Soon. He’d said soon. Did that mean he was on his way over? The clock on her phone read 11: 15 am. He was on duty until noon, she was sure of it, but what if the club had taken a hit because of her argument with Isis?
She should never have risen to the stripper’s tease, but she’d been so infatuated with the thought of Chase that she hadn’t seen straight.
What if Big Nick was on nearby? What if was coming to make good on the promises.
Flash. The image of Big Nick’s friend pumping his crotch. Flash. Nick pushing her up against the wall. Flash. Nick unbuttoning her pants and pulling them down.
Emily launched herself upwards and stuffed handfuls of cash into her jean pockets. She bolted into the bedroom and brought down a kit bag, and collected her worldly possessions.
Underwear, bras, shirts, two pairs of shoes, three dresses and a spare pair of jeans. She tossed the stilettos into the corner and forced her feet into trainers instead, then went to the kitchen and got out the steak knife.
She had to get out before he arrived. She had ten minutes at best, twenty if there was a traffic jam, but she’d never been lucky.
Emily surveyed the hallway through the peephole, then crashed outdoors and ran down the stairs and out the front of the building.
She had nowhere to go, but she couldn’t stay. If Big Nick caught her, it would be the end.
Emily joined the tide of human bodies pressing in every direction and let it carry her up the street.
She’d officially joined the countless homeless in New York.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“Emily?”
It was as if she’d had a bucket of ice dumped down the back of her shirt. She was on the sidewalk, being shunted along by a tide of humans, past restaurants, retailers, small businesses and coffee shop.
“Emily, wait,” a man called out behind her.
It had to be Nick. He’d found her!
She swung her arms, trying to wade through human flesh like water. She had to get out of the crowd and disappear. He’d never let her go if he got those over-sized dustbin hands on her.
“Emily.” He was closer, she could almost feel his breath on her neck. She redoubled her efforts, trying to push people aside and using her kit bag as leverage.
“Hey, watch it lady.” A grumpy man with his hair slicked back in a ponytail elbowed her.
“Emily, stop.” Fingers dug into her shoulder and it was over. She was snared in Big Nick’s sexual trap. It was the touch of doom and she had to fight it, the alternative meant betraying who she was to the core.
“Let go of me!” She scratched him with her long nails and he let go.
“What the fuck? Emily, it’s me. It’s Chase.”
The beat of her heart, the surrounding pulse of the crowd, slowed. People carried on moving, but Emily was stuck to the spot, glued in place by a rush of relief and anxiety in equal measures.
Chase appeared in front of her, carrying a Starbucks cup with a plain navy tie hanging loose around his broad shoulders.
“What’s happened?” He pulled her aside, under the eaves of a Macy’s.
“What time is it?” She rooted her phone out of her tote and stared at the screen to avoid him. It was 3 in the afternoon. She’d been at it for almost four hours, walking as far as she could to get lost.
If she was lost, he couldn’t find her.
But Chase had.
“Emily,” he said softly, stroking her elbow with his thumb, “tell me what’s going on.”
“He called. He told me he was coming. I can’t stay there from now on, but I can’t afford to move out. It’s over, Chase. It’s over. I’m his now.”
“If you had the money you’d be able to move out.”
Emily shook her head vehemently. She was numb inside, but she wouldn’t accept handouts from him. It was against her grain. There had to be a way to stand up against Nick without resorting to that.
Maybe there wasn’t. Maybe she was a dirty coke whore without hope of a happy future. She’d never see her kids again, she’d lose Chase for good, and she’d be Nick’s bitch.
“I’m not talking about a handout, Emily.” Chase’s voice was harsh and she met his anger with her emptiness. “I’ve got a job opportunity for you.”
“What?” The fog of panic swirling around her brain lifted.
“I have a friend who owns a dance studio. I phoned her and called in a favor. You’ve got a job interview with her.”
“Are you serious? Are you serious?” The questions came out in rapid fire succession.
“Yes.” His answer was somber.
Emily collapsed against the building and blew out a long stream of air.
“Here,” Chase said, handing her the Starbucks cup. She drank from the plastic lid and the aroma of coffee stoked her energy and enthusiasm.
“Why are you doing this for me?” How could she trust him after the strip club, after falling for him and realizing the danger?
“Because you’re in trouble.”
“What else do you want?”
“Come on, get real Emily. Not every man is a creep who wants to get into your pants. If you think like that, you’ll shut yourself off from opportunities and friends.”
“Friends,” she repeated it and studied his expression over the plastic rim of the coffee cup.
“Friends.” He nodded to reassure her but she still wasn’t one hundred percent on his motivations. She clenched the cup – she didn’t have any other options, and the job interview at a dance studio was an unbelievable opportunity.
“Come on, Emily. I just want you to be safe and happy. I care about you. Isn’t that reason enough?”
She took her time considering, then nodded finally.
“Thank you, Chase. I can’t thank you enough. I promise you won’t regret this.” An actual dance studio. It was her dream in its truest form. If she got it, she’d be able to teach Latin ballroom, or pole dancing or modern or anything else and she’d have the money to get Big Nick off her back.
