Chapter 2
2
ROXIE
T he faint smell of lavender cleaner hung in the air as Roxie adjusted the tension on the pole at the back of the studio. Her tired eyes swept across the room, noting the bright smiles and chatter of her students as they stretched on the worn mats. Their enthusiasm was a balm for her exhaustion, even if her body screamed for just one day of uninterrupted rest.
“All right, ladies!” she called out, clapping her hands to get their attention. “Let’s shake off the morning fog and get moving. Warm-up spins, two counts each side. Go!”
The class sprang to life, laughter and playful grumbles filling the space as the women approached their poles. Roxie moved through the group like a coach on game day, correcting grips, adjusting stances, and offering words of encouragement.
“Anita, lift your chin. You want to feel powerful, not like you’re hiding from the pole.”
Anita laughed nervously and adjusted her posture. “Easy for you to say. You look like you were born on one of these things.”
“Trust me, I wasn’t,” Roxie said with a grin, even as the ache in her back flared again. “Keep practicing. You’re stronger than you think.”
The words were meant for her students, but she felt their weight resonate within herself too. Stronger than you think. She hoped it was true.
“Okay, now that you’re warmed up,” she said, stepping back to the front of the room, “let’s put it all together. Watch closely.”
The women turned their attention to her, some still catching their breath. Roxie placed her hands on the pole, steadying herself for the move. Her muscles burned as she hoisted herself up, her legs wrapping around the pole with practiced ease. She twisted her body into a slow, controlled spin, letting gravity and momentum guide her.
“See? Controlled, steady. It’s all about...”
The words were cut off by a sharp metallic creak above her.
“Whoa!” Roxie exclaimed, her eyes darting upward as the pole shifted slightly. She barely had time to process what was happening before the pole detached from the ceiling with a deafening crack.
The world tilted, and she was thrown backward. Pain exploded in her shoulder as she hit the wall, her head snapping back against the plaster. Her vision blurred as she crumpled to the floor, a sickening thud marking her landing.
“Roxie!” someone screamed.
Her world narrowed to a pinprick of light before darkness claimed her.
KEELY
“Is she okay? Oh my god, she’s bleeding!”
“Don’t touch her! What if she has a neck injury?”
Panic filled the studio as Roxie’s students crowded around her crumpled form, their voices rising in pitch and urgency. A thin trickle of blood ran from a cut on her temple, pooling against the wood floor.
Keely Malone knelt beside her, her hands trembling as she fished her phone from her pocket. “Back up! Give her air,” she ordered, her voice steady despite the tremor in her hands.
“She’s not waking up!” Anita said, tears streaking her cheeks.
“She will,” Keely said firmly, pressing her fingers against a pulse point and sending a prayer of thanks that Roxie’s pulse was beating strongly, though her own heart pounded in her chest. With shaking fingers, she dialed a number and pressed the phone to her ear as she used the hem of her t-shirt to wipe the blood from Roxie’s face.
“Come on, Reed, pick up,” Keely whispered. Reed was Keely’s older brother, a former SEAL, a member of the Silver Spur Security Agency and one of the co-founders of the Iron Spur, where Roxie worked in the evening.
The line clicked, and a deep voice answered on the other end. “Keely? What’s up?” The sound of his calm, steady voice reassured her.
“It’s Roxie…”
“From the club?”
“One and the same. I take pole dancing class from her…”
“Pole dancing?”
“For exercise, and that doesn’t matter. Something happened during class. The pole—it came loose, and she fell. She’s out cold. Reed, she’s bleeding!”
A sharp intake of breath echoed over the line. “How bad?”
“I don’t know! She hit the wall hard, and...” Keely’s voice cracked. “Reed, we need help.”
“Stay with her. Don’t let anyone move her. If she comes to, try to keep her quiet. I’m sending someone.”
The line went dead, and Keely’s hands trembled as she lowered the phone. “Help is on the way,” she said, though the reassurance was more for herself than anyone else.
She turned her attention back to Roxie, who remained frighteningly still on the floor. “Come on, Rox,” she whispered. “Wake up. You’re stronger than this.”
The room fell into a tense silence.
GAVIN
Gavin Briggs leaned against his truck, the late morning sun casting a golden glow over the parking lot of Silver Spur Security. The phone pressed to his ear crackled as his longtime friend and business partner, Reed Malone, spoke.
“I need a favor, Gavin. Keely’s at some pole fitness studio, and her instructor had an accident. Keely says it looks bad. Could you get over there?” Reed’s voice carried a note of urgency Gavin rarely heard.
Gavin straightened, his instincts kicking in. “Why not just call 9-1-1?”
“It’s Roxie…”
“From the club?”
“Yep. She’s a friend of Keely’s. You remember her, right? Petite brunette, spiky haircut?”
“I remember,” Gavin replied, an image of the woman flashing in his mind. He’d seen her a couple of times with Keely—short, curvy, and with a confidence that seemed to mask something deeper. “Where are they?”
