Chapter 1
“She wasn't like the other one, willing to fuck for some extra cash, so I gave her some incentive by way of a roofie in her water.” He paused, then added, “Bitch never knew what hit her.”
I couldn't breathe. My chest was tight, the pressure on it nearly unbearable, but there wasn't anything I could do. I wanted to move, but I was frozen to the spot, forced to listen as my boyfriend continued.
“Still has no clue that the guy she's been fucking drugged her. Dumb cunt actually believed the story that she was pass-out drunk.”
The memory swirled back to me… waking in Reed’s room the next morning, him claiming I’d been drunk and had passed out. At the time, I knew it couldn’t be true, but hadn’t questioned it. I'd been too flustered from being in Reed's bed.
Anger flared inside me, hot and bright. It burned away my paralysis and I stormed from the bathroom, crossing into to the main room but froze as I watched Julien land a solid right hook to Brock's jaw. Brock dropped to his knees.
“You fucking bastard!” I heard Julien say, but barely registered the words.
Still on his knees, Brock looked straight at me as he rubbed his jaw. I noticed a drop of blood from the side of his mouth but all I could think about was his words: “Bitch never knew what hit her.” I felt tears in my eyes and pushed them back, blinking furiously. I didn't want Brock to think I was crying over him. I wasn’t. These were tears of rage; I’d never been more furious.
I took a step toward him. I didn't know what I was going to do, but I knew I wanted to hurt him, wanted to tear him apart. It didn't matter that he was bigger than me and probably didn't have any qualms about hitting a woman. He'd been prepared to rape me. Who knew what else he was capable of? He probably didn't see it that way. I was just a stripper after all. Nothing more than a whore who sometimes didn't put out.
A hand closed around my wrist and I struggled against it for a moment before I realized it was Julien.
“He's not worth it,” Julien spat the words out. His bright blue eyes were shining with something I hadn't seen in them before. Indignation. Not annoyance or even just the disgust he'd had the other nights Brock had done something stupid. Julien was beyond pissed and it transformed his normally easygoing features into something sharp and fierce. If he hadn't been on my side, I'd have been a little frightened.
“You're seriously going to ruin years of friendship over her?” Brock's hand was still at his jaw as he struggled to his feet. “You don't even know her.”
“But I know you,” Julien countered. He was still holding my wrist, but now I was the one holding him back. He was pulsing with anger and I could feel his muscles contract with the need to hit Brock again. “I know about the girls in college who claimed you got a little too friendly. Never quite crossed that line with them, did you?”
Brock didn't even look at me. “Come on, Julien. She's a good lay, but she's not worth breaking ties with me.”
I ground my teeth together, too furious to even speak.
“Get out, Brock,” Julien said. “And I don't just mean out of the apartment. Get out of Vegas. I don't want you to be in the hotel when I get back.”
“You can't–”
Julien took a step forward, his eyes narrowed. Brock stumbled backwards. “Remember what you said about my dad always having the biggest yacht? Well, it's still true. You might be a big-shot in Philly too, but my family's got ties everywhere. You don't want to cross me.”
Brock sneered. “Never thought I'd see you start throwing around the family weight.”
Julien didn't answer, but I supposed the stony silence was enough. Brock just looked at him for a few seconds longer, then left, slamming the door so hard that the faulty latch didn't catch and it banged open again.
I didn't care about that though. The enormity of what just happened hit me full force, and I felt my knees start to
“She wasn't like the other one, willing to fuck for some extra cash, so I gave her some incentive by way of a roofie in her water.” He paused, then added, “Bitch never knew what hit her.”
I couldn't breathe. My chest was tight, the pressure on it nearly unbearable, but there wasn't anything I could do. I wanted to move, but I was frozen to the spot, forced to listen as my boyfriend continued.
“Still has no clue that the guy she's been fucking drugged her. Dumb cunt actually believed the story that she was pass-out drunk.”
The memory swirled back to me… waking in Reed’s room the next morning, him claiming I’d been drunk and had passed out. At the time, I knew it couldn’t be true, but hadn’t questioned it. I'd been too flustered from being in Reed's bed.
Anger flared inside me, hot and bright. It burned away my paralysis and I stormed from the bathroom, crossing into to the main room but froze as I watched Julien land a solid right hook to Brock's jaw. Brock dropped to his knees.
“You fucking bastard!” I heard Julien say, but barely registered the words.
Still on his knees, Brock looked straight at me as he rubbed his jaw. I noticed a drop of blood from the side of his mouth but all I could think about was his words: “Bitch never knew what hit her.” I felt tears in my eyes and pushed them back, blinking furiously. I didn't want Brock to think I was crying over him. I wasn’t. These were tears of rage; I’d never been more furious.
I took a step toward him. I didn't know what I was going to do, but I knew I wanted to hurt him, wanted to tear him apart. It didn't matter that he was bigger than me and probably didn't have any qualms about hitting a woman. He'd been prepared to rape me. Who knew what else he was capable of? He probably didn't see it that way. I was just a stripper after all. Nothing more than a whore who sometimes didn't put out.
A hand closed around my wrist and I struggled against it for a moment before I realized it was Julien.
“He's not worth it,” Julien spat the words out. His bright blue eyes were shining with something I hadn't seen in them before. Indignation. Not annoyance or even just the disgust he'd had the other nights Brock had done something stupid. Julien was beyond pissed and it transformed his normally easygoing features into something sharp and fierce. If he hadn't been on my side, I'd have been a little frightened.
“You're seriously going to ruin years of friendship over her?” Brock's hand was still at his jaw as he struggled to his feet. “You don't even know her.”
“But I know you,” Julien countered. He was still holding my wrist, but now I was the one holding him back. He was pulsing with anger and I could feel his muscles contract with the need to hit Brock again. “I know about the girls in college who claimed you got a little too friendly. Never quite crossed that line with them, did you?”
Brock didn't even look at me. “Come on, Julien. She's a good lay, but she's not worth breaking ties with me.”
I ground my teeth together, too furious to even speak.
“Get out, Brock,” Julien said. “And I don't just mean out of the apartment. Get out of Vegas. I don't want you to be in the hotel when I get back.”
“You can't–”
Julien took a step forward, his eyes narrowed. Brock stumbled backwards. “Remember what you said about my dad always having the biggest yacht? Well, it's still true. You might be a big-shot in Philly too, but my family's got ties everywhere. You don't want to cross me.”
Brock sneered. “Never thought I'd see you start throwing around the family weight.”
Julien didn't answer, but I supposed the stony silence was enough. Brock just looked at him for a few seconds longer, then left, slamming the door so hard that the faulty latch didn't catch and it banged open again.
I didn't care about that though. The enormity of what just happened hit me full force, and I felt my knees start to
Similar Books
