Chapter 1

 

Don’t go out 2nite

Not safe

You’ll regret it.

 

Geoffrey rolled his eyes and closed the messenger app. That was creepy and mildly threatening, but some amateurish stalker wasn’t going to keep him from hitting the clubs. It was Friday fucking night and he’d been cooped up in his office all week working on his next brilliant app. Okay, maybe it wasn’t going to top Matinee. Called the best hookup app on the market, Matinee had been little more than an experiment in coding, but it had been enough to firmly pop him into the young millionaires’ club when he sold it.

But this new app, his latest creation, was going to be great and truly help people. If he could get the fucker to finally…

He shoved that line of thought aside and checked his hair using the camera on his phone. He’d called a car to take him into downtown Cincinnati so that he could work his way through the clubs. Closing the app, he did one last pass through his social media platforms. He’d checked in already on Facebook, Instagram, and Snapchat with his nearly three million followers, showing off his carefully selected Burberry button-down plaid shirt and snug-fitting Balmain skinny jeans. A smile tugged at his lips in response to a few of the comments while several of his acquaintances had already checked in, beckoning him to one club or another. He was going to drink and dance his ass off. And just maybe find a sexy hookup, particularly if he was faced with his smug ex, Brendon.

Dropping his head back against the leather seat, he closed his eyes and clenched his phone in his hand. His one attempt at a relationship and it was an utter disaster. He should have known he wasn’t meant to find that kind of happiness. Sure, he had lots of friends and laughs, but he wanted something permanent…something…well, something that was about more than getting off and buying expensive gifts to make people happy.

Ugh. This was not what he was supposed to be thinking about. This was supposed to be about partying and enjoying the fact that he was young and without a care in the world. Outside of his brother, who was at that moment traveling around Europe with a couple of friends as they celebrated their last summer before their final year of college, Geoffrey had no other family.

The car pulled up to the first club on his list, Trouble Maker, a trendy little bar that made great specialty vodka drinks—like the one it was named after—and had a fun vibe. This would pull him out of his funk and get the night off to the perfect start. Thanking the driver, he slid out of the car and shoved his phone into his back pocket, refusing to give his stalker another thought.

He barely got two steps inside when his eyes fell on his usual crew sitting around a circular high-top table. Patrick and Sean were huddled together over martinis while Todd sat opposite them, in trashy, see-through black mesh and without Will—meaning that the perpetually on-again, off-again couple were fighting. Todd was revenge partying and would be utterly smashed before they reached the second club of the night.

A loud squeal pierced the music and chatter a second before a set of thin arms wrapped around him from behind. Geoffrey jerked and twisted as best he could to see a head full of chestnut brown curls. The hugger released him and he was looking into a familiar heart-shaped face with bright blue eyes. Abby…Ashley…Annie…no, he was right the first time, Abby.

“There you are!” she squealed again, releasing him to bounce around and stand in front of him. “Pat said that you weren’t going to make it out tonight.”

“Pat is full of it,” Geoffrey muttered, rolling his eyes. He’d met Abby through their mutual friend Jonathan, but she’d quickly clung to him and started following him on social media so that she could tag along with his drinking because apparently, he was more fun than Jonathan and his friends. Abby wasn’t one of his favorite drinking partners, but he did have to agree with her assessment of Jonathan, who liked quiet, dark little bars with no dancing. Who gets laid in those places?

“Geo!” Patrick shouted when he got within a few feet of their table. He leaned over and grabbed the open chair between himself and Todd, positioning it so that Geoffrey was closer to him. Kody danced up to the table and grabbed another chair.

Geoffrey quickly made the rounds of hugs and cheek kisses before dropping into the chair. A second later, a server set a vodka and tonic water with three cucumber slices in front of him. It was his standard drink when he walked into Trouble Maker. He pressed a quick kiss to Shanna’s cheek and dropped a twenty on her tray. This was how you started a night—your favorite drink while surrounded by familiar faces.

And it was a good night. Patrick and Sean had decided to try living together. Abby was starting a new job in a week. Kody planned to leave for a late summer stint in The Hamptons at the end of the month but wanted Geoffrey to look at a new software prototype he’d built before then. Todd gave a stirring dramatic performance of his argument with Will about Todd’s out-of-control spending habits. More friends checked in online, ready to meet them at their next stop down the block.

“Sooo…G, have you heard from your new BFF? When’s he gonna open up a new club?” Todd slurred. He didn’t miss Sean rolling his eyes as he lifted an arm to flag down a server, motioning for their check. Trouble Maker was getting packed, and it was time for them to move on now that Geoffrey was sitting in the warm, toasty glow of that early buzz brought on by two drinks with little food in his stomach.

He knew exactly who Todd was talking about and Geoffrey didn’t feel like thinking about local billionaire property developer, Lucas Vallois, and his too-sexy group of friends. His own acquaintances had made the insane assumption that he was welcome in that tight-knit group simply because he’d gotten VIP access at the opening of Lucas’s new club, Warehouse. There was also a picture of him floating around, chatting with Lucas and his fiancé, Andrei Hadeon, at the Children’s Winter Gala.

