Page 12 of While She Sleeps

Am I terrified of whatever awaits me on the other side of the door I’ve been standing in front of for the last five minutes?

Also yes.

I was so relieved when Lucas told me someone had requested me in the private room that I didn’t stop to think about how this could be a worse situation than the one I was just in.

For instance, I could have taken sweaty and stinky down without too much hassle, even if it would have cost me my job and maybe added to my debt, but I have no idea how many people are in this room, nor do I know if someone will come running if I scream.

Somehow, I doubt it.

This place may be aboveboard legally, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t illegal things happening within these walls.

When I’m sure I can’t get away with standing here a moment longer, I reach for the door handle and push it open, slipping inside before I can change my mind.

I hover as I close the door behind me, dragging in unsteady breaths as I try to get a handle on my emotions. I’ve always prided myself on my ability to keep my shit together in challenging situations, but tonight is testing the hell out of me.

When I turn around, confusion fills me as I take in the room. The very empty room. Or at least I think it’s empty. The lights are dimmed so low I can barely see a few feet in front of me, and I’m beginning to think that may be by design.

“Hello?” I call out, my voice shaking slightly.

When no response comes, I reach for the light switch to make sure I’m not in the wrong room, which is very possible, considering I don’t really know my way around this place.

“Stop,” a deep voice rumbles before my fingers can flip the switch, and something about the tone has me screeching to a halt, my heart stuttering in my chest.

I swallow heavily and drop my hand, hoping he doesn’t notice how much it shakes. What is it about being locked in a dark room with a mystery man that is as terrifying as it is exciting?

“Good girl.”

The praise hits me in the chest, and I swallow heavily. I can’t think of a time anyone has ever praised me for something so menial. Hell, I can’t think of a time someone has for anything.

I shake off the surprise and move further into the room, watching every step I take as I make my way to the stage. I hope this guy isn’t paying for the pleasure of having me in a private room, because I can’t dance, and if he doesn’t want the light on, I doubt he wants me near the corner where I might be able to make out his face.

“I’m not sure I’m in the right room,” I admit, reaching for the handle. I should check with Lucas because he’ll lose his mind if he finds out I wasn’t where he told me to be, and that’s the last thing I need right now.

“You are,” he says.

“Oh.” The sound escapes my throat before I can catch it, and I roll my eyes at myself. So eloquent, Ember. “You should know I can’t dance.”

He chuckles. “I don’t need you to dance. I just didn’t like those two men manhandling you.”

His admission does something strange to my heart, and my mouth drops open of its own accord. Why would he care about those two assholes?

“If you don’t want me to dance, what exactly do you want me to do?” I ask cautiously. I’m not moving away from this door until I’m positive I haven’t thrown myself from the flame to the fire by walking in here.

Silence greets me, but I don’t ask again. He heard me. And if he doesn’t have a good response in the next ten seconds, I’m hightailing it out of here, and Lucas can deal with the fallout. This isn’t my fucking job, and after all I’ve lost for his business, I’m not risking my safety so he can cash in on whoever the fuck this guy is.

“Take a seat.” It’s not a question or even a request. It’s an order. An order I find myself complying with without hesitation.

I lower myself into the single leather seat by the stage and cross one leg over the other. This is not how I expected my night to play out, but if this is all he wants from me, I’d be an idiot to leave.

“What’s your name?” he asks.

“Ember,” I tell him honestly.

“A pretty name for a pretty girl.”

I roll my eyes and shake my head. Why do men insist on keeping that saying alive? It’s so outdated and dishonest that it almost makes me angry.

Another chuckle greets me from the other side of the room, and not for the first time, I’m tempted to ask why we’re sitting here in the dark.

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