Chapter 3

Three

Stella

M y hand drops to my abdomen and I rub the puckered scar two inches to the right of my pelvis bone.

Willam's eyes track my movement and the cruel laugh that peels from his lips sends chills through my body. "Is that how you should speak to the first love of your life?"

He tsks at me like I'm a child who needs correcting.

Malice drips from his metaphorically forked tongue.

I'm not a malicious person but this one time I wish the floor would open up and the devil would pull this snake back into the pits of hell where he belongs.

I scrunch my nose in disgust. "First love? You mean the nightmare I barely escaped, right? You'll never be any woman's true love," I retort hoarsely, barely containing the need to drive the nearest sharp item through his heart. Past fear, regret and bile burn my vocal chords.

He takes a step in my direction, sending a wave of fear crashing over me. Dread drops into my stomach.

My hand flies up as if I can snatch magical powers out of thin air to send my trash flying out of the nearest window.

I'm not that fortunate.

"Stay the fuck away from me," I warn. I have zero defenses against this asshole, but I'm not beneath tearing my stiletto off and using it to make him bleed.

William's eyes narrow on me. Arrogance pulls the bastard's shoulder back and forces his chin high. Like his body is physically saying, "how dare I tell him what to do."

For every step I take in reverse, the snake who tried to off me in the dead of night two years ago slithers closer. My vision blurs and I'm right back to the night I nearly died because of this man's greed, rage and lack of respect for another person's life.

I glance around the lounge to see who I can put between me and my psycho ex but it seems everyone is gone. Even the freaking bartender is nowhere in sight.

A blonde clings to his left arm while another snuggles into his right. Both look at me like they want to fight me for the right to have him all to themselves.

I make eye contact with them. "He's all yours. Be warned though, if you have an ounce of decency in your bones, he will try to cut it out of you and then leave you bleeding out on the kitchen floor. Ask me. I have the scar to prove it."

Both blondes drop their attitudes at the same time and look up at their date with disbelief.

"Baby, she's lying, right?"

I snort. "I wish."

"You little lying bitch." Fury washes over his features. The black of his pupils fade into the darkness of his irises. I can't believe I thought he had sexy eyes at one time.

"I'm lying, huh? Sure. Check the police reports. Ask Detective Lafleur from the New Orleans police department how untrue all my blood on the kitchen floor was. Or how unreal my hospital stay was."

"They didn't find anything and never will."

I take another step back to put more distance between us from the spiteful man looking to ruin me in every way he can think of.

Baby blues swing up to Lucifer in human form. "William, baby. What is this woman talking about?"

Baby? My stomach rolls.

"Nothing you need to worry about. She's just jealous I didn't want her dirty pussy. Moone blood is trash, and she knows it."

His old insult doesn't sting as bad as it used to. I guess I made more progress than I thought with therapy. Which is great given the price tag that came with the hospital bill and scar.

One of his unfortunate dates keeps her pouty face toward William while the other lady nails me with a look of fake pity written all over her dolled-up expression.

"It sounds like you just weren't woman enough to pleasure a man like our William.

Whatever. I'm so over this night. "Yeah. sure. Think on that while you're getting your insides put back in by an E.R. doctor."

The only thing keeping me on my feet right now is sheer determination and fake bravado. Every red blood cell I possess in my veins quivers with renewed fear. I swallow it.

I focus on keeping the tears burning the edges of my eyes from falling. I will not let them see me weak. I can cry later.

I turn on my heel feeling proud of myself for not kneeing the asshole in the balls so hard he tastes his own nutsack when a harsh grip wraps around my arm.

"Where the fuck do you think you're going? I didn't give you permission to leave. And you sure the hell don't turn your back on me."

I whirl in shock that this fucker would actually lay a hand on me again.

An ache filters into my chest and leaves behind a pain I remember all too well. The smell of copper. The cold kitchen floor. Worst of all was the soul-deep betrayal. I thought he loved me. I knew down to my soul this man was the one for me. Or I thought I did. I gushed to my mother about him. And then…

It doesn't matter. I was a fool in the end, and I nearly paid for it with my life.

I swallow the putrid ball of fear clogging my throat. Roots try to take hold and spread throughout my body, but I fight them back. He can't win again.

Do not show fear. I push back the fringe of blackness edging into my vision.