Reed rattled off the address. “Keely’s pretty shaken. I’m tied up, so I need you to handle it. She’ll fill you in when you get there.”
“On my way,” Gavin said, already climbing into his truck. He ended the call and started the engine, his mind switching into operational mode.
The studio was quiet when Gavin pushed through the door, the faint smell of sweat and cleaning solution lingering in the air. A small group of women stood clustered near the back wall, their worried whispers filling the space. Keely broke from the group as soon as she spotted him, her face pale with relief.
“Gavin! Thank God you’re here,” she said, tugging him toward the center of the room. “She’s over there. She hit the wall hard, and she’s bleeding.”
His sharp eyes landed on the woman sprawled on the floor. Roxie’s petite frame was crumpled against the base of the pole, her head resting at an awkward angle. A streak of blood marred her temple, standing out starkly against her pale skin.
Gavin knelt beside her, assessing her condition with a practiced gaze. Her chest rose and fell in shallow breaths, but her eyes remained closed. “Roxie? Can you hear me?” His voice was calm but firm.
She didn’t stir. He glanced over his shoulder at the women hovering nearby. “Did anyone call an ambulance?”
“We called 9-1-1 but they put us on hold. Apparently, there’s been a fire…” said one of the women.
Gavin turned to Keely who shook her head, guilt flashing across her face. “I called Reed, but...”
“Let’s fix that.” Gavin pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed. Only Gavin didn’t call 9-1-1, he dialed the head of the ER at the hospital. As he spoke to the doctor, Roxie let out a faint groan, her eyelids fluttering. “Get someone here now.” Gavin gave the address, but didn’t wait for a response.
Roxie stirred, bringing her hand to her head and groaning.
“Hey,” he said, leaning closer as she blinked up at him, her blue eyes hazy and unfocused. “Stay still, Roxie. You took a bad fall.”
“I’m fine,” she mumbled, trying to push herself up.
“No. You’re not. Don’t move,” Gavin said, his voice leaving no room for argument. He pressed a steadying hand to her shoulder. “You’re not fine, and you’re going to the hospital.”
“No hospital,” she protested weakly, wincing as she shifted.
“Not negotiable.” His tone softened, but his grip stayed firm.
“No insurance,” she mumbled.
“You have insurance through the club. Anything that doesn’t cover, we will. Don’t worry about that.”
Her gaze flickered to him, narrowing slightly. “Bossy,” she muttered.
Gavin huffed a laugh despite himself. “Dom, remember? That’s the word you’re looking for.”
Roxie flashed him a brief grin.
The wail of approaching sirens cut through the fear and apprehension that seemed to have materialized due to Roxie’s fall. Moments later, paramedics burst through the door, their efficient movements easing some of the worry twisting in Gavin’s gut.
“She hit the wall and lost consciousness,” Gavin explained as they assessed her. “Looks like a cut to the temple and possible neck or back injury.”
The paramedics nodded, securing a neck brace around her neck before strapping her to a backboard. They then lifted Roxie onto a stretcher as she continued to grumble about not needing help. Gavin couldn’t help but notice the way her toned legs looked in the tiny black shorts she wore for class, or how the curve of her waist dipped into full hips. Heat flickered in his groin, but he tamped it down quickly, irritated with himself for noticing.
“She’s Keely’s friend,” he muttered under his breath. “Focus.”
As the paramedics wheeled her toward the door, Gavin followed. “I’ll meet you at the hospital,” he said, locking eyes with Roxie. “No running away.”
Her lips twitched, but she didn’t respond, the grimace that made her shudder betraying her discomfort.
When the ambulance pulled away, Gavin turned back to the studio. The women had mostly scattered, leaving the room eerily quiet. Gavin crossed to the pole that had fallen, crouching to inspect its base.
The mount was jagged, as if it had been pulled free rather than simply breaking. He ran his fingers along the edge, noting the worn screws and the uneven marks on the metal. He looked up—the break was much cleaner. No jagged edge, nothing that seemed torn. Something about it didn’t sit right. Pulling out his cell phone, he took several pictures.
Gavin’s gaze swept the room, his sharp eyes landing on the scuffed floor near the base of the wall where Roxie had fallen. He found small scratches and grooves, as if the pole had been tampered with, shifted deliberately before the accident. More pictures.
“Tampered,” he murmured, the word sitting heavy on his tongue.
Straightening, he took another long look around the room, his gut telling him this wasn’t just a freak accident. Roxie’s protests replayed in his mind, but he knew better. Someone had done this, and until he figured out who, she wasn’t safe.
Gavin pulled out his phone and sent a quick message to Reed: Heading to the hospital. Something’s not quite right.
Sliding the phone back into his pocket, he stepped out of the studio, his mind already turning over the possibilities. He didn’t know Roxie well, but one thing was certain—her world had just become his business.