Page 5 of Surrender

I bite my lip but shake my head 'No'. Honestly, I want to be alone. I want five minutes to breathe and try to control my racing mind and heart.

So, with one last, sad look, she leaves and closes the door behind her.

Chapter four

Declan

Iundo my tie and the top button of my shirt as I walk into the club. Sometimes I regret opening this damn place. A lot of the local political scene are members, but those that aren't, try to shut us down. It's a constant battle. I just left a public hearing at the courthouse where locals get to voice their concerns. The religious crowd rants about morality and sin, but the law doesn't give a shit about that. Legally, we're not doing anything wrong, so they can't shut us down. But that doesn't stop people from trying.

The White Envelope is important to me. Human history is a twisted evolution of sexuality. From the fluidity of ancient Rome to the shame associated with it thanks to religion after, to the explosion of the internet and porn, and all of the confusion and judgment that comes from exploring one's sexuality. I wanted to create a safe and judge-free environment where people could explore anything and everything without fear.

So when Daniel and Harrison started talking kinks one night over beers, the idea for The White Envelope formed. It's not a gentleman's club, or a strip club, but a members-only club. Aclub of like-minded people who want to explore the sexual sides of themselves in a safe environment. Named after the white envelope every member's invitation comes in.

It was an overnight success but continues to receive hate mail, negative reviews, and constant public pressure. But I'll continue to defend our right to operate until I no longer can.

Servers and staff bustle around, preparing for opening. I need to blow off some steam. Maybe I'll find one of my regulars and rent a room with her.

Daniel and Harrison will be here soon, too. Maybe they'll have better news for me.

I like to walk the location before openings to make sure everything is in place. When I walk down the hallway to the private rooms, however, room number twelve's red light is already on, indicating it's occupied. I spin on my heel and find Cassidy or Madame Kline, as she’s called professionally.

"Cas, why is room twelve's light on?"

She smiles slyly at me. She's got a secret, this wily one. "It's occupied."

I stutter. "Occupied? By who?" I check my watch. "We don't open for another hour."

"Look, Dec. Do you trust me?"

She knows that I do, but I don't like the feeling that she's playing games. Like she's going to pull the wool over my eyes. "You know that I do. I wouldn't leave The Envelope in your hands if I didn't.

She motions for me to sit at one of the bar stools before making her way behind the bar and pouring two glasses of whiskey for herself and me.

Shit. This really isn't good if she's loosening me up for it. I flick open the top bottom of my shirt and chuck my cufflinks onto the bar top like I'm preparing for a fight.

"We have a new server starting today."

She hesitates, and the suspense is killing me.

"And?"

"And she needed a place to stay."

Fuck that. I stand and march down the hallway, Cas close on my heels. "The fuck she is. This isn't a goddamn hotel."

"Dec!" she calls after me, wrapping a small, manicured hand around my bicep. I throw the door to Room Twelve open so hard the door bounces against the stop. But in the next instance, the breath leaves my lungs. Sitting on the counter, bare feet in the sink, next to the mirror, wearing nothing but a robe, is the most hauntingly beautiful woman I've ever seen. Dirty blonde hair, pulled back in a sloppy bun, wide, panicked, blue eyes, and pouty lips, parted in surprise.

A worn paperback spills out of a large bag next to her on the counter.

It isn't until I take in what she's doing that my anger comes back. She's got a bottle of concealer in one hand and a sponge in the other, and half a black eye peeking out from her cheek.

"What the fuck is this?" I shout, storming over to her to get a closer look. She drops the concealer and sponge and scurries backward along the counter, terrified. I stop and run a hand down my face. Christ, this woman is scared of me. And I can't blame her. A man laid his hands on her less than twenty-four hours ago and I storm in like a fucking hot head. That's always been my problem. Quick to anger, especially when feeling out of control.

I take a deep breath in and out, trying to calm myself down. But when I open my eyes again and see she's shaking like a leaf and tears are gathering at her lower lids, the fight sinks out of me completely.

Cas presses a hand to my bicep again. "Serenity is starting today as a server. She's not safe at home, so I've offered her this room until she can get on her feet. I'll cover the cost of it."

"Fuck the cost," I spit at her, offended she could think I would put money over a woman's safety. I look around the room, noting it's empty.

---