Vigilant (21 page)

Davis pushed her shirt over her shoulders and it fell to the floor. He ran his thumbs over the top of her breasts, smoothing her lace-edged bra. “Yeah, I could say the same thing.”

Eager, she brought her mouth to his and pressed her body forward until he fell back on the bed. Ari unbuttoned his jeans and tugged them off, laughing as he struggled to kick them to the ground. She removed her own and when she looked back up, she asked, “Commando?” with a lifted eyebrow.

“I wasn’t expecting company.” He propped his head up against a pillow. “Not that this is an unwelcome complication.”

Ari unclasped her bra and dropped it to the side of the bed and she shimmied out of her panties. He beckoned her forward and she climbed over his body until her face was inches away from his. “You still see this as a complication?” she asked, fighting a moan when his body pressed tentatively against hers.

“God, no,” he said, looking up long enough to flip her over on her back. He ran his fingers down between her legs and she tightened her grip on his back in response.

“Davis,” she whispered. He paid her no mind, kissing down her body, loving each memory, each star. “Davis.” It came out more insistent. She reached down for him, pulling him back up, feeling that he, too, was ready. He was just prolonging her misery. Or ecstasy. Or both.

“Now,” she exhaled into his ear, biting the lobe. She wanted him in her. Now. Just being near him was foreplay enough.

Davis filled her while kissing the star in the middle of her chest before moving to her mouth. He moved excruciatingly slow, his taut muscles rolling with each movement. Her entire body felt alive, pulsing with energy and fire. This man had amazing self-control and he used every ounce of it while they moved together.

Biting her bottom lip, Ari began to whimper, her breath coming short and fast. Above her, Davis’s, forehead creased and a bead of sweat rolled down the side of his face. With a final push, he pressed his mouth to Ari’s, stealing her breath.

With their bodies still connected, Ari whispered into Davis’s mouth. “Thank you.”

He laughed and kissed her mouth, nose and cheeks. “You’re welcome.”

* * *

Ari laced her fingers through Davis’s and rolled so she could see him. “I have a question.”

Davis kissed the tips of her fingers one by one and said, “Okay. Go ahead.”

“I guess I understand why you saved me at the hardware store and from Jace that night. Like why you were there. But what about the club? And showing up in my backyard that night. What was that?”

“Yeah, that was different.”

“Care to explain a little more?” Ari laughed, poking him in his rock-solid abs.

“I didn’t know you were going to be there, I promise. We just decided to go out that night and blow off a little steam. The club loves it when we show up, so it was no big deal. Then I saw you on the dance floor and it was like that feeling? The one in my gut? It just exploded. I don’t think I could have kept my hands off you if I tried.”

“I pretty much felt the same way,” Ari confessed. “I hadn’t felt like that in a really long time. Not even with Nick.”

“Nick?”

“The boyfriend—the ex,” she clarified. “What, you haven’t seen him with me? No offense but you kind of suck as a stalker.”

Davis grabbed her in a playful hold. “I wasn’t stalking. I only came when I had the feeling I needed to. Or well, that one time in the backyard when I was just really, really horny.”

“Ew, really?”

He kissed her hard. “Yeah, really.”

TWENTY

The next night with a magazine lying across her chest, Ari dozed, half asleep on her bed. Her phone buzzed, jarring her awake and two words popped up on the screen:

Meet me.

Davis and Ari only had one meeting place. Passing up her usual club wear, Ari quickly dressed in a pair of jeans and boots. She knotted the oversized t-shirt she wore at the waist and threw on a coat. With her hand on her bedroom doorknob she paused. Oliver and Veronica had been watching a movie on the couch since dinner. Angry didn’t even begin to describe Oliver’s feelings about her late night with Davis and she suspected meeting him again at such a late hour would start a fight, so Ari took a page out of Davis’s book. She grabbed her purse and climbed out her back bedroom window. She almost blew it when she yelped from banging her knee on the windowsill, but managed to close the window without slamming it shut. Ducking past the living room windows, she quietly got in her car and started it without turning on the lights.

Glory’s streets were quiet and the drive to the club only took ten minutes. Since it was still early, the parking lot was only half full. The bouncer nodded at Ari, taking her entry fee and stamping her hand.

