Chapter Five
Chloe
His touch was electric, even though everything around him felt cold.
Days had gone by since my strange encounter with Zane and since then, I’d caught myself daydreaming about that night a lot. And not because it was one of the most terrifying moments of my life. No, it wasn’t fear that kept replaying in my mind.
It was the way his hands had held me steady before moving me behind him, like a wild animal protecting its territory. And the way I kept imagining those same hands on me in other ways, especially in the quiet moments before sleep, when my body betrayed me, letting the fantasy take over.
Call it euphoria, trauma, or just madness but I couldn’t stop thinking about him.
Was he dangerous? Probably.
Was he rude? Absolutely.
He was everything I’d learned to stay away from and hopefully, someone I’d never see again. Yet, something must have been really wrong with me because none of those reasons was enough to make me want to forget about him.
Maybe it was the loneliness. Maybe it had been too long since anything or anyone had shaken me like this. Too long since I’d looked into a man’s eyes and actually trusted he wouldn’t hurt me.
I’d been with men before. Sometimes I’d let someone in for a night, a week, but it never lasted.
The moment they found out I worked for Bruce, it shifted.
Either they’d want nothing to do with me, or they’d suddenly morph into one of those men from the club, expecting a performance on demand.
And I hated it, hated moving on script, hated becoming what people expected rather than who I was… who I wanted to be.
So, nothing had lasted long enough to matter in… a really long time.
And now there was Zane. A stranger, corrupting my thoughts, making me sweat even in my dreams. Pathetic. Absolutely pathetic settling for a fantasy. But fantasies and half-assed relationships were all I could have when I wasn’t even the owner of my own life.
With a sigh, I forced myself out of bed, heading to the bathroom. After a quick shower and brushing my teeth, I walked around the counter of my outdated kitchenette to grab a glass.
My apartment was neither big nor beautiful, but an old shoebox downtown was the furthest Bruce would go to provide a house for one of ‘his’ girls.
And after spending a year sleeping on the floor of the club, I couldn’t complain.
At least now I had my own space, not needing to worry about unaffordable rents.
The vibration of the phone on the counter jolted me from my thoughts. I rushed to pick it up, Malia’s face popping onto my screen a second later, smiling, her ever-messy ponytail bobbing as she walked through campus with earbuds in.
“Hey, you!” She beamed, full of her usual warmth and energy.
We looked so alike but couldn’t have been more different. We were the sun and the moon. She radiated hope, while I just tried my best not to drown in the dark.
“I’m walking to class and saw your text. What’s up?”
A sad smile crossed my lips before I could help it. God, I missed her. Even though we spoke almost every day, I hadn’t seen her in person in years. Bruce would never allow me to travel, and it wasn’t safe for her to come here, risking him seeing her all grown-up.
“Nothing,” I murmured. “Just wanted to see your face.”
“Well, here it is, in all its puffy, sleep-deprived glory,” she said, sticking out her tongue.
I laughed, but it was more sad than happy. I missed her so much it hurt.
“Are you okay, Chlo?” Malia asked, her tone dipping as she studied me through the screen. “You sound... off.”
I hesitated, thinking about the last events. “I’m fine,” I lied. “Just tired.”
Her eyebrows pulled together in concern.
“You know you can tell me anything, right? I’m not a kid anymore.”
She started fidgeting with her necklace, something she always did when worried or nervous, hoping I’d finally open up about my problems.
She knew our father had gotten into trouble, that I was working to pay off his debts, but she didn’t know the details. I wasn’t even sure how much she remembered… or what our parents might’ve told her when Bruce took me. We never talked about it before or after she left.
A soft silence stretched between us, as if we were both reliving that night. Even though it had been different for both of us.
Malia had only been thirteen when Bruce and his goons had dragged me from our home in the middle of the night. She’d screamed so loud and cried so hard that the sound had left a permanent crack in my heart. But maybe it was also what saved her because they only took me.
But I couldn’t risk him coming back for her later, so once I had enough money, I convinced my mother to sign the papers making me Malia’s legal guardian.
