by Lauren Rowe
I dial Josh on my phone. He picks up right away.
“Hey, how was Belize?”
“Josh, you gotta come to Seattle. Right now. We’ve got a situation.”
“Something with the deal?”
“No, something else. It’s an emergency.”
“Are you okay? Is Sarah okay?”
“Yeah, I’m okay. The trip was incredible—Sarah’s incredible. She’s with me right now. It’s The Club. It’s total bullshit, Josh. A fucking scam. I’ll tell you everything when you get here.” I lower my voice and cup my hand to my phone so Sarah won’t hear the next thing I say. “I think Sarah’s in danger. Like, maybe serious danger.”
He pauses briefly. “I’ll be able to catch the last flight out if I hightail it to LAX right now. If not, I’ll charter something. I’ll see you soon.”
“Hey, and tell your hacker buddy to clear his calendar. I’ve got a big job for him starting immediately.”
“Will do. See you soon.”
We hang up.
Sarah’s winding up her phone call with Kat.
“Just get out of there,” she says. “We’ll pick you up in fifteen minutes. I love you, too.”
She hangs up and wipes her eyes. “Her place was ransacked while she was at work. Same as mine—completely trashed. And they took her computer, too.” Her voice catches in her throat. “What have I gotten her mixed up in?”
I pull her toward me, but she’s too amped up to be comforted.
“The police just left her place. They think it was a burglary—because that’s all she thought it was. But now that she knows about my place, she’s scared to death.”
“You told her we’re coming to get her?”
She nods. “She’s meeting us at the gas station down the street from her place in fifteen minutes.”
“Josh is on his way, too. He’ll be at my house later tonight.” I kiss the back of her hand. “I don’t want you going back there, you understand?”
She nods.
“Ever again. You’re staying with me now.” I pause. “Indefinitely.”
She nods again. No fight at all. I’m surprised. And relieved. And secretly thrilled, even in the midst of my acute agitation. She’s really going to be mine now. Every day and every night. Well, damn, I guess there’s a silver lining in everything, no matter how horrible.
“Is there anything you need from your apartment? I’ll go back later with Josh and get it.”
“Some clothes, maybe.”
“I’ll buy you new clothes.”
She doesn’t fight me on that, either. Wow, she must really be freaking out.
“My text books,” she says.
“Okay. I’ll get them.” If they’re missing or destroyed, I’ll buy her new ones.
She sighs. “The only other things I care about are on my laptop.” Her voice quavers.
“This is my fault,” I say, my stomach somersaulting. “You wanted to take your computer to Belize, and I wouldn’t let you.” A familiar darkness is welling up inside me. “If it wasn’t for me, they wouldn’t have your laptop right now.” And they wouldn’t have been able to identify Kat—or at least not so quickly. Goddammit. Sarah’s been mine all of three days and I’ve already put her and her best friend in danger and probably put a target on my own back, too. Why did I make her leave her laptop behind? And why the hell did I ever fuck Stacy? I knew I was making a massive mistake when I did it—I knew it—and I did it anyway. But Stacy’s a red herring. The real question is why I applied to The Club in the first place? Was I following my father’s path to hell? Was I having another nervous breakdown?
I run my hand through my hair.
Unwanted images are invading my brain—flashes, snapshots, incomplete impressions—all of them unbidden and savage. Blood streaming out of her nose. Her hand grasping and flailing at the rope around her wrist. His hairy ass. The gleam of the knife.
I close my eyes.
I see her glancing frantically over at the closet, pleading with me to stay put. I see the look of fear in her eyes. I see the look of desperation. But for the first time ever, for the first time in twenty-three years, it’s not her blue eyes pleading with me—it’s Sarah’s big, brown eyes.
My stomach lurches violently. I rub at my eyes, trying to erase the pictures in my head. I’m going to protect her this time. Or die trying. I’m not going to fail her this time. I’m not going to let him hurt her again. I’ll kill him if I have to—with my bare hands if I have to, before I let him hurt her.
“No,” Sarah says sternly. “Jonas, no.” She grabs my arm and shakes it. “Jonas, look at me.” Her voice is surprisingly forceful. She tugs on my arm.
I comply.
“This is not your fault. Don’t say that—don’t even think it.”
I exhale.
She squeezes my hand. “We’re in this together,” she says. “Okay? I need you to keep focused. There’s no blame here. There’s only what we’re gonna do about it. No more fucking around. That means both of us.”
She’s right. What the hell am I doing? This is not the time to give free reign to my demons. I feel like punching myself in the face I’m acting like such a pussy. Right now is about one thing—protecting my baby. At all costs. There’s no time to waste thinking about anything else.
Okay, my head is back in the game.
“Was everything backed up on your laptop?” I ask.
She cringes. “No, none of it.” She’s thinking. “But I shared all my course outlines with my study group just the other day, so I can get those. Oh my God, thank God I did that. Nothing else matters right now except those study outlines. Oh, and my photos—but my mom and Kat have the ones that matter.” She sighs. “Crap. I can’t believe this is happening.”
I look out the window of the limo, watching parked cars whiz by.
Nobody hurts my baby. Nobody even threatens to hurt my baby.
I was willing to kiss my money goodbye in karmic exchange for finding my Sarah. I was willing to let bygones be bygones, to chalk it all up to me getting the comeuppance I deserve in the grand scheme of things. Damn, I was willing to walk away and never look back and let those bastards keep shilling their global brothel with no one the wiser. Maybe all the guys joining The Club subconsciously (or even consciously?) know what they’re really getting, for all I know. Or if not, maybe they don’t want to know. Who am I to make that decision for all of them, I figured? But, oh no, hell no, all bets are off now. Those bastards fucked with my woman—the woman I love, goddammit—and now they’re going down.
