My father, demanding more money.
Taylor, still with that guy when I got home last night, laughing, squealing,so loud. I lay in bed for an hour, staring at the ceiling, trying to drown them out. When I left for work, they were still up. And now? Less than fifty dollars in my account.
Terror sinks its claws into my ribs, a weight so heavy I can barely breathe. The fear isn’t just about money. It’s deeper than that. A creeping, suffocating sense of doom, curling around everything I’ve built, whispering that it’s all going to come crashing down.
And there’s nothing I can do to stop it.
I squeeze my eyes shut, breathing into the bag. Inhale. Exhale. Focus on Arlene’s hand, the slow circles, the steady rhythm.
Then, another image flickers into my mind: hazel eyes, flecked with gold and green.
My breathing slows.
I really liked those eyes. Liked the way they looked at me.
Is he still at the Rum and Room?
He took my mind off everything last night. Would he be up for doing that again? I straighten, pulling in another deep breath. The air is sharp in my lungs, but it doesn’t chase away the lingering tremors in my hands.
Arlene pulls her hand from my back, watching me with a furrowed brow. “Please don’t tell me you have a shift at the bar tonight.”
“I don’t,” I murmur. Thank God. I shake my head and tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “Thank you.” My voice is hoarse, barely above a whisper.
Arlene exhales, her shoulders relaxing a fraction. “What happened? You were all smiles earlier, basking in your after-sex glow.” She takes the crumpled paper bag from my fingers, crushing it in her fist.
“It’s nothing. I just didn’t get enough sleep last night.” I drag a hand down my face and force a smile, but my heart is still racing, the panic lingering like a bitter taste in my mouth. “I’m going to go home, take a long, hot shower, and go to bed early.”
Arlene studies me for a moment before nodding. “Are you coming back in for your coat? It’s cold out here.”
I bite my bottom lip, nodding without thinking. I don’t want to go straight home. Not with Taylor and her bear-sized friend still there, making the apartment feel suffocating. I want to go back to the Rum and Room. I want to knock on my mysterious stranger’s door.
Arlene squeezes my shoulder, grounding me. “Why don’t I just grab your stuff for you? I’ll be right back, okay?”
I nod again, my mind already drifting. I bet his name is something rugged like Axel or Jax—something that fits the way he touched me.
I lean back against the outside wall of the building, shivering as the cold from the brick seeps through the thin material of my shirt. Why the hell didn’t I stay in bed with him? I should have called in sick. It’s something I never do. I could have woken up tangled in those sheets with him.
I tip my head back, squinting into the hazy afternoon sun.
But what’s the point of thinking like this? Waking up next to a stranger wouldn’t have changed a damn thing. I panicked because of a bank alert. I have to think reasonably. Payday is only a few days away.
I just have to be careful. That’s all.
This isn’t the first time I’ve been in this situation.
And it sure as hell won’t be the last.
The back door swings open again, and Arlene steps outside, my coat and purse in her hands. Concern pinches the corners of her mouth.
“I’m sorry about before,” I say quickly, reaching for my things. “I promise, I’m fine. Just going to go home and relax.” I hug my coat and purse close to my chest, but I don’t put the coat on right away. The cold bites at my skin, but it’s a welcome sting—something to keep me grounded.
Arlene’s lips pull into a smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “See you tomorrow.”
“Bright and early.” I take a few steps back, then turn toward the ramp leading to the boardwalk.
The moment I emerge from the side street, an icy gust sweeps in from the shore, slamming into me. I shudder and quickly shove my arms into my sleeves, the wind cutting throughthe cotton of my T-shirt. Ahead of me, the beach stretches out, the ocean a churning, endless expanse. The Wheel rises on the horizon, its towering silhouette flickering with lights against the dull afternoon sky.
I walk north along the boardwalk, weaving between groups of tourists pointing at the casinos, their excitement bright and electric. Couples huddle together in the shore’s iconic rolling chairs, blankets wrapped tight around them as they glide along the wooden planks. Laughter drifts on the breeze, mingling with the scent of salt and fried dough from the nearby food stands.
