Best of 2017

Pushing my way through the throng of bodies, the air stale, humid, the heat suffocating, I said a silent prayer that the line to use the bathroom wasn’t up the ass. But there were still a few girls ahead of me. I leaned against the wall, resting my head back on it, and stared up. I noticed the video camera aimed right at me. There were several in this hallway, two in the back, one pointing at me, and another aimed at the dance floor. I had no doubt there were a dozen more at other locations.

Although this place was wild on most nights, it also had a reputation for being safe—well, as safe as a nightclub could be. It had just been renovated by the new owner over the last year, a man I’d heard rumors about, and one I never wanted to meet.

Dark and dangerous. Violent and psychotic. He’s not a person you want to meet in a dark alley. He’d just as soon slit your throat for looking at him the wrong way.

Rumors, of course, but it was those words, whispered by everyone and anyone, that told me there had to be a little bit of truth behind them.

I feel sorry for anyone who pisses off Cameron Ashton, because he’ll solve that problem with a shovel and a six-foot-deep hole.

Pushing off the wall when it was my turn inside, I used the facility, went over to the sink to wash my hands, and stared at myself in the mirror. The girl who stared back looked sad, and not in an emotional way. My reflection showed a hot mess. My eyeliner was starting to smear under my eyes, pieces of my dark hair stuck to my temples, and the lipstick I had on, once red and vibrant, now looked dead and colorless.

I finished in the restroom, pushed my way through the crowd, and finally opened the door that led outside. The cool night air washed over me, and I involuntarily closed my eyes, moaning softly. It felt good out here, the crush of bodies and heat a distant memory the longer I stood here. The alcohol that had once numbed me, clouding my head with the nothingness, started to clear.

Maybe I hadn’t been as drunk as I’d thought. Being behind those doors was like another world. The lights, music, the people trying to get off any way they could, brought you down low to a depraved, sticky and disgusting level. It’s what I loved.

I needed to get home now, had work in the morning, had to get back to my shitty life. I fished my cell out of the miniscule handbag I carried with me, dialed the cab service I had memorized, and told them the address. Coming here for the last year should have had them knowing me by name. As I waited for them to arrive, ten long fucking minutes, I moved away from the front doors and leaned against the wall off to the side. I glanced up, the streetlight close by bright but not quite reaching me fully. Looking to my left, I noticed another security camera, this one pointed at the front doors. Never let it be said this place didn’t have their shit together.

The sound of a lighter going off to my right had me glancing over. I saw the flare of the flame, smelled the scent of the cigarette as its owner inhaled and then exhaled.

“Hey, girl.”

I exhaled. God, of course the guy from inside, the one with the small dick and the need for me to go home with him, would be out here. I didn’t bother replying, didn’t want to engage. Instead I turned my head in the other direction and glanced at a few people across the parking lot smoking. I felt the lightest touch on my arm.

The hell?

I glanced to my right, and before I knew what was happening, that light touch from the asshole turned into him pulling me farther into the shadowy side street.

CHAPTER TWO

“HEY,” I shouted, but he clapped his hand over my mouth. Panic welled in me so violently I couldn’t think straight. My heart started hammering against my ribs when he pushed me farther into the shadowy abyss.

He had me pinned to the side of the wall, the brick scraping along my back. There’d be marks on my flesh, but that was the least of my worries. His forearm on my throat cut off my oxygen. I clawed at his arm, my nails digging at his skin. He hissed and put more pressure on my neck. My head started to grow fuzzy, my body going numb. I was far beyond panicking, the survival instinct rising up violently.

“You stupid fucking cunt,” he said close to my face, his breath smelling stale, the aroma of the cigarette he’d been smoking making me sick to my stomach. I might have thrown up if I hadn’t been struggling to breathe

The sound of a belt buckle being undone, of a zipper being pulled down, brought reality crashing down on me. I wouldn’t be able to get out of this, not without a hell of a lot more damage than just the scrapes on my back. The sound of people coming in and out of the club was so close, yet so far away.

“You should have taken me up on my offer to come back to my place. I would have been gentle with you.”

Lies.

“But now you’ll get fucked in this dirty alley like the whore you are.”

I felt his erection against my belly. I tried to say something, to yell out, do anything that would make me more than a victim waiting to get attacked.

