Page 10 of Glorious Sinner

I’d been doing such a great job of hiding, of concealing my emotions, my pain, for such a long time, I was still doing it without even realizing it. Ryan had trained me well.

All this time I thought I was so strong, that I’d broken free, escaped him. I’d been wrong.

He’d been here with me the whole time, in my head, under my skin.

I finished my shift and one of the bouncers waved me down a cab.

“Where to?” the guy asked when I climbed in. I rattled off my address and stared blindly out the window.

My phone beeped, alerting me to a text, and I knew who it was before I even looked at the screen and saw the unknown number.

I liked watching you dance tonight.

He’d been there, at Stilettos. Somewhere in the crowd.

My stomach churned and my skin crawled.

Despite his jealousy, Ryan had liked to watch me dance. I started when I was saving for college. Ryan hadn’t let me go in the end. The money I could make had been more important to him. He’d make sure everyone knew I was his, and then when I got home he’d punish me for flirting with the customers. The accusations and insults, the anger.

“I saw you looking at that asshole.”

“You let him touch you.”

“You wanted to fuck him.”

The cab pulled up outside my apartment, and I stared up at my windows on the fifth floor. He was probably there now, waiting for me. If he wasn’t already there, he’d come for me soon.

Tomorrow.

Next week.

He always did like dragging it out, my fear, the dread of what was coming.

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to keep my breathing steady. I curled my fingers into tight fists, letting my nails sink into my flesh. He wasn’t going to hurt me, not anymore. I wasn’t going to let him.

“You going in, lady?” the driver asked.

I shook my head. “No, I…I’ve changed my mind.”

“You wanna give me an address, then? I can’t read your mind.”

My heart pounded and I let the bite of pain against my palm steady me as I gave him the address I’d memorized. There was only one place I could go. One person who could help me. After the way we’d left things, though, I just hoped he didn’t turn me away.

The windows were dark when the cab pulled up outside Tomas’s townhouse. I knew his address because he’d given it to me. Tomas didn’t give his address to many people. Maybe he was out. Maybe he wasn’t even in the city.

I should have called, I should have…

I bit my lip and squeezed my eyes closed.

God, what he must think of me.

I paid the cab driver and, on shaky legs, took the stairs to the brownstone’s front door. If Tomas wasn’t there, I didn’t know what I’d do. My hand trembled as I lifted it, forcing myself to ring the bell. Nothing happened for several minutes, then a voice came at me through a speaker by the door. “Yes?”

“Is Tomas in?”

“Can I have your name, please?”

“Stephanie…Stephanie Gable.”