Yeah, he knew Vallois and his friends. He’d even helped them out once. But Lucas would have laughed his ass off if Geoffrey had described himself as their friend. Fuck, acquaintance seemed like a stretch. Those men were so close. It was obvious whenever they were all in the same room that they were banded together and no one could touch them.

Geoffrey swallowed back the swell of jealousy that formed a knot in his throat. They’d all been very nice to him over the past year, but he knew he was an outsider. Always would be. Not their fault. He just didn’t want to be reminded of it.

“I’m not BFFs with Lucas Vallois,” Geoffrey growled, suddenly wishing he had another drink.

“Whatever,” Todd mumbled. “Keep it one hundred.”

God, Geoffrey hated that phrase. He was keeping it real—he just didn’t feel like arguing with Drunk Todd. Drunk Todd sucked.

Patrick gave an audible sigh of relief when the server handed over his check. He quickly shoved some bills inside as he stood. “Regardless, I really miss Shiver…and Gaile was a great place to unwind on a Friday night.”

“And your description of Warehouse was so cool,” Abby chimed in. “He does need to open another club or two. Cincy is just becoming too dull without his touch.”

“Yeah, tell your BFF to open another club,” Todd said. He pushed to his feet and swayed for a second before righting himself.

“Let’s get out of here. I’m in the mood to dance,” Geoffrey said, standing.

With the rest of the bill paid—which somehow ended up being Geoffrey’s responsibility as usual—they left Trouble Maker and wandered down Main Street, heading closer to Over-the-Rhine where they would find Aesthetic AF. The drinks were watered-down shit, but the dance floor was huge and the music was loud. Todd, Abby, Patrick, and Sean accompanied him. At Aesthetic AF, they were met by two more of Abby’s friends—Veronica and Girl with the Crooked Smile—as well as Franklin, Josh, and Mike. Faces and names ran together as he lost himself in dancing.

He forgot about the idea of new clubs. He forgot about Lucas Vallois and his friends. He just danced and laughed. For a short time, the emptiness was pushed back.

Two hours later, Geoffrey stumbled against the rough brick wall in a shadowy part of the club, closed his eyes, and reached for his head. The nerves in his scalp felt electrified, speeding away from his fingertips like code gone wild. The lights strung out into swirling lines behind his eyelids, the music and voices around him blended and rose until they came at him in waves of ear-splitting noise. When he tried to focus, the people twisted into odd shapes, their colorful clothes turning into kaleidoscopes that blinded him.

Nausea slammed into his gut, bending him in half.

This…this was wrong. He’d had two drinks at Trouble Maker and only two more drinks at Aesthetic AF. And that second one, he hadn’t even finished. He shouldn’t feel like this. His tolerance was way higher. He knew it. This was wasted.

Had…had someone drugged him?

He tried to cling to the ripple of fear that started to move through him, but whatever was pumping through his bloodstream washed it away before he could use it to clear his head. He just wanted to slide right down this wall and go to sleep.

Yeah…sleep sounded so good.…

“Hey, baby, you need some help?”

Geoffrey fought to pry his eyes open. He knew that voice. A friend. Someone he trusted. A name skittered through his brain as he opened his eyes enough to catch that concerned smile.

“Yeah, need go home,” he said, or at least he tried to get his lips to form the words.

“Okay, let’s get you home.” An arm slid around his waist and Geoffrey leaned against the other person, tripping forward a couple of steps. “Do we need to tell anyone you’re leaving?”

Geoffrey shook his head, his temple rubbing against a shoulder. He could only concentrate on getting one foot in front of the other as he wove his way through the club. The lights flashed against his closed eyelids and the music that he’d enjoyed just minutes earlier beat against his eardrums. He wanted to get home and into his own bed where he could sleep this off.

A hand shifted to his elbow, helping him into the back seat of a car. Whose car was this? The voices blurred. Talk about names and numbers, but none of it made sense. He was just too damn tired. It was easier to sleep.

 

 

 

###

Oh God…everything hurt. Even his hair hurt. Geoffrey moaned and rolled over onto his side, twisting the sheets even more around his waist. The air conditioner kicked on, sending a breeze of cool air brushing against his sweaty skin, chilling him, but it felt good. He lay still in the bed, concentrating on his breathing and the soft hum of the central air. His house was quiet and dark. He often kept the shades drawn in his bedroom. In here, he liked the dark as if he were part mushroom. The rest of his house was bright and airy, but his bedroom was a den of darkness. His escape from the world.

When the cold air finally started to nip at his exposed skin and harden his nipples, Geoffrey grunted and flopped onto his back, jerking the covers up around his bare shoulders. Rubbing bleary eyes, he blinked and forced them to focus on the digital clock on his nightstand. 12:45 p.m. It was late. Really fucking late. Even when he stayed out and partied until dawn, he was still up and in his home office by ten a.m.

