Page 40 of Breaking Free

For once, she didn’t have a sunny, glass-half-full reply and batted away the tears welling in her eyes. He could tell her all day long not to be scared, but he might as well save his breath.

She averted her gaze and said with forced confidence, “I appreciate everything you’ve done. You went above and beyond helping out a neighbor.”

Although she fought to maintain a brave front, her trembling hands gave away her inner turmoil. She clenched them into fists so he wouldn’t see. She couldn’t do much about the little quiver in her voice and glanced up to see if he noticed. Naturally, the PI whose job it was to be observant, saw through her false bravado.

His expression softened. “Your life won’t always feel like a suspense movie. If he keeps harassing you, he’ll make a mistake. They always do. And when he does, we’ll catch him.”

Despite his reassurances, she remained unsettled. Tristan’s kinder, gentler demeanor threw her off-balance. Unbelievably, she missed the grump with his frequently annoyed expressions because this uncharacteristic side of him emphasized the seriousness of her situation.

“It’s going to be okay, Piper,” he said with another neck squeeze. He hesitated, as if he would say more, but didn’t and dropped his hand. “Activate the alarm once I’m gone,” he reminded her on the way to the door.

When the latch clicked shut, she pressed her thumb to the scanner and waited for the series of beeps, signaling the system was armed. Then, as she stood in her empty condo, enveloped in silence, an indescribable loneliness consumed her. She’d give anything for Tristan to have stayed with her, holding her tight in his arms until she drifted off to sleep. She feared that was the only way she would close her eyes until this maniac was found.

Chapter 12

THE WEEK CRAWLED BYfor Piper. If she had a choice, she would have stayed home behind the locks, alarms, and cameras Tristan put in to keep her safe. But hiding in fear wouldn’t pay the bills. She had closings scheduled, and even though filming hadn’t started yet, she had appointments at the studio with wardrobe, hair, and makeup, and table reads began the following week.

Each time she ventured out, her senses were on high alert, her eyes scanning the streets for potential threats. Days went by with no more mysterious notes or other unsettling events. She should have been relieved, but Piper didn’t delude herself into thinking the creep had crawled back under his rock. By Saturday, she was practically vibrating with nervous energy and desperately needed a distraction. She just wasn’t sure Club Decadence was it.

Constantly on edge all week, the last thing she needed was a weekend with more of the same. But Josie was counting on her being there, and she had put in a lot of time and effort into completing their new club wear for tonight.

Resigned to wingman status for her friend, she slipped on the low-cut vest with nothing underneath like Josie had designed. Drawing the line at going commando, she wiggled into the matching micro miniskirt over her panties. Both garments hugged her body perfectly and accentuated her curves, revealingan enticing amount of cleavage and what she felt was her best asset, her long legs—tanned from the California sun. Josie had also provided shoes—the most adorable spike-heeled booties—the entire outfit made from a buttery-soft pale-pink leather.

Stepping back from the mirror, she scrutinized her reflection and grinned at what she saw. No denying she looked hot. If she ran into Tristan tonight and he didn’t see her for who she was—an adventurous, desirable, grown woman—he was a fool.

Traffic slowed her down more than expected, as did parking, and she arrived fifteen minutes late. As Piper hurried up the sidewalk, she spotted her friend pacing out front. She had on a long cape, like something from a Renaissance fair. It billowed around her as she turned, briefly revealing purple lace garters and matching patterned stockings.

It reminded her to pull her knee-length sweater closer to her body. It was an insane thing to wear in ninety-degree heat, but no way would she walk down Beverly Blvd with her boobs spilling out of her top in a skirt up to her armpits. She had dreams of having an IMDb page by the time she turned twenty-eight, not a rap sheet for solicitation.

“You made it!” Josie exclaimed when she spotted her. “I thought you were going to stand me up.”

“Never,” she replied, slightly winded when she reached her.

Together, they turned and gazed up at Club Decadence. The last time, they had parked in the garage and entered through the service entrance. This was her first time seeing it from the street. With its drab gray walls and plain front doors, to say it lacked curb appeal was an understatement.

“It’s so bland,” her friend observed on the same page as her. “No one driving by would suspect a world of kink and pleasure lies behind its uninspiring exterior. But I suppose that was what they were going for.”

Piper released a trembling sigh. Tonight, it was no longer just business—she was a potential member and an active participant. The brief tour had only given her a glimpse. A shiver of dread and anticipation coursed through her at what awaited her during prime time.

Josie’s trembling fingers enveloped hers, revealing she wasn’t as confident as she let on. “Are you ready?”

“No,” was her honest response, but she gripped her hand higher, determined to at least get inside. “If what I see freaks me the heck out, at least I can run in my more sensible shoes.” They both glanced down, comparing Josie’s five-inch heels to her three-inch boots. Piper had learned a while back most men felt uncomfortable looking up at a woman, and she now stood at a solid six feet. But one didn’t wear sensible flats with a miniskirt to a sex club.

“You can’t leave me,” Josie protested. “You’re my wingman and vice versa!”

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