaeh spits. “I took off because I found out from Stephen some things about you.”
Susan’s spine straightens.
“And unless you want to have this conversation right here in front of everyone, I suggest you stop talking.”
“Nevaeh, what has gotten into you?” Susan fumes.
“You!” Nevaeh hisses. “Your lies.” She steps closer to her mother, but then she stops in her place. Her head drops down slightly and I rush around her, concerned. Her eyes are shut tightly and her face is contorted in pain.
“Angel, what’s wrong?” I pull her into my arms. “Baby…”
“My head,” she chokes out. “I… I have a bad headache.”
“She gets them sometimes,” Blaire explains.
“Can we go, please?” Nevaeh pleads, meeting my eyes with her tear-filled ones.
“Of course.” I wrap my arms around her, and without saying goodbye to anyone, walk us out to my car. I vaguely hear her mother bitching behind us, but my only focus is on Nevaeh and getting her home to rest.
She falls asleep on the way home and doesn’t wake up once—not when I carry her up to her room and lay her in my bed, or when I remove her heels and pull the blanket up to cover her.
While she sleeps, I begin my search on Felix, putting feelers out to all of the major players, requesting meetings with my contacts. Someone has to know who he is and where he can be found. I don’t care what it takes, I’m going to find this asshole and shut him down—permanently. As much as I love Nevaeh being holed up in this house with me, I would prefer her to be with me of her own free will, and not because her staying alive depends on it.
Nevaeh
“Morning, beautiful,” Ethan says as I sit up and take in my surroundings. The last thing I remember is getting a headache and then falling asleep in his car.
“Hey,” I croak out, my voice gravelly from sleep. “What time is it?”
“Nine o’clock.” He closes his laptop and places it on the windowsill before standing and walking over to me.
“In the morning?” I glance out the window and it’s pitch-black.
“No, at night. You slept the afternoon away. How are you feeling?”
“Okay,” I tell him truthfully. The headache is gone, and I’m glad the funeral is over and we were able to get a bit of closure—even if the lie about how he died is all anybody will ever know.
“I hate to do this to you, but I need to go to the club tonight. I’ve recently had some issues with drugs and have done a complete overhaul with employment. I need to make my presence known so they know who is in charge.” He runs the backs of his knuckles down my cheek, and I close my eyes, relishing in his touch.
“Can I go with you?” I ask, not wanting to be alone. “I could hang out in your office or whatever. And Rosco could stay with me so I’m safe.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
“Why?” I sit up and pout. “Why do yo
u get to leave and I have to stay?” I’ve never been one to be so defiant, but the more I’m away from my mom and the church, the more I’m finding I kept my mouth shut too often, not saying everything I wanted to say.
“For one, it’s my business, and two…” He sighs. “My club isn’t the safest place for you.”
“It’s Tuesday,” I point out. “The fights are only on the weekends.” I cross my arms over my chest, and Ethan’s lips curl into a sexy smirk.
“Fine, but you’re staying in the office.”
“Yes!” I jump out of bed and raise my hand above my head in a fist pump. Ethan shocks me when he leans over and smacks my butt. “Hey!”
“Get dressed,” he commands, his tone filled with playfulness, as he walks out of the room. “I’m leaving in twenty minutes with or without you.”
After brushing my teeth and attempting to tame my curls, I apply some mascara to my lashes, a bit of eyeliner under my eyes, and dab on some lip gloss to make my lips appear shiny. Then I throw on a pair of black skinny jeans, a red V-neck sweater, and finish my outfit off with a pair of black high-heeled boots. Even though I’m only going to be sitting in the office, I’ve seen all the hot women at that club, and I’m not stepping in there without looking at least somewhat presentable.
Ethan is waiting for me by the door, dressed in his usual sexy I own the world suit. Tonight, it’s charcoal gray, with a black shirt, black shoes, and a checkered black and gray tie.
“Why the frown?” he asks, taking my hand in his and walking us out the door. Rosco is already waiting outside by his own vehicle to follow us to the club.
“You always look so”—I wave my hand toward him—“put together. While I look so”—I wave my hand toward myself—“not.”
“You look sexy as fuck,” he says, sliding his hands around my backside. He squeezes my butt cheeks and kisses me. His tongue slips into my mouth and I moan in appreciation. I love kissing Ethan. He always tastes so good. My fingers push through his styled hair, undoubtedly messing it up, so I can pull him closer. My front rubs against his own, and his hard-on pushes through his pants.
All too soon, Ethan ends the kiss and chuckles under his breath. “Let’s go before my resolve snaps.”
“I’m okay with that.” I bat my lashes flirtatiously, and he shakes his head.
“I take it back…you’re not an angel. You’re the damn devil.”
While Ethan drives, Blaire and I text back and forth. She’s worried about me and wants to know when she’ll see me again. Which gives me an idea…
“Can I invite Blaire and her boyfriend to the club?”
Ethan glances over at me and scowls. “You said you would stay in the office.”
“Please.”
He sighs, and I know I have him. I’m quickly learning Ethan is all bark and no bite—at least with me.
“I have actual business to do, so Rosco will be with you. You are not to leave his side, not even to go to the bathroom. Kenny knows not to let Logan in, but we haven’t gotten a face for Felix yet.”
I swallow thickly. Sometimes I forget why I’m here with Ethan—because Logan sold me to a man who buys women to turn into sex slaves.
“I’ll stay with him, I promise.”
I send a text to Blaire, telling her we’ll be at The Warehouse if she and Victor want to come by for a drink. She immediately responds that she can’t wait to see me and they’re on their way.
