Slowly, I raised my hand to brush a dark lock of hair from her forehead, to prove to myself that she was really here and not a figment of my imagination. Her nose was narrower, and she was an inch or two taller than Katie, but my heart still stuttered.

“My fingers are dirty,” I mumbled as she looked at me quizzically. Her breathing hitched, but she stood frozen in place, wincing as my fingertips brushed over a now exposed fresh scrape. “He do this to you?” I clenched my jaw, fighting the urge to finish what I had started. Had I not let Bryce live, maybe it would really be Katie in front of me today.

She swallowed hard, breaking eye contact. “Doesn’t matter,” she said, her voice thick with sadness as she shook her hair back over the wound. “I would have had worse if you hadn’t butted in. I should go,” she said with a shrug as her arms wrapped around her waist.

I tried not to laugh at her spitfire attitude and her equal lack of sympathy.

“I think you’re in shock.”

“I’m fine.” Her voice was void of emotion, but her face looked terrified. “Nothing shocks me anymore. I was just worried he was…”

“What? Who’d you think he was?”

“Nothing. Nobody.” She shook her head. “That Dream Killer special aired again last night and I think it just stuck in my head. I’m fine.”

“Damn it. Let me help you. Drop the f**king tough guy act.”

Her body froze, aside from a slight tremor. I took a deep breath as I struggled to calm down.

I bit back my frustration. “Let me help you. I can…call someone.”

Sad green eyes met mine, and my chest tightened. I watched her expression go from confusion to appreciation. She had slipped a mask in place, one very much like the one I wore daily.

“You already have.” She glanced toward the man on the ground. “Th-thank you. You’ve done enough.” With that she began walking toward the main road, her heeled sandals against gravel the only sound I could hear over my own hammering heart. It was like a painful flashback into my past, but the pain felt better than the emptiness that proceeded this moment. If it weren’t for the adrenaline rush from a good fight, I’d scarcely know I was alive.

I needed to get the f**k out of there, but I couldn’t walk away. I had done that before, and it had destroyed my life. At least that’s the reasoning I told myself as I jogged after her and grabbed her arm lightly. She pulled free, flinching as if she thought she was going to be hit. I took a step back immediately.

“Don’t go.”

“I swear I won’t tell anyone. I promise. I can take care of myself.” Her words ran together. It dawned on me that she thought I was worried about leaving a witness, or maybe it just seemed that way because it was a real concern.

“Christ, I’m not going to hurt you, and if you could take care of yourself, I wouldn’t have had to save you back there.” It was a low blow for a girl so prideful, but I liked the look of fire in her eyes.

“Save me?” She glanced toward the man and back at me. “I’m not the one who needs saving.”

“The world would be better off without him. Who is he? A boyfriend? Your pimp?” I asked as I looked to her hands that still held my shirt clutched against her chest. Her fingers trembled. There was no wedding ring, and she looked like she was just barely legal. When my eyes met hers again, they were narrowed, and she looked like she was ready to kick my ass. It would have been cute had I not just put myself on the line for her, but I couldn’t hide my smirk.

“No, he wasn’t my pimp,” she spat angrily. “I guess I should consider myself lucky you chose this alley for your drug deals, but I think it’s time for you to go back to your glass house.” Her eyes were wide with anger. “Ride away on your snake, Morrison.”

I held back a laugh at her Doors reference and her awkward attempt to insult me. “That wasn’t”—my voice trailed off as I searched for a way to explain myself, but words failed me—“I wasn’t trying to offend you, and what you saw isn’t what it looks like.”

“I’d love to hear you talk your way out of all of that, but I don’t want to be here when he wakes up.”

“He’s not waking up anytime soon, and he won’t touch you. I won’t let him.”

“Thank you, my junkie savior, but this hooker has some place she needs to be.”

I sighed, my tongue running over the cut inside my lip. “Can I walk you to your corner?”

