Page 52 of Run Little Fawn

A laugh bubbles up in my throat, edged with hysteria. Am I really considering this? Am I actually going to audition to become a stripper just to throw Lucian off my trail? To hide in plain sight and bait him into making a rash move if he's half as possessive as I think he is?

It's insane. It's reckless.

It's quite possibly the stupidest thing I've ever done.

But it just might work.

The Velvet Room is the last place Lucian would ever think to look for me. It's a world away from the quiet, studious librarian he's been chasing, a far cry from the frightened fawn he's been hunting.

He told me I had to become a different person entirely, to shed my skin and transform into someone new...

And now, I'll be shedding my clothes, too.

The thought of the look on his face when he finally finds me makes my mouth pull into a wry smile.

The car pulls up to a seedy-looking motel, the neon sign flickering and buzzing in the fading light. "This is as close as I can get you," the driver says, his voice laced with a hint of concern. As if it's any of his business.

I force a smile, handing him a wad of cash. "If anyone asks, you never saw me. Got it?"

I climb out of the car, my legs wobbling slightly as I adjust to solid ground. The motel looms before me, a cheap, anonymous haven in a city built on illusions and false promises.

The clerk barely glances up as I approach the front desk, too engrossed in his phone to spare me more than a cursory once-over. "How many nights?" he drones, his voice flat and disinterested.

"Just one," I say, sliding a stack of bills across the counter. "And I need a room with a view of the Strip."

He raises an eyebrow, his gaze flicking to the cash and then back to my face. "A view, huh? Gonna cost you extra."

I lean forward, my voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "I'm willing to pay for discretion. No names, no records, no questions asked."

He hesitates for a moment, his eyes narrowing as he weighs the risks and rewards. But in the end, the lure of easy money wins out, and he slides a key across the counter with a grunt of assent.

"Room 214. Checkout's at noon tomorrow. And I never saw you."

I nod, slipping the key into my purse. As I make my way up the narrow, dingy stairwell, my mind is already racing ahead to the next phase of my plan.

The room is small and shabby, the air stale with the ghosts of a thousand forgotten dreams. But it's clean enough, and the bed looks marginally more comfortable than the hard plastic chairs at the airport.

I drop the new bag I picked up on the floor, my fingers trembling slightly as I unzip it and pull out the clothes I bought at the adult store. The burgundy lingerie seems to glow in the dim light, the lace and satin a lurid contrast to the drab surroundings.

I strip off my plain, forgettable clothes, my skin prickling with goosebumps as I slide the delicate fabrics over my curves.

The bra is a bit too tight, the panties a bit too revealing, but that's all part of the disguise, isn't it? I'm not supposed to be comfortable, not supposed to feel like myself.

Next comes the wig, the long, platinum locks transforming me into someone else entirely. I stare at my reflection in the mirror, hardly recognizing the woman looking back at me.

She's a stranger, this Velvet Vixen. A creature of the night, all smoldering eyes and pouty lips and dangerous curves.

She's everything I'm not.

Everything I've never dared to be.

But tonight, she's my ticket to freedom. My chance to outsmart the hunter who's been dogging my every step, to slip through his grasp and disappear into the shadows.

I glance at the clock, my heart skipping a beat as I realize it's almost time for the auditions. I take a deep breath, steeling my nerves as I slip on a coat and head out into the neon-soaked night.

The Velvet Room is everything I expected and more, a garish temple of flesh and fantasy tucked away in the seedy underbelly of the city. The bouncer barely glances at my fake ID, too busy ogling my cleavage to notice the tremor in my voice as I give him my stage name.

"Cinnamon," I purr, the word feeling strange and slippery on my tongue. "I'm here for the auditions."

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