Chapter Eighteen
London
“You can do this,” I whisper to myself. “It’s already been two and a half months. You’ll get there in no time.”
Except I haven’t even served half my sentence, and I’m already done.
I’m done waking up every morning, staring at the ceiling, and wondering why I willingly walked into Mason’s trap.
I’m done spending most of my waking hours fending off creeps.
And I’m done lying to Noah and my dad about the new reality of my life.
I want to rewind to the moment I signed the contract and shake some sense into myself.
I’m tired of wandering around the club like a ghost, always on edge and afraid of the parts of myself that respond to the place.
What’s the matter with me?
I’m here to work off a debt, not unlock a depraved part of myself that has no business being there. I have no right to keep reliving the scene at the library, imagining Mason’s hands instead of mine.
I don’t know how he got inside my head, but I refuse to let him stay there.
I’ll figure out a way to silence that voice for good because I know it won’t do me any good.
If you could only go back in time and stop your dad from taking out this loan to begin with, you wouldn’t be in this mess.
Would losing the diner really be that bad?
Could I look my father in the eye if we did?
Given how much time, money, and energy has gone into the place, it’s hard to imagine giving up so easily, but I also can’t ignore that it would be the better option for everyone involved.
My dad has spent the past ten years dedicating himself to the place.
It’s cost him his health, his marriage, and I suspect, a bit of his sanity.
I walked away from a college degree to help.
We’re both so invested that the thought of giving up doesn’t sit well with me, but I let my mind wander.
Would Mason let me out of my contract if he had the diner, or would I still have to honor it?
I don’t want to be the reason the diner is ripped away from my dad, but I don’t know if I can keep standing between it and the next chapter of our lives.
If there even is a next chapter…
My dad and Noah will move on when this is over, blissfully unaware of what it cost to get there. I, on the other hand, said goodbye to my old life the minute I signed the contract, and I know it.
Letting go of what I thought my year was going to be is hard, but it isn’t as difficult as knowing that it needed to be done.
I picture my father’s face as they take the restaurant away. I tell myself he’d survive if he knew the truth, but no matter how hard I try to convince myself, I can’t make it real.
Who am I kidding?
When my mom walked away years ago, the diner became my father’s life. I know he loves me, but not having the diner in his life would chip away at him.
Mason made it seem like I only had two options, but that’s because they both benefit him. In my haste to find a way out, I hadn’t considered what everything meant.
What if I find another way to work off the debt?
Maybe you should consider what Miss Deveroux said. It’s the quickest way to reduce your time, and you know you’re curious.
Noah has messaged me several times a day, and he’s proving that he’s still committed to me.
It makes me feel worse because I know he deserves better. That he should get on with his life.
A twisted part of me wants him to.
I want Noah to admit that it’s been hard, and that he’s been fighting the urge to find comfort in someone else’s arms.
At least then, I’d know he wasn’t sitting around waiting for me.
Nothing makes sense anymore. This is why I need to find a way out of my contract, and fast. The longer I stay, the worse this will get.
I briefly consider turning to my mom for help, knowing she won’t turn me away if I tell her how much trouble Dad is in, but she’s also worked hard.
I love her too much to drag her back into the mess with the diner. She already walked away from it once to save herself.
I won’t be the one to force her back, not even for my future or my sanity.
With a frown, I force myself out of the room and into the hallway. I run into a few employees, all dressed differently, but no one looks me in the eye.
I don’t blame them.
I don’t even want to look in the mirror.
I walk to the main lobby and pile into the elevator with a few other employees with similar ID cards.
One of them glances at the bracelet on my wrist, inches away, and pretends to scan the bright numbers on the panel.
When the doors open, they all pile out, and I linger, not ready for my day to start.
Miss Deveroux is waiting for me in her usual spot next to the lockers.
I try not to look around when I enter. “Quiet day today?”
Miss Deveroux motions to me, and I follow her. “It’s never quiet around here. Just give it some time, and it’ll pick up. He’s not here today, you know.”
I snap my gaze to hers and raise an eyebrow. “Who’s not here?”
“Mr. Payne.” Miss Deveroux’s voice is knowing. “I don’t think he’ll be in for a few days. He’s got some business to take care of.”
“Oh.” I ignore the twinge of disappointment in my chest. “I wasn’t wondering where he was.”
Miss Deveroux leads me to her office in the back. “Honey, we both know that isn’t true, but I also know better than to push you. You’ll go to him when you’re ready.”