I look over at Sarah, at her elegant profile. She’s pursing that beautiful mouth of hers, deep in thought. She senses me looking at her and turns her gaze on me. Her cheeks are stained with dried tears, but she’s strong now. She’s ready for a fight.
“I’m gonna protect you,” I say.
“I know you are,” she says.
“I’d never let anything happen to you,” I clarify, just in case she doesn’t fully understand.
One corner of her mouth tilts up. She nods. She knows.
“I need you, Sarah,” I say, my heart pounding.
“I need you, too,” she says softly, a lovely grin unfurling across her face.
But that’s not what I meant to say just then, not at all. I mean I do need her, of course, yes, that’s clear to me now. I need her. I want her. I can’t get enough of her. But I meant to say something else. Something else entirely. I shift in my seat.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I whisper.
Her smile widens. Her eyes crinkle. She’s not going anywhere, either.
But that wasn’t what I wanted to say, either. I exhale.
I look out the window again. She leans against my shoulder, apparently content. She doesn’t need me to say anything more. She knows.
But, no, there’s still more to say.
I take a deep breath. “Madness,” I whisper in her ear.
She nods. “Madness,” she repeats back to me. She squeezes
my hand. Yes, she understands. She always understands. Love is a serious mental disease. Yeah, she knows. There’s nothing more I need to say. I’ve already told her a thousand different ways.
You’re everything I never knew I always wanted. That’s the quote I selected for my Valentine’s card to her—and I really thought I meant it when I chose it for her. But, damn, I didn’t even know her back then—I only knew who I hoped she’d be. So that time doesn’t count. But, wait, when she called me a poet in the cave, I said, “At the touch of love everyone becomes a poet.” How much clearer could I have been? That was pretty damned clear. And then, of course, I told her the biggie, “Love is a serious mental disease.” And I played the Muse song for her, too. I exhale. Yeah, I’ve definitely told her. There’s nothing more I need to say.
I’ve said enough. More than enough.
I gaze out the window again, my fingers woven into hers.
She shifts her head on my shoulder and sighs.
Fuck.
I haven’t said enough.
Fuck.
I don’t want to speak in riddles anymore. I don’t want to quote Plato or fucking Matthew Perry to tell her how I feel. I want to tell her in my own words, as clearly and as simply as a man can say it.
“Sarah.”
She looks up at me.
But the words don’t come out of my mouth. I’m tongue-tied.
My heart is racing.
I’ve never uttered those three little words to a woman before, except to my mother—never even been tempted—but I want to say them now. I want to say them to my Sarah.
I look into her eyes.
My Magnificent Sarah. I’d die before I let anything happen to her. Or kill.
I don’t want anyone else.
I love her. I do. I love her.
I love Sarah Cruz.
I need to tell her. I know I do. Right now. She deserves to hear those exact words, especially now.
My heart pounds in my ears.
I look into her big, brown eyes.
She’s looking at me with a kind of unadulterated adoration, an unconditional acceptance I didn’t even know existed in the world, at least not for someone like me. The look on her face makes me want to throw myself at her feet.
There’s a long beat as I struggle to form the words on the tip of my tongue. I want to tell her, I do, but we’re racing to pick up Kat. I don’t want to share this moment with Kat. I want to say those words for the very first time when it’s going to be just Sarah and me, when I can say them to her and show her how much I love her at the same time.
My chest heaves.
She squeezes my hand and smiles at me. Her eyes are warm. Kind. “Oh, my sweet Jonas,” she sighs. She puts her hand on my cheek. “You’re all upside, do you know that?”
I sigh and close my eyes. I’m blowing it. I know I am.
I press my cheek into her hand. God, I love this woman.
“You’re nothing but upside, my sweet Jonas,” she whispers. She squeezes my hand and puts her other hand over her heart. “It’s madness.”
The second book of The Club Trilogy is The Reclamation, coming out January 26, 2015. Here’s an excerpt from The Reclamation:
Chapter 1
Jonas
There are two twitching, trembling women standing in my living room right now—and I’m not talking about the good kind of twitching, trembling women. Sarah and Kat are scared shitless right now, freaking out about their places being ransacked and their computers stolen (undoubtedly by the motherfuckers at the Club), and wondering if today’s events represent the sum total of the iceberg slamming into them, or just the tip of it. And I can’t blame them for being scared. Now that Sarah knows the truth about The Club—and The Club knows she knows their secret—what might those fuckers be willing to do to protect their global cash-cow-prostitution-ring? Well, I’m not going to wait to find out. I’m taking these motherfuckers down.
Dedication
This book is dedicated to the wonderful ladies who read this book first and responded with a hearty “hot damn and hell yeah”: Nicki, Marnie, Lesley, Tiffanie, Colleen, and Holly, plus, my mom, mother-in-law, and aunt. I was thrilled but not surprised when my best girlfriends loved the book—but when my mom, mother-in-law and aunt loved it, too? “We old ladies like the sexy stuff, too,” my aunt explained to me. So effing awesome. Thank you, ladies, all of you. I love you all.
About the Author
Lauren Rowe is the pen name of an author, performer, audio book narrator, songwriter and media host/personality who decided to unleash her alter ego to write The Club Trilogy to ensure she didn’t hold back or self-censor in writing the story. Lauren Rowe lives in San Diego, California where she sings with her band, hosts a show, and writes at all hours of the night. Find out more about The Club Trilogy and Lauren Rowe at www.LaurenRoweBooks.com.
Table of Contents
The Club Copyright © 2015
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Epilogue
Dedication
About the Author