“How are you tonight?” he asked. Skinny and pale, he had the opposite look of a standard bouncer. But Glorious wasn’t really a rough club.

“Pretty good. Meeting a friend. You?”

“Eh, another night, I suppose.”

She smiled in sympathy and passed through the door, wrinkling her nose at the familiar smell. Sweaty and dank. Scanning the small crowd, Ari saw Davis hadn’t arrived yet. Did he mean somewhere else? Like the GYC? Even after their previous encounter, that seemed unlikely.

They’d left on good terms, both worn out. Ari could only trust that he’d told her the truth, that he helped those in need. She believed him, but there seemed to be bigger forces going on in Glory City than he revealed.

Ari took a spot at the bar, facing the dance floor and rested her elbow on the sticky surface.

“Want something?” the bartender asked from behind her.

“Just a soda, please.”

“Sure.”

There was still no sign of Davis, but Ari noticed a group of people stopping at the end of the bar. She leaned down to get a better look at the bottle-neck down the row of stools. Maybe he was there? Or one of his guys drawing attention? It wouldn’t have been the first time.

“I’ll be right back,” she said over her shoulder to the bartender. He’d just placed a plastic cup of soda on the bar. Most of the seats were empty anyway so holding one for her shouldn’t have been a big deal.

Ari didn’t need to go far, though. It obviously wasn’t Davis and his crew. All Ari could see was some girl surrounded by a handful of guys. She must have been dressed to kill to get all that attention.

“What’s that all about?” Ari asked the bartender, when she returned to her seat. He looked more the part of bouncer than the bouncer did. Tight black T-shirt. Bulging muscles. Adorable, tip-worthy dimples. She took a sip of her drink. Ugh. It needed more ice.

“Not sure,” he said, running a hand over his shaggy hair. “She’s been here the last couple of nights. She comes with that guy, but then leaves with other dudes. She’s probably hooking.”

Ari frowned. “You let them do that in here?”

“No one’s complained,” he shrugged. “And honestly, I thought they’d be gone by now.”

Ari eyed him for a minute, astounded that he was so laid back about prostitution in the bar. Finally, she asked, “They paid you off, didn’t they?”

He smirked but didn’t reply. Why would he? It was exactly why that crap happened in the first place. People always looked the other way. Ari drained her cup of soda and pushed it away in irritation. She wasn’t one of those people. She didn’t look the other way. She fought for the girls who were left behind, used, and treated like dirt.

“Asshole,” she said, standing up. To her surprise she stumbled, reaching for the barstool for balance. Woozy. “What the hell?” She slapped a hand over her mouth. That was the second curse word in under a minute to slip through.

“Watch it,” a girl said after Ari banged into her.

“Sorry.”

Ari walked down the bar and pushed her way through the group of men. “Move, jackoff,” she said. They argued a little but she wormed her way to the front. The girl faced away from Ari, her thin, pale hand resting on a man’s thigh. She had on a tight black sequined mini-dress and her curly dark hair was off her neck, twisted into a bun. Loose pieces stuck to the sweat on her skin.

“Hey,” Ari said. She ignored the men and reached for the girl’s arm. “Are you okay?”

The man closest to her shot her a look. “Who the fuck are you?”

“Who the fuck are you, pervert?” she shot back. The girl turned and Ari felt her jaw drop.

“Ms. Grant?”

Ari focused on the blurry figure in front of her. Why was everything so hazy? Her stomach hurt but she strained to see the girl clearly. “Shanna? What are you doing here?”

Shanna looked between Ari and the guy. She slid off the stool. “Nothing. Just hanging out,” she said. “You don’t look so good.”

“I don’t feel good either, but we need to get you out of here.”

“You need to back off,” the guy next to Shanna said. “This is none of your business.”

Ari laughed. “You have no idea, man. This is so my business.”

“What? What’s going on here? I thought that guy was your pimp.” He jerked his thumb backward. Ari looked in the direction and through the fuzzy glare, she saw a mop of scraggly blond hair. He flashed his gold teeth.

“Oh shit,” Ari said, stumbling backwards.

“Ms. Grant? What’s wrong?” Shanna asked, holding her up by the arms. Ari paid her no attention. Instead, trying to reason through her muddled mind to figure out how this happened, she grappled for Shanna’s hand and started to pull her away.

