Even Better (Stripped 2.50)

He turns on Blue. “This is your fucking fault.”

Blue’s eyes narrow. “Maybe if you would have taken my advice and installed cameras in the back rooms, like I told you

to.”

Ivan glares but doesn’t reply. He’d been too worried about what they might catch on tape, I suppose. And now we won’t know who broke in. The Grand is heavily guarded while it’s open, when it’s dark outside. There are only a few hours, just after dawn, when no one is here.

“Install them,” Ivan says, voice low and growling. “And I want this place guarded around the clock.”

I’m shaking, shivering. Afraid because Candy hasn’t said a word, hasn’t even blinked.

“Candy?” I ask softly.

No answer. She’s like a statue. A doll.

“Who the fuck is John?” Ivan says again, snarling.

Blue studies the pink scrawl. “Maybe the numbers are a time of day. We can check the tapes from the floor, find out who came in. Especially anyone who interacted with…”

He trails off, and all of our attention goes to Candy.

Maybe the numbers are a time of day. Or hell, maybe they’re the ramblings of a crazy person, meaningless to anyone outside its vortex. The bouncers have always been strict here, but assholes still get in.

After all, they have to get caught to get thrown out.

I’m thinking the note means something else, though. Mrs. Owens would read every evening, silently, before bed. There was only one book in her house. And when she couldn’t see anymore, I read to her aloud. “The bible,” I murmur.

“What?” Ivan snaps.

“Oh fuck,” Blue breathes, staring at the note with new eyes. “It could be a passage from the bible. John 10:16. We can look it up.”

Candy jolts, as if someone slapped her. She scrambles back, off the stool, away from the offending mirror. It’s littered with her makeup, her glitter. Her space, violated. Defiled.

“Don’t bother,” she whispers.

My heart is breaking to see her this way, my strong, irreverent friend turned into a trembling little girl. That’s how she looks right now. Little. The lace and glitter that had made her look pretend-innocent now just look real.

“Never mind,” Ivan says, so low and tender I don’t even recognize him. He takes her into his arms, almost cradling her. There are two strangers in front of me—one giving comfort, one receiving it. “It doesn’t matter. You’ll never see this again. We’ll burn it. And whoever left this, he’ll never touch you.”

Candy’s wide eyes flash to mine, and I know the truth she cannot say. Whoever left this, she knows him. Whoever left this, he’s already touched her.

“And I have other sheep that are not of this fold,” she says, reciting. “I must bring them also, and they will listen to my voice. So there will be one flock, one shepherd.”

One shepherd. I shiver.

Ivan lets out a low curse. He’s determined to wipe this away, and any other time, I’d believe he could. He’s the puppet master around here. All the girls dance while he pulls the strings.

Except for Candy.

There are other strings holding her. And other masters.

Thank you for reading the Stripped series. I’m pleased to present an extended, exclusive excerpt from Pretty When You Cry, the next novel in the series—the story of Ivan and Candy…

I feel every crack in the pavement, every jagged rock. Every rounded hump as the sidewalk turns to cobblestone and then back again. My shoes are made of white canvas and a thin bamboo sole, already fraying and black from the grime of the city.

This morning I woke up on my floor mat in Harmony Hills. Everything was white and clean and pure. A long hike and bus ride later, I made it to the outside. To Tanglewood, a random stop in a long line of them. So far it’s exactly how Leader Allen said it would be. Gutted buildings. Dark alleys. A nest of sin.

That’s not the worst part.