“No, you have to pay at the bar.”
“The bar?” I can barely get the words out, not that it matters over the pounding music. It’s a fast dance song, and the strobe lights are pulsing.
I squint, disoriented, into the foggy club. Someone has started a bubble machine.
Lauren.I need to get Lauren out. My baby sister. I can’t leave her here. Not with him.
Scanning the room for her, I try to stay out of sight. But as the lights flash and the bubbles and fog waft around, I can feel Jaxon’s eyes on me.
I need to escape.
The bouncer is still guarding the door, so I need to find a fire exit or something.
I push through the crowd, praying my stalker hasn’t actually seen me. There’s a glowing red exit sign on the far side of the room. I lose one shoe then another clambering over the couches where people are making out. The thin material of my dress tears.
The floors are sticky under my bare feet as I push through the crowd. I look over my shoulder. I can’t tell if I’m being chased because of the crowd, but it’s too late—I’m already in a state of panic. Someone grabs me and I yelp, my heart in my throat, then I realize it’s just a drunk patron.
I shove out of the fire exit.
Outside, my ears ring in the quiet of the empty alley. I don’t know where I am. Where’s my car? Where’s a street sign?
Behind me, I hear the metallicclickthenbangof the door opening and closing.
It’s him. It has to be him, right?
Male voices. A bouncer yells, “Hey, you’re not supposed to be out here!”
With my feet stinging from the rough asphalt, I hike up my torn skirt and hurry to the street.
“You’re not having a nightmare. You overreacted.” I try to calm myself down so I can get my bearings.
Whatever was in those shots is making me feel lightheaded. Or maybe it’s the panic.
I pat my purse. I have my key and my phone. I’ll just find my car, and everything will be fine.
A black sedan almost hits me as I dart out from between two parked cars down the street from the club. I try to wave at it to go around.
Instead, the door opens.
Run!everything in me screams.
But it’s too late. Huge arms wrap around me.“Mandy.”
It’s Salinger. He’s furious.
Horns blare as other cars maneuver around the sedan. Salinger picks me up in his arms, opens the back door to the car, and practically throws me inside.
The engine roars as he drives off, peeling into an empty parking lot so I can clamber into the front seat.
“I told you…” The deep voice rumbles around the car interior, which feels like it’s closing in on me.
“I needed to go to the grocery store.”
“Liar.” The words brush against my cheek.
I shrink back. His huge hand pins me against the seat.
“Who are you wearing that dress for?”