“I’ve got to make a call.” Emily lifted the screen and scrolled through her contacts list.
“To him?” Chase didn’t wait for her answer. “Why don’t you let me do that?”
“I have to do this on my own, Chase. At least this.”
“You’ve done everything on your own, Emily. I admire you for that.”
She wanted to reach out and touch him, but she was still upset about the interference at the club and embarrassed about her reaction to it. She’d dumped them both in deep water here.
Emily placed the phone against her ear and listened to the ring on the other end.
“Yo.” Big Nick’s answer was casual and there was silence in the background. He wasn’t at the strip club. “Where you at, girl. We got a date. Rude to run out when you know that.”
“Nick, I can get you the money.” She had to make him believe it, even if she didn’t have the job yet. She needed a place to stay.
There was a long pause. “Oh. You sure about that? I like these flowery sheets you got here, lady. They’re begging for our naked bodies on ‘em.”
He was in her apartment. The blood drained out of her face and Chase’s eyebrows jumped up in concern.
‘What?’ Chase mouthed it.
“I’ve got a new job.”
“In a half day? You standing on street corners now or what?”
What a revolting creature.
“No. But I’ve got a job and I’ll be able to pay you what I owe you in a couple months, okay?”
“A couple months,” Big Nick answered with that telltale grunting chuckle. She could picture him sitting at her skew table, sniffing her pillow or undies. “You’ve got one day before I take what’s mine.”
“I can’t do one day, Nick. It’s going to be in a couple months and then I’ll be out of your hair.”
“I’d rather be in your hair if you know what I mean.”
Emily wiped her mouth and chin in a long downwards stroke.
&n
bsp; “Nick, you have to give me the time to get the cash together.”
“Sorry, girlie, it’s over. You get me that money tomorrow. I’ll be here waiting on the flowery sheets. You keep than in your mind as motivation.”
Click.
He was gone.
No, he wasn’t, he was lying on her bed waiting for her to come home. Likely covered in clotted cream with cherries over his nipples, the sick fuck.
“What happened?” Chase led her down the road and held her to his side. She didn’t protest, she needed a little protection after the afternoon she’d had. They stopped at a Starbucks and joined the line.
“He said no. He’s waiting for me at the apartment.”
“Christ, that guy’s a sick dog.” Chase signaled to the barista. “Two Grande Blonde Roasts.”
“Thanks for the opportunity, Chase, but I don’t know what I’m going to do. I can’t go back to my place, and I sure as hell can’t sleep at the Dance Studio.”
He observed her carefully, then collected a couple packs of sugar and stirrers. He flicked the sugar sachet on the tips of his fingers and moved out of the way.
The barista called them over a couple minutes later and gave them their order.
“No. I’m not staying at yours.” Emily accepted her coffee and he stirred in sugar for her.
“I wasn’t going to suggest it. I do have a solution if you’ll wait more than two seconds to hear it and stop jumping to conclusions.”
Her apology came in the form of a blush.
“I have friend who’s gone to Europe to study for a year or two, and he told me I could sublet his apartment and take a cut of the cash.”
“How much for the rent?”
“Five hundred.”
Emily snorted in disbelief. “What is it, a room without a window?”
“I’m liberating myself from the regular real estate market.”
That had to be ass backwards manner of saying he’d cut her a deal. It felt a lot like charity, but what could she do? She had a chance to pursue her dream and to escape Big Nick for good. He’d never find her if she didn’t call back or go back to the apartment.
This was the beginning of her future. She only had to reach out and grab it.
Emily extended her right hand and Chase shook it.
“Thank you.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“Latin Ballroom,” Emily pronounced to the class of students in their twenties and thirties, “is about passion.”
The wooden floor was polished to perfection and the wall length mirror was free of cracks or dividers. There were bars for warming up along the edges of the room. In short, it was her dream made real.
“Now, this is a beginner class, so you won’t learn anything too fancy in the first few lessons.” Emily paused her pacing beside a couple holding hands and shifting their feet to dispel nerves. “But there is one thing,” she raised her index finger for the entire class to see and ambled towards the mirror to study her reflection, “I’ll expect of you from the start.”
She swayed her hips and turned with a clap. “Passion.”
The students hung on her words. Those who had walked in with their arms folded had dropped them to their sides once she’d started the monologue.
Emily had been working at the studio for a couple months and was used to the beginners who thought they’d be terrible and had a wall up about learning. They always broke down in the end and started dancing how they were meant to.
“Dance is freedom. It’s the purest form of expression and it’s been around since man first lit a fire or hunted a woolly mammoth with those,” she paused and made a throwing motion, “spear things.”
The class tittered their approval with laughter.
“My point, ladies and gents, is that you shouldn’t limit your body because your mind tells you to. I want you to get lost in the music, get lost in each other and lose the thoughts for the next forty five minutes. Got it?”
The students nodded. The couple rolled their shoulders and smiled.
“Good. Now, let’s get started.”
Emily clapped her hands twice, “Julio!”
