Knights Rising (Rumblin' Knights Book 1)

by Bella Jewel

  I nod. “Yeah, mental, but it was my fault mostly. He wasn’t dishonest with me, and I drove him to just become ... I don’t know, frustrated, crazy. After he left, I drank, did drugs. If it wasn’t for Lucy, my sister, I wouldn’t be sitting here, finally getting my life together. I was just a mess. A broken mess. I feel pathetic about it.”

  “Well don’t,” Charlie says, shaking her head. “Trust me, we’ve all done shit we regret. It doesn’t make you a bad person.”

  Maybe.

  But when they find out what I’ve done, will they honestly still think that?

  I don’t know that they will.

  “Thanks,” I say, wanting to change the subject, to get away from the conversation that has my chest aching and feeling so damned empty that sometimes, I want to die. Just to make it go away.

  We keep drinking and talking, and finally Ellie tells me she’ll take me home.

  I’ve avoided Lincoln after finding out he only came to get me because the girls told him to. I’m not a pity party. I don’t want a ride home with him, I’d rather go with someone else. Anyone else.

  “Leavin’?” he murmurs as I walk past him, Ellie in tow.

  “Yep,” I mutter, not making eye contact.

  “I’ll take you.”

  “No, thank you. Ellie is taking me.”

  Lincoln stands. “I said I’ll take you.”

  I spin around. “And I said ... no!”

  His jaw tightens, but Slater grabs his arm. “Let Ellie take her, bro.”

  He glares at me but sits back down.

  My heart aches, but I turn and look to Ellie, “Let’s go.”

  I say thanks and goodbye to everyone and follow Ellie out the door.

  “Shania,” she asks me as we’re getting into her car. “Are you okay?”

  I look at her.

  And for the first time, I honestly don’t know.

  I just don’t know.

  ~*~*~*~

  THEN – SHANIA

  He’s avoiding me.

  Whatever, I say.

  He can do what he wants.

  He was the one who made the little confession. He was the one who spoke. He could have kept his mouth shut, acted professional, and we’d be done with it.

  I don’t care anyway.

  Fuck. Who am I kidding? Yes I do.

  I come to work every day dressed up the best I possibly can, radiating feminine energy in hopes he’ll notice me. I flirt with other men in front of him. I laugh a lot, throwing my head back because I like the way he stares at my throat. I do all of these things, knowing it’s bothering him, knowing he wants more. And I do all these things, because I want him. I can’t think of anything else.

  I don’t want anyone else.

  Just him.

  And I’m becoming ... I don’t know ... obsessed.

  Which is silly, and I’m trying to control it, but when I’m around him, all I want to do is be with him. I fantasize about it. I dream about it. It’s become all I think about. I know it’s not healthy, but I can’t stop it. Dammit, I don’t even want to.

  I told Harper about it, I needed to vent to someone. She told me to be careful, of course, that Nicolai was basically with Yana, and it wouldn’t go down well if Yana found out. She dislikes me enough as it is, worse if she finds out that I’m interested in Nicolai. Harper makes a point, so I’ve made a point to be careful about what I’m doing. I know it’s wrong, but they’re not together, he just sleeps with her.

  That thought makes me wild with jealousy.

  I hate it.

  Despise it.

  “Shania!”

  I turn and snap out of my daydream to see Yana coming toward me, just finished up with her dance on stage. She looks gorgeous, as she always does, her slick body so much curvier than mine, more filled out, more womanly. Maybe that’s why Nicolai avoids me, because I’m not womanly enough, maybe he thinks I look too much like a girl and not enough like a woman.

  “What?” I mutter, leaning forward to complete my makeup.

  “Lucy is here, room three, wants to see you.”

  Lucy is here? She never comes to the club. Something must be wrong. I stand immediately and walk out and through the back doors into the rooms. The rooms are for private dances, those of which I refuse to do. This room is obviously not being used, so they’ve let Lucy wait in it. When I step in, I glance around. I can’t see anyone. I move further into the room, and see a man standing in it, not Lucy. She did say room three, right?

  I glance back at the door. Definitely room three.

