“I saw her this morning. She’s pretty badly bruised. Her face…she’s so swollen I almost didn’t recognize her. But they say there’s no broken bones, so that’s good.” I ran my thumb over the back of Rachel’s hand as I spoke, watching it like it was the most fascinating thing in the world. “They’re going to let her out of the hospital this afternoon, or maybe tomorrow morning. They just wanted to make sure she didn’t have any bad effects from the concussion.”

Only the sound of Rachel’s respirator filled the room between the words falling out of my mouth. I couldn’t look at her, couldn’t see that big piece of plastic still attached to her face. So I studied her hand, the pale pink nail polish I’d put on her even though I knew she’d hate it.

“Brent has one of his guys following each of us all the time now. The guy he has on me doesn’t speak to me. He drives his own car and gives me enough space that I don’t feel handcuffed, which is good. But I know he’s there and it bothers me a little, you know. I feel like I have a stalker or something.”

I sat back, a heavy sigh slipping from between my lips.

“I can’t do it anymore, Rach. I can’t work in that place anymore, knowing that any of my clients could be the guy who did this to you. I can’t work in fear, afraid of what might happen the next time I step outside those back doors. I’ve lived enough of my life in fear. I can’t do this anymore.”

I got up and began to pace, tension building in my shoulders almost as if Rachel could answer me and argue with my choices.

“I went on the computer—this hotel where Brent and I are staying has a business center with all these computers—and I looked up the class schedule at the university. They have classes starting soon for this special summer session. I even talked to a counselor and she said it would be a good way to get some of my generals out of the way. She even said I could participate in this work-study program they have, work a job on campus to help pay my tuition. That would save some of the money I’ve put away, make it possible for me to quit the club sooner than I expected.”

I looked over at Rachel, a part of me expecting her to rear out of the bed and refuse to let me leave.

“I think it’s for the best. I’ve just lost my enthusiasm for that place.”

I walked back to the bed and slipped her hand back between mine. I desperately wanted her to wake up even if it was just to argue with me. But I also knew that Rachel would be happy for me. She was my biggest cheerleader, the one person who always seemed to know how capable I was, how strong I was. She was the one who told me I could get my degree even if it took me years to save the money.

You’re one of the smartest people I’ve ever met. If anyone can do it, it’s you.

If not for Rachel, I might never have gotten this far. It wasn’t fair that she wasn’t awake to see me finally achieve my goals.

“I haven’t told Rhonda yet. I think I’ll tell her tonight.”

Rachel’s hand moved between mine. I jumped a little, my eyes quickly flying to her face, hoping to find her eyes open and staring at me with comprehension. They were open, but there was nothing there. None of the light that was Rachel. It was a reflex. A subconscious movement that were part of her autonomous system. That’s what the nurses told me the first time it happened.

I kissed her fingers before laying her hand back on the bed, then stood and touched her eyelids, carefully pushing her eyes closed again so that they wouldn’t dry out.

“You’ll wake again soon. I know you will.”

I walked out, aware of the tall man dressed all in black who immediately set down the magazine he’d been pretending to read and followed me down the hall. I jabbed at the button on the elevator, chewing my bottom lip as I waited for one of the down arrows to light up. He stood behind me and slightly to my right, giving me a respectful distance, but staying close enough to intervene if there was some sort of trouble. It annoyed me, how professional he was being.

“What’s your name?”

He didn’t answer at first. Then he sort of stammered. “What?”

“Your name.” I spun on my heel and faced him. “What’s your name?”

“Brendan Philips.”

“If you’re going to follow me around, I should know your name. Don’t you think?”

“Mr. Stone told me to keep my distance. He said I shouldn’t engage you at all.”

He looked like a kid who just got caught stealing a piece of pie from the night’s dessert. He was even blushing.

“Mr. Stone isn’t the one being followed.”

The elevator doors opened at that moment. I gestured for him to board and he did, holding the doors open while I boarded.

“We don’t have to tell him,” I said after I pushed the button for the ground floor and stood back to watch the numbers move. “But it’ll make it easier when I need you to carry a bag for me.”

“Excuse me?”

“We’re going shopping next. The mall. You’ll look kind of stalker-ish if you just follow me around and don’t bother to help with my bags.”

“Of course.”

I laughed, loving the blush that burned bright on his cheeks. I wondered if it would have been this easy with one of the guys who worked at the club. I kind of doubted it. Brendan gave off the stink of a guy who’d been working this job for just a short time.

“You’ll want to keep up, too. You fell behind in traffic when we left the hotel.”

“You were driving sort of fast.”

“I like to drive fast. It’s one of the reasons I bought that Mazda you’ve been following.”

He inclined his head, a smile touching his thin lips. “Of course.”

The elevator doors opened and I walked off, allowing him to go back to following me at a slight distance. I climbed into my car and started the engine, giving the accelerator a little kick, allowing it to rev with that happy little sound big engines on small cars liked to make. I watched as he climbed into his car, then I took off, not really giving him time to adjust his mirrors and do a safety check before he put the company SUV into gear. I was actually laughing as I sped toward the exit of the parking lot.

And then I saw his window explode.