Her murderous glare made me laugh as she turned and stormed off down the alley, stumbling in her heeled sandals but recovering quickly.

I began walking in the same direction and soon was at her side as she stopped to adjust her shoe.

“Stalking me now?”

“Someone’s conceited.” I ran my fingers over my hair. “I was actually going this way.”

“Oh really? Have another batch of meth to score?” She glared at me, but I saw her eyes glance down over my chest.

“Hostility is not a very attractive quality.”

“Neither is sexual harassment.” She began to walk faster, but I stayed only a step behind.

“If I were sexually harassing you, you’d know it.”

“You’re a regular Prince f**king Charming. This may be hard to believe, but I don’t care what you think of me.”

“If you didn’t care, why’re you so upset?” The sound of a car approaching, its headlights bouncing off the brick exterior, stopped our conversation. I grabbed her wrist and began pulling her between the set of apartment buildings. Our steps quickened, and soon we were jogging as I tried to get my bearings. The last thing I needed was to get arrested in Orlando. We slowed to a normal pace as we reached the next street over. I took my shirt from her hands and pulled it over my head, grimacing as blood from my hand smeared on the collar. My fingers wrapped around her wrist, and she didn’t struggle to free herself from my grip.

Anxiety

Chapter 7—Ella

Anxiety: desire to do something, typically accompanied by unease

My pulse was racing under his fingertips as we walked the perimeter of the building. I was embarrassed that it wasn’t because of what had just happened, but because of how painstakingly handsome he was. His hair was light brown and short but messy, and his blue eyes stood out against his lightly tanned skin. His body was ridiculously toned. He didn’t look like a man you’d picture beating someone into unconsciousness. But I’d learned a long time ago that the most innocent-looking men can be the most vicious. Some of the prettiest people do the ugliest things. Everyone had at least a skeletons or two in his closet.

“This is where I work. You can stop following me now.” I continued along the left side of the building to the employee entrance. As I did, his free hand grabbed the door and held it open. My eyes met his again, and my knees threatened to give out as the pad of his thumb swept over my hand.

“Try to stay out of dark alleys. You never know who is lurking in the shadows.”

I tucked my hair behind my ear as his fingers slid from my wrist. “I’ll do that,” I mumbled as I stepped inside and the door closed between us.

I walked down the long corridor and into the small prep kitchen used to make appetizers. It housed the walk-in freezer.

“You’re late…again.” Maric’s voice stopped me in my path, and I squeezed my eyes closed as I cursed myself under my breath.

“I’m sorry. There was a guy in the alley who tried to get handsy with me.”

He rolled his eyes, and my excuse died in my throat. You could only cry wolf so many times before people stopped listening.

“It won’t happen again.”

“Good. Tonight you can help with the bar and whatever the band needs. The singer is a personal friend of mine, so I expect you to treat him well.”

As he spoke, the door to the bar opened, and in walked the crazy bastard who had saved my ass in the alley.

“Speak of the devil.” Maric’s eyes lit up as he pulled the man in for a quick hug.

“Devil? I prefer God.”

“Jesus Christ, what the hell happened to you?”

“What can I say? I like it rough.” He winked, and my knees threatened to give out. I rolled my eyes as I fought against an audible gagging sound.

“Ella, this is Rellik.”

I struggled to keep from glaring at him.

“Ella.” Rellik said my name as if it were a sin. His lips curled in a devilish smirk as he held out his hand.

“Rellik, as in the guy playing here tonight?” I ground my teeth as I placed my hand in his, the pad of his index finger sweeping over my wrist and causing my cheeks to heat.

“You’re a fan?”

“God no.” Pulling my hand from his, I crossed my arms over my chest.

“Ella is going to be taking care of you, so if you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to ask.” Maric patted Rellik on the shoulder and pushed open the swinging door to the bar. “Ella”—his expression turned serious as he glanced back to me—“play nice.” With that he disappeared, and I was left with the man I tried so desperately to ditch only moments before.