Why had he slept so late?

Ignoring the throbbing pain in his head, Geoffrey sat up in bed and looked around. “What happened last night?” he asked the empty room. The memories were hazy. He’d called a driver, went downtown for drinks, meeting up with several of the usual suspects, and then after some annoying comments from Todd, they went to Aesthetic AF. He could vaguely remember a swirl of faces, but within minutes of getting there, his memories started getting blurry. Too blurry for what he was sure he’d drunk. He was careful. He’d gotten too smashed a few times when he was younger, lost massive wads of cash, and had nearly gotten kidnapped for more money. He’d learned his lesson, was more cautious about how much he drank, always had a number ready to call for a ride home.

But last night…last night was different. The alcohol had hit too hard and too fast. His memories were fuzzy ghosts.

Had someone fucked with his drink?

How had he gotten home?

Geoffrey’s stomach soured and churned as he looked down at himself. He was naked except for a pair of thin silk boxers. He couldn’t remember walking into his home, stumbling into his bedroom, or getting undressed.

Who…who had helped him home?

His eyes caught on a neatly folded pile of clothes at the foot of the bed. The same clothes that he’d worn the night before. There was no way in his drunken state he’d taken off his clothes, perfectly folded them, and then climbed into bed. He was a slob when he came home after a night of drinking. He stripped as he walked through the house and spent most of the next day finding random articles of clothing strewn throughout.

A chill spread through Geoffrey until his teeth started chattering, and it had nothing to do with the air conditioning.

Someone had helped him into a car.

Someone had helped him into his house.

Someone had helped him strip off his clothes and put him into bed.…

Shaking his head, he sucked in several deep breaths through his clenched teeth. It was a friend. Someone he trusted. He couldn’t remember who, but he would remember. He’d been surrounded by several friends and acquaintances at the clubs last night. One of them would have seen him struggling and would have taken him home. One of them would have helped him.

All the same, he found himself tossing back the covers and crossing the room. Wrapping his arms around himself, he walked quickly out of the master bedroom, down the hall, then crossed through the living room and dining room. He winced against the bright afternoon sunlight pouring through all the windows and glinting off the pool as he hurried to the spare guest room. Empty.

He crossed back and up the stairs to the second floor, where there was a second spare bedroom and Finn’s room. Both were empty.

The entire house was unoccupied. He jerked open the door near the spare bedroom on the ground floor to the garage—his cars were there and the garage door was closed. He circled back, prepared to lock the front door…but it was already locked.

Gasping, he backpedaled, staring at the deadbolt. It was locked. He stumbled back to the various doors leading to the back courtyard and patio…the last places the person could have exited the house…and they were locked. How? How did the person who brought him home leave and lock the doors? The only other person who had a key to his house was Finn and Finn was in fucking Europe with school friends.

Panic built in his chest and pounded against his skull. This was wrong. No one else had a key. Where the fuck were his keys? His friend, his savior, wouldn’t have taken his key off his key ring.

Back in his bedroom, he easily found them sitting on the nightstand and his house key was still on the ring. His phone chimed and Geoffrey jumped, causing him to drop the keys with a muffled thump to the thick carpet. With trembling fingers, he reached out to find a new message waiting for him…from his stalker.

 

Good morning, beautiful!

Hope you slept well.

So cute when you’re sleeping…

 

The message was followed by a picture of him sleeping in his own bed. He was stretched out across his sheets, wearing only his boxers. The clock said 4:56 a.m.

The stalker had been in his house. The stalker had been the person to bring him home, to strip him down and put him into his bed. The stalker…touched him.

A muffled clatter rose over Geoffrey’s soft tormented moan. His phone slipped from his numb fingers. He ran through his closet to the en-suite bathroom, barely making it before the entire contents of his stomach came up. Bile burned his throat and his knees ached as they hit the cold tile. With one shaking hand, he clutched the back of the toilet as his stomach emptied itself and then continued to clench in a series of painful, dry heaves.

When his body stopped heaving, he gasped in several gulps of air as he fell back on his ass. Pulling down a fluffy towel, he wiped his mouth. While the heaving had stopped, the shaking wouldn’t. Someone had come into his home, violated his security and privacy. Had this person touched him? Violated him?

Pulling his legs as tightly as he could against his chest, Geoffrey sobbed, the fractured sound echoing in the bathroom to fill the entire empty house as terror ripped through him. His entire body shook, teeth chattering. He felt like he was going to be sick again, but there was nothing left in his stomach and he didn’t want to move from the tight ball he’d curled himself into. He didn’t want to think about what had happened during those hours he’d been unconscious and helpless. Didn’t want to think about the fact that this person had a key to his house. Didn’t want to think that he’d trusted them.

Oh God…he would never feel safe again.