Then I bought her a one-way ticket, sending her to live with our aunt in California.
Hoping Bruce would eventually forget about her, but he never did.
He used her name in his mouth whenever it suited him, knowing she was my only weakness, the only thing I had left to lose, the only thing I’d fight and live for.
I told her it was temporary. That she’d have a better life there, not daring to tell her I was trading myself in exchange.
I didn’t want her worrying about me.
I just wanted her to be far from me, far from New York, far from Bruce and his schemes.
“How are classes?” I asked, changing the subject but also needing to hear about her life—her normal, safe life.
“Oh, the usual,” she groaned. “Professor Lonsdale spent forty minutes lecturing on patient assessment techniques and then gave us a case study so vague it might as well have been a riddle. I swear he thinks we’re all failed poets instead of med students who might actually be saving lives.”
“Sounds like college!” I chuckled.
She elaborated, and I brought the phone closer, not wanting to miss a thing, letting her voice soothe some of the tightness in my chest. She was brilliant. She’d earned a scholarship and was studying to be a doctor. I was so proud of her. She was going to live and become someone… for both of us.
“You’re exactly where you should be,” I added when her ranting and self-doubt finally paused.
She sighed. “I wish I could visit.”
“Me too.”
“Once I’m rich and famous, I’ll buy a beach house, pay off Father’s stupid debts and you’ll come live with me.”
I laughed, having no doubt she would take care of me if she could.
Which was exactly why I avoided the conversation.
If she knew the truth, she’d find a way to come back, kicking down doors, not caring about the wolf waiting behind them.
And I hadn’t spent all these years doing this just for her to end up walking through his front door.
She paused, her hazel green eyes meeting mine tenderly. “Love you,” she said.
“Love you more.” I grinned, savoring the moment.
“Text me when you finish class.”
“Always.”
She hung up and I stared at the screen for a moment, my reflection the only thing staring back. Alone again.
I opened the money transfer app and sent half of what Bruce had given me last night to my aunt.
Even though the old lady had married well and lived comfortably, Malia hadn’t been accepted into her house exactly free of charge.
She demanded some small ‘compensation’ for her so-called ‘good-will’ and forty bucks wouldn’t be enough to keep her happy.
Luckily, these conversations were between Aunt and me, never involving Malia. I didn’t want her to feel guilty.
My eyes drifted to the wall clock.
My shift at the club was only supposed to start at eight but I grabbed my bag and keys, and walked out, hoping if I went earlier, I could get Bruce to pay me some extra hours.
God knew I needed the money.
After refilling the ice and polishing the crystal glasses until they gleamed, I stood behind the bar, slicing the limes and get them ready for the nightshift.
The energy was always different during the day. There were no dancers on stage at this hour, no thumping bassline shaking the floor. Even better, fewer lascivious eyes sizing me up as I worked.
The private rooms still open for those wanting them at a more discreet hour and there were still a handful of men around savoring their drinks, but that would be it for the next couple of hours.
If it could always be like this, this wouldn’t be so bad.
.. But everyone knew the real monsters only came out at night, when the red lights turned on and mixed with the blue and purple hues.
A silver tray clattered onto the marble bar, the sound making me shudder. I reached for the ticket on the tray, then looked up to see Shontel waiting on the other side, chewing her gum vigorously.
“You look tired, sweetheart,” she said, making no effort to disguise the way her eyes scanned me up and down. Her gum popped between her teeth after a pause. “You’re way too young to be dragging around like that.”
She was teasing me, the way she often did.
I started preparing two whiskeys on the rocks for her order. “Yeah, well, let’s say I’ve had an eventful couple of days,” I muttered with a shrug.
Her expression softened, shifting from playful to concerned, as if she could read between the lines.
“It gets better, Chloe. You’re a strong, beautiful woman. Good things will come to you.” Her voice was soft, and the fleeting touch of her warm hand on my forearm across the bar was sweet. I offered a smile in return, not wanting to speak in case tears decided to follow.