  “Oh, sorry, I must have the wrong room,” I say, turning to walk off.

  “No, you have the right room. Stop.”

  I stop, even though my body is already telling me to move, fast. I turn back and face the man. Middle aged, quite handsome, wearing a suit, looks like he has a great deal of money to throw around this place. “I’m sorry, I’m confused. I must have the wrong room,” I say again.

  “No, you’re what I’ve paid for. The girl on stage guided me here, took the money.”

  Yana.

  That bitch.

  “Sorry, I don’t do private dances and—”

  “I paid,” he growls, stepping toward me and curling a hand around my upper arm. “And when I pay, I want delivery.”

  My heart races, and I try to jerk my arm back but he holds on too tightly. “I don’t do private dances. This is a misunderstanding, I’ll get your money back.”

  “Don’t want my money back, I want you to dance, now dance!”

  “No,” I growl, trying to jerk my arm again. “I’ll call security.”

  He laughs. “Fine. If you won’t dance, then I’ll take something else for my money. Virgin, they say? I guess we’ll find out.”

  My blood is pumping so hard I can feel it in my ears, my heart is racing, my body is on high alert. I know I need to get out of here and fast. But for a second, I’m unable to move as he grabs me closer, handling me roughly, trying to touch my body. I don’t know what to do. What do I do? I squirm again, telling him to stop, pleading with him.

  Then, I know I’m left with only one option.

  Scream.

  So I do. I take a deep breath in, and I scream so loudly that the man lets me go and steps back, shoving his hands over his ears and barking at me to shut the hell up. I scream and scream as I back toward the door, just as it opens and Eddie comes rushing in. His dark eyes move to the man, then to me, and he growls, “Get the fuck back.”

  The man steps back, putting his hands up. “Didn’t do anything wrong. Paid for this dance. Girl led me in here, told me to wait. Just expecting what I paid for.”

  Eddie looks to me. “Did you lead him in here?”

  I shake my head. “No, Yana told me my sister was in here. I came in and this man was waiting, she’d already taken his money and promised him I’d dance. When I said no, he was going to take what he wanted anyway.”

  The man glares at me, then looks to Eddie. “Yeah. That’s her. Yana. I got told she was waiting. Paid my money. Did nothin’ fucking wrong.”

  “Get out of this club, right fucking now,” Eddie growls.

  “I want a fucking refund!” the man barks. “I paid for a dance!”

  “Get out before I make you fuckin’ wish you weren’t born!” Eddie seethes. “Three seconds.”

  The man’s face goes red, he glares at me once more, and then he turns and disappears. A few minutes after he does, the door comes flying open and Nicolai steps in. His face is red and angry, and he looks to me, “What the fuck is happening?”

  “Don’t get angry at her, boss,” Eddie tells him, still looking like he wants to break something. “Yana set this up.”

  “What?” Nicolai seethes.

  “Yeah, took money from the guy, told him his dance was in this room, told Shania her sister was here to see her, and well, here the fuck we are.”

  “Fuck me,” Nicolai growls. “Fuck. Is this true?” he asks me.

  I nod, rubbing m
y hands over my arms.

  His eyes soften just a touch. “You okay?”

  I shrug, because honestly, I don’t know. That’s twice now something bad has nearly happened to me. Maybe ... maybe this job isn’t as safe as I first thought. That, or Yana is determined to have me hurt, she hates me far more than I could have even begun to realize.

  “Shania, go wait in my office. Eddie, find Yana. We’re sortin’ this out once and for all.”

  I shiver.

  This isn’t going to end well.

  I can just feel it.

  ~12~

  NOW – SHANIA

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” Ellie asks me, parking just up the road from my place. We circled around the block a few times, but all the spots are taken. Someone must be having a party, because it’s usually quiet.

  “Yeah, I’m okay,” I assure her, grabbing my things. “Thanks so much for the ride home.”

  “There are a lot of cars, are you sure it’s safe for you to walk to your apartment alone? Do you want me to walk you?”