“I love a good plot twist.” Rellik’s grin widened.

“I didn’t really like this job anyway.” I shrugged as I began walking back the long corridor, Rellik at my side. I wanted to scream and flip out. Most of all I wanted to wipe the cocky smirk off Rellik’s ridiculously sexy face. Even with a busted lip, he was f**king beautiful, like a cracked marble statue of a Greek god. Guys like him thought the world turned for them. I hated men like him.

“Why did you help me?” It didn’t make sense for him to risk his freedom over me.

“Because you couldn’t help yourself.”

“No offense, but you don’t seem like the Good Samaritan type.”

He nodded to one of our security guys as we turned right down another hallway. “I’m not.”

I rolled my eyes. “At least you’re honest.”

“That makes one of us.” His hand went to the small of my back to urge me through the doorway before him, and goose bumps followed in the wake of his fingertips. “I think you’ll enjoy the show.”

“Not a big fan of rock music.”

“That so?” He grinned, and I could tell I was annoying him. But that didn’t stop me from rambling on further. Someone needed to knock this guy down a peg or two.

“It’s just loud noise and mindless screaming.”

“I can see why you have a job working with the public. So pleasant.”

“I get that a lot.” I tucked my long, dark hair behind my ear as we made our way down the mint-colored corridor. A few people lingered in the hall. They all smiled and nodded to him, and he returned the gesture as he urged me forward.

“Stay while we rehearse. Maybe you’ll change your mind,” he said simply as a man in thick, rimmed glasses opened a door and stepped back to let us through as I eyed the handle.

“I really can’t. I have a lot of work to do.”

“I could always tell Maric that you didn’t want to help out.”

“You’re an ass**le.”

“I get that a lot.” He mocked me as we entered another hall and continued farther down. The sound of a guitar off in the distance played a slow, haunting tune that gave me chills. “That’s Hangman. He can’t pay attention enough to order a damn meal, but you put an instrument in his hands, and he’s genius.” Rellik smiled over at me. His lower lip was swollen and tinged red. He must have seen my worried expression because his tongue ran over his lip.

“It doesn’t hurt.” He reached out to open a door. The dried blood on his knuckles caused me to gasp, but blood and gaping wounds were nothing new to me. What was more shocking was that someone had gotten those wounds defending me, and I had been nothing but a bitch to him.

“I should clean that for you,” I said, and the corner of his mouth quirked into a smile as he pushed the door open. A man sat across the room on a couch with a guitar on his lap and a cigarette between his lips. His eyes were closed as he exhaled, cloaking himself in a thick haze of smoke. His fingers moved effortlessly over the strings, and I was in awe of his talent.

He had strong, angular features, and his hair was the color of sand with strands of honey throughout that hung haphazardly over his eyes. I inhaled and realized that what he was smoking was anything but tobacco.

“Hang, this is Ella,” Rellik called out. The guy’s red-rimmed eyes shot open, and he smiled. His fingers stopped, and he took the joint from his mouth, relaxing back on the couch.

“You took the time to learn her name. I’m impressed.”

“She’s not a groupie, ass**le. In fact, she hates our kind of music.” Rellik’s voice was laced with amusement.

“Is that right?” The corner of his mouth curled up in a smile as he shook his head. “A challenge.”

“Where’s Phantom and Trigger?” As he spoke, my eyes darted around the room, but it was only the three of us behind a flimsy pressed-wood door.

“Ran to get munchies from the gas station.” He put the joint to his mouth and inhaled as he eyed me curiously. I tried not to stare at the large tribal tattoo that crept over his right shoulder and down his toned chest. He was in shape without an ounce of fat, but not as muscular as Rellik. “You wanna hit this?” he asked with a smile, and I struggled not to roll my eyes at the double entendre. He waved the joint in the air toward me as he exhaled. “It’s medicinal, I swear. It’s the only way I can put up with Rellik.” He winked and I felt my cheeks blush. “Something tells me you might need it.”