I fold my arms over my chest and lean against the wall. “What makes you so sure I will?”
Miss Deveroux levels me with a gaze. “Because I’ve seen the way he looks at you, but I’ve also seen the way you look at him.”
“Like he’s my jailer?” I mumble. “It doesn’t matter how he looks at me. There are so many reasons why getting involved with him is a bad idea.”
Miss Deveroux grunts noncommittally. “Well, honey, no one ever said it was a good idea. But even bad ideas can be good.”
“How?”
Miss Deveroux rummages through a drawer, and her voice is muffled when she speaks again. “Having the best sex of your life, for starters.”
I blush. “What makes you think I haven’t?”
She glances at me and chuckles. “That’s obvious from a mile away.”
I push myself off the wall. “Well, you’re wrong. Noah is great. We’re great.”
“Uh-huh.” Miss Deveroux snaps the drawer shut and stands up. “Sure, you are. Well, anyways. Like I said, I think it’s only a matter of time, but tell yourself whatever you need to.”
Together, we step out of her office and move down the dimly lit hallway. I listen to my list of tasks for the day, occasionally offering a nod. When she’s done, Miss Deveroux steps behind the bar and disappears in a flurry of movement and color. I sigh and head off to start cleaning the first room.
I’m halfway through my tasks when someone calls my name.
I freeze and turn slowly, unease creeping up my spine as I recognize the tousled blond hair and cruel, dark eyes. He is dressed in a button-down shirt tucked into a pair of tight jeans, and a pair of expensive Italian loafers.
There’s no mistaking who he is.
I’d recognize Noah’s friend, Steven, anywhere.
“I thought it was you.” Steven has a twinkle in his eyes as he advances. I clench my hands into fists, and my eyes dart around for a way out, but he has me cornered in a cramped corner of the hallway.
Shit.
Of all the people to run into, Steven is the last person I want to see.
I’m not entirely surprised he’s here, though.
His dad’s name not only got him through the door, but it probably allowed him to do whatever he wanted while he was here.
“At first, I told myself it was just someone who looked like you, but I’d recognize that ass anywhere.” Steven leans forward, his smile sending another chill through me. “Being here suits you.”
He’s baiting me, but I won’t let him.
Steven raises an eyebrow. “Cat got your tongue?”
I square my shoulders and look at him. “What do you want?”
He throws back his head and laughs. “I always had a feeling about you. You’re not the good little girl you pretend to be. You like it rough.”
I give him a cold look. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Steven smiles again, and bile rises in my throat. “Noah doesn’t know you work here, does he?”
I lift my chin. “Of course, he does. Noah and I don’t keep secrets from each other.”
The last thing I need is for Noah to find out from Steven.
I don’t like Steven, and he has me where he wants me.
I need him to keep my secret, but I’m afraid of what kind of favor he’ll ask for in return.
Men like Steven don’t do anything for free.
He places a hand on the wall behind me and leans in close, reeking of cologne, tobacco, and whiskey. “Why don’t I believe you?”
I shrug.
I’m tempted to signal Miss Deveroux and have him taken care of, but I know it’ll only make things worse.
“Let’s say I don’t believe you. I assume you don’t want Noah to know, so how much are you willing to pay me to keep your secret?”
I stiffen. “I’m not going to pay you anything.”
Not just because I can’t afford to. Money won’t buy Steven’s silence.
His eyes flash with amusement. “Oh, you will. I doubt you want Noah to know he has a dirty little girl. It’s hot, don’t get me wrong, but Noah isn’t the kind of guy who would appreciate it.”
I scowl. “You mean the kind of man with integrity?”
Steven snorts. “Whatever you want to call it. You must be really bored if you wound up here.”
“Why I’m here is none of your business.”
His eyes sweep over me, lingering on my chest.
I want to punch him.
“It can be my business,” Steven whispers, grazing my arm. “Buying my silence isn’t just about money. We can come to another arrangement. I bet you’d even enjoy yourself.”
I shove his hand away and growl. “Don’t fucking touch me.”
“I like it when they’re feisty,” Steven says, his eyes darkening. “I’m going to enjoy this.”
“Stay the hell away from me,” I warn. “I mean it.”
He arches a brow in my direction. “Or what?”
His hand darts out again, and I slap it away. A flash of surprise moves across his face before his expression hardens. I stagger back, my heart hammering.
Of all the people to run into, why did it have to be Steven?