  I smile at her. “Honey, then you have to walk back alone. So one of us is walking alone. Rather it be me. Slater would kill me if I let it be you.”

  She flushes. “He would. But still, it makes me feel worried.”

  I reach over and squeeze her shoulder. “I’m okay, honestly.”

  “Is Lucy home?” she asks me.

  “I’m not sure, she’s usually out on a Saturday night with her friends, but I’ll be okay.”

  Ellie nods, and I climb out of the car, flashing her a smile as I do. I wave and then she drives off. I start walking the couple of houses to my apartment. It isn’t far, four houses away, to be exact. As I reach the front door, I pull out my keys. Lights are out which means Lucy isn’t here, just as I figured. She is young and no doubt enjoying her carefree life. Plus, I think she’s seeing someone, even though she won’t admit that to me.

  I unlock the door and walk inside, flicking the lights on.

  And stop dead.

  Sitting at my table is the man who was watching me few weeks ago. He’s just sitting there, in the dark. How did he get in? Oh God. This is bad. I clutch my purse close, slipping my hand in for my phone.

  “Don’t do that, Flower,” the man says, his voice soft, a voice you’d trust if he wasn’t sitting in your house in the dark.

  Flower.

  What they used to call me at the strip club.

  Who is this man?

  He’s older, greying hair around the temples, but he’s fit, well built, probably forties. His eyes zone in on me as he looks over me. “You’ve changed quite a bit, but for the better, I believe.”

  I stare at him, and for some reason, he seems familiar. I didn’t get a good look at him when he was watching my place, but now that I’m up close, I could almost guarantee I’ve seen him before, I just don’t know where. It must be from the club. But how?

  I swallow, still thinking about reaching for my phone, wondering how in the hell I’m going to get away from this creep. What does he want with me? How did he get into my house? How long has he been here? Is Lucy okay? So many questions, but my body is frozen on the spot—I’m so damned scared I can’t move.

  “Who are you?” I say, my voice shaky.

  “What, you don’t remember me?”

  I stare at him, and then it clicks. I don’t know why it took so long, I guess in my fear my mind just wasn’t working. But it is all so clear now. He was the man in the club all those years ago, the one who paid but never got his dance. Is he so sick that he’d honestly hunt me down just to get what he thinks he’s entitled to?

  I blink and take a deep, shaky breath. Maybe I can talk my way out of this, because God knows he’s not going to let me call anyone, he’s not going to let me past, and nobody knows he’s here.

  “I didn’t do anything wrong back then, you know that.”

  “Of course you didn’t. But I paid for something, something I had waited so long for, something that I was entitled to. I watched you for months on that stage, all innocent, sweet, and I knew one day I’d have you. I knew it. And then I got kicked out of that club and never got to take what I wanted. Of course, it took me a while to find you, but then I ran into Yana just a few months ago and she so kindly gave me your name. And, well, I had to time it right. You’re always with someone, or your sister is home, makes it very hard for me to catch you.”

  Catch me?

  For what?

  Yana?

  No.

  “Please,” I try again, scared. I slip my hand into my purse, curling my fingers around my phone.

  “Call anyone, and I will hurt you, Shania. I don’t want to have to do that. Do as I ask and I won’t. It’s not that hard.”

  Sick.

  Oh, lord, he’s sick.

  He stands and strides over to me. I stumble backward, my back slamming into the front door. I have nowhere to go. “Don’t run from me, Shania. I only want what I’ve been dreaming about. I want to watch you dance, I want to make love to you, I want to make you mine. I want what I paid for.”

  I’m going to vomit. I am.

  “I’m not that person anymore, I’m not innocent anymore, you don’t want to do this. I’m not like I was back then. I’ve changed, been with men, loads of men ...”

  That’s a lie.

  I haven’t.

  But still. I’ll just about say anything right now.

  He chuckles, and his fingers stretch out and glide down my cheek, “That doesn’t matter to me. When you’ve waited so long for something, you can skip over a few of the bumps. I just want what I’ve been dreaming about. And age has only made you more beautiful. So, we can either do this the hard way or the easy way.”

  This is bad.

  This is so bad.