A man on a motorcycle drove almost casually by Brendan’s SUV and fired a single shot through the driver’s side window. The window exploded and Brendan’s head jerked to the side.

Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!

I pressed on the accelerator and raced around the car in front of me, getting out of that parking lot as quickly as I could. But even my small, fast car was no match for a well-tuned motorcycle. The shooter followed me, coming up alongside my car, pointing that gun right at my window. I screamed, pressing the accelerator even harder. But then I had to slam on the brake as another motorcycle appeared in front of me. And one came up along the other side of me, one behind me.

There were four…five…seven. Seven motorcycles surrounding my car as I tried to make my way through traffic.

I didn’t know what to do. The gun had disappeared, but the shooter was still right beside me, keeping up with me despite the traffic and the start and stop motion we were making. I couldn’t speed up because of the motorcycle ahead of me. I couldn’t slow down because of the one behind me. And I couldn’t go around because of the three or four alongside of me.

I fumbled in my bag and pulled out my cell phone, dialing Brent’s number. But just as I heard his voice mumble something over the miles between us, I was forced to slam on the brake again. The phone slipped from my hand and slammed into the passenger side floorboards, too far away for me to reach over and pick it up.

I was chewing on my bottom lip so hard I could taste blood. I saw a potential break in the pattern and accelerated toward it, but one of the motorcycles came out of nowhere and I had to slam on my brakes again. I thought about just running them down. Anyone could see what they were doing, how they were harassing me. No one could blame me. But I was already on probation. Another charge and I would never have my record expunged.

Slow and steady. I managed to get them to turn toward downtown, managed to get them to allow me to travel in the general direction of the hotel. They didn’t seem to want to hurt me. They were just harassing me, making it clear that they were here and they knew who I was.

But they’d killed Brendan! Why had they done that?

Just as suddenly as they’d appeared, they were gone. A block from the parking garage beside the hotel they just peeled away, disappearing into traffic. I stepped on the accelerator and flew into the parking garage, not stopping until I was in the spot that was reserved for the penthouse. I was shaking, afraid to stay in the car but afraid to get out.

A sound behind me forced my hand. I jumped out of the car and ran to the elevator, barely managing to pull my card key out of my bag to activate the penthouse option on the elevator’s keypad. I was finally safe stuck inside that damn metal box.

The elevator stopped at the lobby, picking up half a dozen people, all of them in business attire, some with roller suitcases dangling from their hands. I stepped back to make room, chewing my bottom lip again in an attempt to look calm. To appear normal. We stopped at nearly every floor between the lobby and the penthouse until I was left on the elevator with a single person, a man in an expensive suit who looked to be about Brent’s age. I even tried a smile, thinking I was safe. I was going to be okay.

I moved close to the doors, jabbing my finger against the penthouse button even though I knew simply touching it wouldn’t do any good. The elevator began to move again, a little jerk pulling us upward.

“You think you’re safe now, don’t you?”

I started to turn, thinking I must have heard him wrong. Something hard and heavy pressed against the small of my back as he pressed a hand to the back of my head to keep my eyes forward. His mouth was close to my ear, his words so low that I would have been the only one to hear him if anyone else had been on the elevator with us.

“I know who you are, Dane Walters. I know you work at Highland, that you entertain your clients under the name Scarlett. I know you were Rachel’s best friend. I know you go to see her every day at the hospital. I’ve been watching you for a long time.” He jerked the heavy object against my back, the shape of it making it obvious to me that it was a gun. “Imagine my delight when I realized that Brent Stone had taken you as his lover. Such a convenience!”

The elevator slowed to a stop as it prepared to open its doors on the penthouse floor.

“I know where you are. I know how to get to you. Nothing he can do will stop me from doing to you what I did to Rachel, what I did to all those girls. You tell Stone to back off and leave my club brothers alone, or I will come after you. And he’ll be picking up what’s left with a fucking shovel.”

The elevator doors opened and he shoved me forward, causing me to stumble. When I managed to right myself and turn, the doors were already closing. He lifted a hand in a conceited wave, the gun nowhere in sight.

“Have a good day, Ms. Walters.”

Tears were streaming down my face. I turned and rushed to the door of the room I shared with Brent, letting myself in with the keycard and slamming the door quickly and resolutely behind me. But that didn’t feel like enough. It didn’t feel safe enough. The room was so big, so many places for a man to hide! I walked around, panic building in my chest with every step. They could find me here! They could do unimaginable things to me here! And no one would ever know, no one would hear a thing!

The image of Brendan’s window exploding played over and over again in my mind and I knew…God, they could do that to me! And that would probably be the best-case scenario. I had a wild imagination and it went crazy with the things those people could do to me. They’d make Curtis look like an eager puppy dog in comparison.

The bedroom was slightly smaller than the sitting room, a little darker. And the closet was small, a mock walk-in with doors that slid on a track. I crawled in there, pushing the door closed with my foot. I looked around, initially searching for a weapon. But then I realized the low bar designed to hold hangers would fit perfectly in the door’s track, blocking anyone from the outside from opening it. And the longer one would make a perfect club to smash someone’s head in.

Only then could I breathe. Only then did I begin to feel like I might make it through the next hour. And that was good enough.

For now.