Page 1 of Surrender

Chapter one

Serenity

Ijump and let out a small shriek as two arms wrap around me from behind.

I drop the keys to the cafe as adrenaline floods my system, priming me for fight or flight. Just as I'm about to spin around and hit whoever's attacked me, I hear a feminine groan.

"It's so early..." she wails, drawing out the words dramatically.

Goddamnit Ella.

I grimace against the pain in my body caused by the adrenaline. She knows how anxious I always am. Why the hell would she sneak up behind me and scare the shit out of me? It's three AM in the city and I'm a lone girl. She should know better.

I love Ella, but she can be a little dense at times.

I take a deep breath in and out as I try to settle the nausea in my stomach.

Ella dips down to pick up the keys and unlocks the front door to Jammin' Java herself, grumbling something about opening the cafe. Like we haven't opened every day for six months together.

It's summer in DC, but the mornings are still chilly and damp.

She flicks on the lights before shrugging off her sweater and purse and putting them in our little break area in the back.

“Late night?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

Ella recently started dating a local tech millionaire. It's new and exciting and she can't stop talking about it. I'm incredibly happy for her. She had a rough time in foster care, and she deserves all the good things in the world. I just pray he treats her right. Their Cinderella story seems too good to be true and I inherently don't trust anyone with money.

I've never seen a case where money was made honestly, and if it was, it didn't completely ruin a person. Maybe that's my parents talking. Whereas I don't trust anyone with money, they outright hate them.

“The latest… but also the best.” She sighs dreamily.

The part I'm most uncomfortable with Ella, though, is how freely she shares about her budding relationship and their... adventurous sex life. And I get it. The stories she told me would make a prostitute blush. She’s so free and open with her sexuality. Something I could never be. I don't understand half of what she tells me, but I'm happy that her sex life makes her happy.

We prep the cafe in amicable silence, running through our morning routines on autopilot.

Except something starts to gnaw at me. It's the silence. Ella's usually never silent during our opening routine. She's the extrovert to my introvert. And usually, the words streaming out of her mouth are not PG-13.

It's uncharacteristic of her, and it instantly sets me on edge.

“So, tell me about last night?” I prompt.

She looks up from the cash register with a sneaky grin and her eyes twinkling with mischief. “I’m actually not allowed to tell you.”

“What?” My internal alarm system ratches up a notch. If her silence made me nervous, her secret makes me downright afraid for her.

“It’s a secret,” she replies with an almost bashful smile.

“Are you in trouble?” I search her eyes for a sense of what kind of secret she could be keeping and if she’s in any kind of danger.

“Actually…” she says, considering something. "Jason took me to a members-only sex club."

I fumble the empty carafe. "A what?"

"A sex club!" she whisper-shouts. "It's this gorgeous bar, club-type thing with private rooms and exhibitions." My sleep-deprived brain takes in the words but can't make sense of them. Luckily, Ella's used to my social awkwardness and just keeps going. "The members are all super wealthy and thoroughly vetted, so they're not creepers and they're checked for STDs regularly."

I shake my head as if I can clear away some of the cobwebs in my brain and understand her.

"Actually, I wonder if they have an opening for you," she muses.

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