  I try to move, but his hand slams down on my shoulder, smashing me hard against the door. “I’d rather not hurt you, Shania. So please, do as I’m asking.”

  “I don’t know what you’re asking,” I say, my voice small and scared.

  “Firstly” —he lets me go but stays close— “dance for me.”

  God.

  This is not good.

  He’s going to rape me, or worse.

  All over some stupid obsession. And Yana, god damn her, if I ever see her again, I’m going to make her wish she never messed with me. My hatred for her is deep, and I’ll make sure one day she gets what’s coming to her. I vow it. Right here and now.

  “Please,” I try again.

  He leans in and inhales near my ear. I feel sick, but I’m not going to stand here and let him do whatever he wants. If he wants to hurt me, fine, but I’m not going to just roll over and take it. While he’s distracted sniffing me like a fucking creep, I raise my knee. I don’t hit him exactly where I want to, but it’s enough that he stumbles backward with a startled grunt. Then I stomp on his foot, causing him to yowl.

  I run past him, still clutching my purse. I dart toward my bedroom, pulling out my phone and very frantically trying to get Lincoln’s number up on my screen. He reaches me before I can dial, curling my hair in his hands and jerking me backward so hard my neck strains and the pain causes me to scream. I squirm and kick as he drags me back down the hall.

  “You want to do it the hard way, so be it.”

  He throws me onto the sofa and when I go to launch up, his fist connects with my eye, sending me spiraling back down, my world spinning, pain shooting through my head, blood pouring down my cheek. Oh, god. This is going to happen. It’s actually going to happen. I kick and scream and claw as he tries to rip my clothes off. My mind is spinning, ears ringing, and he keeps slapping me, or shoving me, anything to keep me on the sofa.

  And then, he’s gone.

  For a second, I’m confused, unsure what’s happening, and then I see Lincoln standing there, holding him by the shirt as if he weighs nothing. He raises his big fist and drives it into the man’s face. A loud crack echoes throughout the room, followed by a pained bellow. Anothe
r punch knocks the man unconscious. Lincoln drops him to the floor, like he’s nothing more than a rag doll, and his eyes go to me.

  And they’re concerned.

  They’re scared.

  They’re worried.

  It’s the first time I’ve ever seen any sort of emotion in Lincoln’s eyes. He strides toward me, the intensity coming off him so powerful I can do nothing but stare. He kneels down to where I’m sprawled out on the sofa, and his thumb goes to the blood trickling down my cheek from my eye—he swipes some of it off. “Did he hurt you, Shania?”

  He’s not asking if he hurt me physically, because he can clearly see he did.

  He’s asking if he hurt me sexually.

  “No,” I whisper.

  I can nearly hear the relief explode out of him. He touches my face again, and it feels really nice in this time where I’m terrified out of my mind. “How badly are you hurt?”

  “He hit me, jarred my neck when he pulled me down the hall by my hair, but otherwise, I’m okay.”

  Lincoln’s face is murderous, but he nods, and says, “Going to call Slater, get some help sorting him out. Sit tight. I’ll be right back.”

  “Lincoln?” I ask, as he’s pulling out his phone.

  He looks to me. “Yeah?”

  “How come you’re here?”

  He exhales, and holds my eyes. “Because, I didn’t like how you left. Glad I decided to follow my gut and come over, if I hadn’t—”

  “Yeah,” I say, cutting him off. “I know ...”

  He nods and keeps making the phone call to Slater. When he’s finished, he hangs up and goes into my kitchen, returning a moment later with a warm, wet washcloth. He sits beside me and wipes the blood off my face, holding my eyes the whole time. And something inside of me changes, right there, in that very second, it just changes. My stomach flutters, and my heart expands. I see Lincoln in a whole different light.

  He’s tending to me, being gentle and kind.

  And he came after me when I left tonight. He came after me.

  Oh, god. Do I have feelings for Lincoln?

  I look away from his gaze and tip my head from side to side. My neck is in agony.

  “I’m goin’ to run you a bath, you’re goin’ to lay in it, and then I’ll rub that out.”