She nodded.
“Answer me with the truth and I will. Am I in danger?”
“No. You’re not.” She shook her head to emphasize. “You’re so very not.”
I didn’t keep my promise.
After making a quick trip to the dressing room to ditch my minuscule weaponries which would raise questions should I be frisked, leaving only my all-purpose knife tucked in my boot, I freshened up—don’t ask mewhyI was freshening up—and headed straight for the Chill Room upstairs.
The Chill Room was where the wealthier customers who came in groups and wanted to party privately, or have an unconventional business meeting—talking figures while a stripper rubs her tits in your face kind of unconventional—went whenever they dropped in at Empty Cage. The stairway to the Chill Room was on the opposite of the stairway to Chad’s office. And the strippers had no business climbing these stairs unless they were requested by the occupants of the Chill Room.
But I was requested, wasn’t I? By the boss himself.
I was shocked to find there were no securities standing guard outside the door. The hallway was ominously isolated, as a matter of fact, with only the thumping club music vibrating through the walls.
Stopping at the door, I took a deep, prepare-for-the-worst breath, before turning the doorknob.
Chad’s presence was tangible, commanding, dominating. Sitting upright on a long sofa banquette that stretched along the walls around the room, his feet were splayed apart, palms resting flat on his knees, shoulders squared, eyes staring straight at me.
He appeared so…kingly. Like he owned the damn universe.
It took a minute for my eyes to adjust, as the Chill Room was all red. Red walls with red, suede sofa banquette running along the walls, red carpeting and red lighting. And at a more intimate level, the music volume was lower than the rest of the club.
When my eyes adjusted to the all-red theme, I closed the door behind me. Quietly.
“Hello, Blood.” His voice was so fucking deceiving with its smooth, soothing, caressing waves. He was a monster. And a monster had no business sounding like that.
So unfair.
“You wanted to see me?” I said, skipping the fake pleasantries.
His smile broke through the red glow. White and blinding. And it reminded me of a slim sliver of light I used to chase in the dark when I was younger and imprisoned.
That white smile of his was…promising. It moved something inside me. It whispered words to my soul in a language my mind didn’t understand.
“You made me an offer. You forgot?”
There were things happening in my body now. Things only women made me feel. Not men. Men made me feel nothing but disgust.
But just like that night in the parking lot, I was being undermined and overpowered by these…things. Reason and purpose were being shoved out the back door, while insanity and irrationality snuck right in.
No. Fuck. No.
“That offer has long since expired.”
It wasn’t. That offer was never a part of my act; it was never fake. That offer was very real when I made it. An expiration date? What expiration date?
But it would be stupid of me to throw caution—and my freedom—out the door just to get fucked by the first and only man I’ve ever desired.
Head tilted to the side, that damned smile still on his face, he said, “Is it?”
“It very much is.” I turned to leave. “Now, if that’s all you called me here for, I’m just gonna g—”
He was faster than me. Like a vampire with super-speed, he was at the door before I could even open it. “Renew it,” he ordered.
My heart thudded. Once. Everything on pause. “What?”
“Renew the offer.”