Across the bar, Jace Watkinspushed himself off the dark, dingy club wall. The wicked grin on his face produced a shiver down Ari’s spine.

“Run, Shanna,” she said, but her feet no longer worked and her voice sounded strange.

“What? Why?”

It didn’t matter anyway. It was too late. The seconds it took Jace to reach her weren’t enough to get away, even if she had all her faculties. Before she could respond, his face was in hers. He wrapped his hands around her upper arm and squeezed.

“Finally,” he said, his breath reeking of beer. “We can finish this.”

TWENTY ONE

“Go away, Oliver,” Ari mumbled into her pillow. He relentlessly pounded on her door. What the heck? He knew she liked to sleep in on weekends. Rolling over, she seized her head.

“Ow.”

It was then that she realized the pounding came from her ears and above her temple. The room itself was silent.

And dark.

Ari felt her soft pillow and lightweight quilt but pushed them back because her skin felt feverish. “Ugh,” she groaned. Her whole body ached. What was that smell? She sniffed the quilt. The detergent was perfumed and only added to the throbbing headache. Carefully, she sat up and noted the darkness of her room. Usually there was a least a slit of light near the window. Right then, everything was swallowed in black.

Instinctively, she ran a hand under her pillow for her phone but it wasn’t there. Not a surprise since she didn’t remember coming home the night before. She didn’t remember anything past the text message from Davis and slipping out the window. Did she meet him? Did she bring him home? She felt around and wondered who put her in her pajamas. Shorts and a tank top. Ari fumbled in the dark for her bedside lamp, knocking something over in the process. She found the tiny knob on the lamp and turned it, lighting up the room.

“Oh, God.”

Ari was not in her room.

Or her house.

Ari’s heart leaped in her throat and she stood up, letting the sheets and quilt fall to the side.

This was not her room but everything looked the same. Exactly. The furniture and rug under her feet. The painting of four crows hanging on the wall behind the dresser—the one she bought at the tiny art fair downtown. The books on the bookshelf—shelved identically. The antique crystal door knob. Slowly, she acknowledged that not everything was the same. Not exactly. Ari ran her hand down the wall and felt the bumpy surface of cinderblock, not the plaster of her room. And the floor wasn’t hardwood. Under the rug, cold, gray cement peeked out around the edges.

She ran to the wall lined with curtains. Throwing them aside, she cried out when she saw nothing but a blank, solid wall behind them. That was why she didn’t see light. Her heart hammered, competing with the drumming of her headache. She needed to get out of there. Where ever there might be.

Barefoot and barely dressed, she ran to the door, jiggling the knob. Unsurprisingly, it was locked but she persevered, shaking and yanking on the door until it flew open. What she didn’t expect was who was waiting for her on the other side.

Hope.

* * *

She stood before her in tight black shorts and a tighter black halter top. Her hair was braided to perfection and tiny diamonds glittered in her ears. Ari’s missing client held out a tray of food. “Take it,” Hope said. Her eyes listed slightly to the side and her shoulders slouched. A far cry from the firery girl she’d seen a couple weeks ago.

“Hope, are you okay? Where are we?”

The girl shrugged. “Take this and eat. He’ll be down later.”

“Who will be down? And we need to get out of here!”

Hope shoved the tray into her hands and walked out.

“Wait!” Ari dropped the tray of food and rushed to the door, kicking a bottle of water across the room. Hope locked the door with a solid, loud click from the other side. “Hope! Come back!”

The sudden movement brought on a wave of nausea and Ari grabbed her waist, searching for something to vomit into. She found a wastebasket near the dresser and retched until there was nothing left.

TWENTY TWO

Ari woke in bed. The same bed with the funny detergent smell from before, and no light coming from under the curtains. She winced, sitting up. Her stomach and head ached from vomiting. The tray she’d dropped to the floor earlier had been cleaned up and neatly set on the bedside table. Ari grabbed the bottle of water and chugged it, fighting off dehydration. With a mouthful of water, she realized Jace Watkinssat in the corner, rocking lazily, back and forth.

Her mouthful of water sprayed across the bed. “What the—?” she sputtered. “You did this?”

She’d been afraid before, but right then, her veins ran ice cold.

“I got you here,” he said, his gold tooth flashing in the lamplight.