When we arrive at his club, we pull up to the front, and the valet takes the car. Before we step inside, I look around and notice The Warehouse isn’t the only place around. There are several other businesses on both sides of the club.
“Is that a strip club?” I ask, pointing to the bright neon sign that reads Assets. There’s a line to get in, but most are men.
“Yeah, a friend of mine owns it. It just opened recently. Why? You want to go?” Ethan waggles his brows.
“I almost added strip club to my list,” I admit.
“Why didn’t you?”
“I don’t know.” I shrug. “I guess I never imagined a time when I would actually be able to go.”
“So, you only added items to your list you knew you would be able to do?”
“Yeah, I didn’t want to set myself up for failure.”
“Let me see your list.” Ethan extends his hand. Usually I keep it tucked away in a drawer, but lately I’ve been checking off so many items, I’ve been bringing it with me. And since Ethan gave me my original one back, I threw away the new one I made, adding the couple new items to the bottom of the list.
I pull it out of my back pocket and hand it to him. He reaches into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulls out a pen and then scribbles Go to a strip club on the bottom.
“There.” He hands me back the list. “Now it’s on there.”
“Nevaeh!” I turn around to find Blaire and Victor walking over to us. She’s dressed in a sexy tight black dress with tall black heels. Her hair is pin straight down her back. She looks gorgeous, especially for being invited last minute.
“I’m so glad you invited us,” Blaire says, pulling me into a hug. “I’ve seriously missed you so much. I know I saw you at the funeral today, but that’s obviously not the same thing.”
“I’ve missed you too,” I tell her, hugging her back.
When we pull apart, Blaire’s biting on her lower lip, her telltale that there’s something she needs to tell me.
“What’s wrong?”
“Well…” She glances back at Victor, who has introduced himself to Ethan. He wasn’t at the funeral today because he had to work and couldn’t get off last minute.
“Tell me,” I push.
“Victor asked me to marry him.” She holds out her hand, and on her ring finger is a beautiful diamond ring.
“Oh my God! Blaire!” I give her another hug. “Congratulations! Why didn’t you tell me earlier today?”
“We were at your brother’s funeral. It was hardly the right time.”
“True,” I agree. “Still. I’m so happy for you.”
“He also asked me to move in with him,” Blaire admits, and now her nervousness makes sense.
“Oh, well, of course he did. You can’t be married and live apart.” I laugh, but Blaire doesn’t.
“You can stay living in the condo however long you want,” she says.
“No, you should sell it. I can find somewhere else to live.” Once I’m no longer on a sex trafficker’s list to kidnap and sell and I find a new job… Which will mean I’ll no longer be living with Ethan. Will we still date?
My eyes meet his, and he smiles warmly my way. When I don’t smile back, his lips turn down into a concerned frown.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, stepping over to me.
“Nothing. Blaire was just telling me she’s engaged and is moving in with Victor.” I make sure my voice is upbeat.
“Congratulations,” Ethan says to her. “Looks like a celebration is in order.”
“We should go to Assets,” I blurt out.
“The strip club?” Blaire asks, confused.
“I added it to my list.” Technically Ethan did, but semantics…
“I’m down,” Blaire says, looking at Victor.
“I’m a man… I’m always down,” Victor says with a laugh, causing Blaire to glare at him playfully.
“Ethan?” I ask.
He groans, but when a half-smile appears, I know he’s going to say yes. “Come into the club and have a drink. Let me handle some business and give the owner a call to let him know we’re going, and then we’ll go over there in a little while.”
“Yay!” I squeal, throwing my arms around him. “Thank you!”
After getting us drinks and demanding I stay put at the table he’s reserved for us, Ethan gives me a kiss and then leaves.
As I’m taking a sip of my fruity drink, I notice Blaire is looking at me weird. “What?”
“Nothing,” she says, shaking her head. “You’ve just… you’ve c
hanged… for the better. You’re different with him.”
My face and cheeks heat up as I think about how different things are with him, and I’m thankful the club is dark and Blaire can’t see… until she gasps and says, “Oh my God! You’ve had sex with him!”
“What?” I sputter. “No!”
“Then you’ve come close. I can see it in your eyes. Don’t you lie to me.” She lifts my hand. “Where’s your ring? The one that symbolizes your promise not to have sex before marriage.” I took it off the night I made the decision to separate myself from my mother and the church.
“Blaire!” I yank my hand back, not wanting to have this conversation in front of Victor and Rosco.
“I’m not going to drop this until you tell me.”
“Fine.” I lean in so only she can hear me over the loud music. “We’ve done… stuff.”
“I knew it! We need to have a girls’ day soon so you can tell me everything.”
That actually sounds really good. Sure, Rosco would have to go, but I could probably get Ethan to have him stand a few feet away so Blaire and I could talk in private… or she could come to the beach house where it’s safe. We could do a pool day.
“Let’s plan it,” I agree.
“Plan what?” Ethan asks, planting a kiss on my cheek.
“A girls’ day. I was thinking Blaire could come over to the beach house and we could go swimming… If that’s okay,” I say, backtracking. I should’ve asked him first, or maybe I should ask his dad. It is actually his house after all.
“Of course it’s okay,” Ethan says. “Any of your friends are welcome over any time. You don’t have to ask.”
Blaire smiles. “I would love to come over and hang out.”
She takes a sip of her drink, looking from Ethan to me as if we’re a puzzle that needs to be solved. “How long are you planning on staying there? You sound like you two are living together.”
“My dad and mom recently returned from vacation and we’re staying there to spend time with them,” Ethan says, saving me since I had no clue how to answer her. “We’re only going to be there for a few more weeks, though. My parents are planning a trip to Vegas in about a month or so.”