The flash of headlights pulling into the alley had my attacker stilling and glancing to the side. He kept his forearm on my throat but tucked himself back into his pants. He moved closer to me so I had no doubt that whoever was in that car couldn’t see his arm pressing into me, cutting off my oxygen. It was clear he didn’t care or was too drunk to have a problem with someone seeing us in this position. But I supposed it might look like two people about to get it on…both consenting, even though I wanted to knee this fucker in the balls.

“Make one sound and I’ll find out where you live, come in through your window, and really do some damage.”

God, was the frat-boy appearance just a cover for his psychotic nature? But no way in hell I’d take his threat seriously, even if he meant one word. This would be my only chance to get help. Because even if I did nothing, he’d still destroy me.

The car was a good ten feet away, the headlights shining right on us, the vehicle just idling now. It seemed like forever before the sound of a door opening and closing came louder than the rush of conversation from the club goers just around the corner. And then I heard feet hitting pavement in an easy, relaxed pace; then the sight of a large body—very large—came into view. I could only assume it was a man, given the size. He stayed behind the lights, the shadows wrapping around his tall frame.

He stared at us for long seconds, and for some reason all I could do was stare right back. I started to struggle. I caught the asshole holding me off guard and managed to push him back enough that his forearm was no longer pressed painfully into my throat. I sucked in oxygen, sweet, life-sustaining oxygen. My throat burned, and a flush stole over me, the pain of being able to breathe again claiming me.

“You fucking bitch,” the asshole next to me hissed.

And then there was the sound of another door opening and closing, of a gun being cocked. The shadowy man tipped his head to the side. It was the slightest move, but it caused whoever had just gotten out of the car to start walking toward us.

“The fuck?” the asshole pinned against me said in a hushed voice, his eyes squinted, the headlights blinding us. I feared the worst, thinking maybe I’d misjudged whoever had shown up as being able to help. Maybe they were worse than the fucker who’d attacked me.

And then the guy was pulled away from me, the sweet relief of his body no longer on mine urging me to run. But I was frozen in place, the dark shapes still covered in the shadows, the headlights still blinding me, making it impossible to see anything clearly. I rubbed my throat, the burn almost unbearable.

And then a body was thrown against the side of the building, and I realized it was the would-be frat boy. I stood there shocked, unable to move, as I watched a man approach. He was in front of the car, his body illuminated by the intense yellow glow of his headlights. But his face was still concealed. An air of danger came from this man like a punch to my gut. I sucked in more oxygen, this time not having anything to do with the fact I was struggling to breathe.

I stared at the man currently holding the asshole up against the brick wall by his

neck. Whoever the man was, he was big, supporting another human as if it was nothing at all. I covered my chest, despite the fact that I was dressed. I was bared, like I was so open my secrets were exposed. When I glanced at the man who’d tilted his head, who’d sent his guard dog to do his bidding, I could feel his gaze on me. I might not be able to see his face, but I felt his eyes on me like fingers touching me, stroking me, holding me down.

And then my heart seized in my chest as I watched him lift his arm, the gun I’d heard being cocked most likely the one he held. He took a step closer, not to me, but to the body pinned to the wall. The guy was struggling to breathe, clawing at the grip the man had on his throat.

Just like me. A taste of his own medicine.

He kept moving closer to the man pinned to the wall, but I knew he watched me, knew he was calculating all of this. I thought I’d be able to see him when he moved away from the headlights. But once he was standing next to his partner or guard dog or whatever the hell the guy was to him, I still couldn’t make out his face. I knew I wouldn’t have known him anyway, but I wanted to look into the face of the man who’d saved me.

Saved me?

Yes, he’d saved me from a very dark hole, pulled me out so I could breathe again. But I now had this feeling, this sensation like honey on my skin, thick, almost suffocating me again, that this man was far more dangerous than anything I’d ever come across.

He said nothing, and the only sound that penetrated my foggy brain was of the man struggling, of his wheezes and gasps as he tried to claw at the hand holding him, keeping him up. I felt nothing, no sympathy for him, nothing but the need to see him hurt the way he’d hurt me. And then, my lungs clenching painfully with every inhalation I made, I watched the man push away his partner and take his place in front of Frat Boy. Instinct, survival told me to run, to get the hell out of here because this was going straight into hell, where the flames licked at me, threatening to burn me alive.