Her stud of a Latino dance partner sauntered over, strutting like a peacock. The single ladies immediately perked up and Emily didn’t blame them, but it was a futile effort. Julio was muscled to perfection, with dark pools of expression for eyes, but he was as gay as the day was long.
“Let’s start with a simple Salsa.”
Julio took up his position and she slid into place, facing him. “You start in a neutral position with both feet together. The woman steps forward and places pressure on her right foot, then on her back foot, steps back to neutral. Then she steps back with her left foot again.”
Julio and Emily acted it out slowly, and she repeated the instructions for the students’ observation.
“Now, this might seem counterintuitive, but it’s really important that you don’t sway your hips whilst you’re doing this. There’s a natural rhythm introduced by the steps, so you’ll throw yourself out if you try swaying along on top of that.” The class nodded along, some of them actually wrote it down on notepads. “Thanks Julio.”
“Sure,” he answered with a cheeky wink, and a cute smack on her ass. She didn’t mind it from him, and it stirred up the class as well. Anything to induce or heighten the excitement.
Emily glanced up and caught sight of a figure at the back of the class, framed in the doorway.
It was Janet.
Emily didn’t bother greeting her. In the two months she’d worked for the fiery redhead, she’d been called a ‘ho’ twice. Julio had told her about it after the fact. Janet had spread rumors galore the minute she’d set foot in the studio on her first day, and she’d never bothered hiding her animosity towards Emily. The two spoke as little as possible.
“Everyone, pair off and start practicing. Julio and I will walk amongst you and check your form.” The students grabbed their preferred dance partners and started fumbling through the steps. Emily put on the Gypsy Kings on the stereo near the front of the class for inspiration.
The other dance instructor leaned against the doorframe and watched with a grimace obscuring her milky white skin and freckles.
Emily reluctantly raised a hand in greeting.
Janet was Chase’s friend – she assumed the same friend Chastity had mentioned – and Emily didn’t want to step on toes. She was lucky to have this job, and was a $100 off earning back the debt.
“Great work, guys.” Emily corrected the frame of a middle-aged woman in a blue leotard and sweats, then moved on.
How was she supposed to concentrate on the class with Janet giving her the evil eye in the background?
Frustration bubbled in her stomach.
“Em!” Chase strolled towards her, white buttoned shirt open at the collar as usual, and her heart skipped a beat.
He was as gorgeous as ever and had insisted on meeting her for lunch daily to catch up, but they’d already met for it a couple hours ago. And this was the first time he’d come directly to the studio to pick her up.
Emily glanced at Janet over his shoulder. The redhead scowled and rearranged her lavender sweatband. This was trouble. What if Janet had a crush on Chase? It could cause trouble for her future at the studio.
“Hey.” Chase leaned in and kissed her on the cheek, his masculine scent invaded her nostrils and sent her into a semi-dream state. It was always like that with him, but she still wasn’t ready to trust him again.
“Carry on practicing, guys, I’ll be back in a sec.” She signaled for Julio to take her place and went to stretch out at the bar. Chase joined her, standing instead of attempting a split or similar – he had too many muscles to bend that way.
“What’s up?”
He grinned, apparently oblivious of Janet’s rage burning a hole in his back. “I came to pick you up for an early dinner.”
“That’s a treat, but I’m not sure it’s the best idea, Chase. You know how I feel.
” She was afraid of what they could be or how he could hurt her.
“I know how you feel, and I still think it’s ridiculous. Come out to dinner with me and let’s talk about it.”
Emily propped her leg up on the bar and bent low over it, then glanced up at him.
“You trying to arouse me, Em?”
“What? Oh, sorry.” She took her leg down again with a grin.
“Come out with me.”
“Do I have a choice?”
“Not rea – ”
“Hi there, Chase.” Janet interrupted and inserted herself between them. “Fancy seeing you here.”
Chase didn’t smile at her and Emily frowned – what type of friends were these two?
“Yeah, I was just leaving.” He walked around her and embraced Emily, then held her by her shoulders, his warm hands caressing her skin. “Pick you up at eight?”
“You got it.” Emily gave in and he positively beamed back at her. “But only if it’s at El Paso.”
“I left my heart there, once,” he commented, then walked off with a chuckle.
Janet’s cheeks matched her hair, perfectly.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“Who is she, Chastity? I have to know.”
Chastity ogled Janet over her champagne flute and leaned back in the lounge chair. Who did this little fly think she was? How dare she question her about the woman?
“You couldn’t keep your hands on him. This isn’t my problem.” She dusted off her silk black dress, ostentatiously.
Janet leaned across the low table between them, ignoring the tinkling of classical music and the patrons idling nearby.
“Of course it’s your problem, you stupid bitch.”
Chastity swilled the champagne and envisioned tossing the glass at her ‘business’ partner.
“How so?”
“If I lose him, you lose him too. Don’t forget our little agreement, Chastity. Don’t forget what I know about you.”
“You know nothing of importance.” She picked at her nails, feigning tranquility. In truth, Janet knew enough to bring her down in a single stroke and take up her mantle as Queen in her place.
Never Say Never, Part One (Second Chance Romance, Book 1) Page 6