Rage fires through me. "Get your filthy hands off me, William," I seethe, feeling the fierce anger of a thousand avenging angels coursing through my veins and lending me their strength.

I try to wrench my arm from his death grip, but no matter how hard I pull, his iron fingers only tightens further. Bruises will show up on my fair skin by morning. The thought of wearing his disgusting fingerprints on me for days to come shoots red across my vision.

"You don't get to leave until I let you. It's laughable you're here. Who the fuck do you think you are? I thought I taught you trash doesn't belong in my world. No one in this place wants to touch your filthy cunt."

His dark eyes gleam with twisted glee.

I don't remember the exact thought process in perfect sequence that has us suddenly surrounded by the club's security. One minute his face is in mine and I smell the stench of his aftershave. In the next, my palm is smeared with his blood.

I take particular satisfaction in the juicy sound of his nose cracking.

I wince at the pain on his face, but not out of pity. Out of sheer pleasure and a gross amount of satisfaction.

A sudden calm comes over me. Ice cold control purges the fire in my system.

William stumbles back and catches the bar's hard corner in the ribs. Serves him right.

"You fucking bitch." His face turns a nasty red and his words come out slurred with pain.

"Ouch. Poor baby." I turn an icy look on his dates who look mortified for a man they only think they want to be with. "You should run while you can," I urge, but neither of them budge. Instead, they can't stop looking at me like I am the insane one.

Fools.

I shrug. "Or don't. Be as stupid and blind as I was. He doesn't love you. He wants to dominate you, control you and the second you don't please him he will throw you away and use his fancy legal license and contacts to make sure he looks like the victim."

All I get in return is a sneer.

Sometimes you just can't help people no matter how hard you try.

I hear Williams roar of rage before I see the beefy fist coming at me. William's expression is murderous. Catching him off guard with an uppercut is one thing, but a full on toe-to-toe fight is a whole other situation I am not prepared for. Self defense lessons prepared me for a lot, but not this. My eyes dart around the lounge. There's no time to move. I have tables spread out behind me, more to my left and a solid bar and stools to my right.

I sense a presence beside me but I don't take my eyes off the devil's puppet coming at me.

But it doesn't come. A large hand fills my vision, grabs William's and suddenly everything moves in a blur. Wood cracks then there's a bleeding William laying on top of broken tables.

I back away, wanting only to find the nearest exit and fade into nothing from embarrassment. Tonight was about rediscovering my sexuality and setting my inner woman free. The second I get home I never want to leave.

"Step back ma'am." A large figure walks past me to loom over a stunned and whimpering William.

The bartender, my stunned mind realizes. He holds a hand up, a finger pointing directly at me. "Don't leave. We need to talk."

"You. Your name. Proof of membership."

Shit. Shit. Shit.

If my feet didn't refuse to move, I would already be out of here. The bartender keeps rattling something off to William, but my mind is focused on how to get as far away from here and him as possible.

How the hell am I going to explain this to Luna? She'll put me under a twenty-four-hour guard after this. Good luck with finding any privacy now. She won't let me out of her sight after this.

More men dressed identically to the bartender surround me. The eyes of members are on us. I finally know what my heroine feels like when I write them into a corner and they want nothing more than to die where they are standing or let the floor swallow them whole out of mortification.

I swallow thickly.

"Ma'am."

My brain clicks back online. "Excuse me?" Shit get it together, Stella.

"Do you want to press charges? If you do, we will need you to stay. We'll take you to the offices and have the authorities here within a few minutes to get the process started."

William's eyes narrow on me. He back on his feet and fixing his cufflinks like this is just a misunderstanding all the while glaring at me.

Old feelings come back. Fight or flight instincts take over. I didn't beat him the last time I went toe to toe with him. And tonight simply proves it is easier to just walk away.

My hand falls back to my scar. I can call Detective Lafleur in the morning. She can do a follow up. She can handle all this.

"No," I answer, proud of my even tone. No matter how much I want William to turn into a pile of ashes, I want out of here and away from every prying eye more. Mortification and bewilderment that this escalated to where everyone on the first floor of Club Sin has stopped to look at us has me glowing red. William will get his comeuppance another way. The second Luna hears about this she will figure a way to orchestrate his death in the most gruesome way possible. She said as much if he ever laid another hand on me.

I suck in a deep breath. "I was just leaving. No charges," I confirm.

The security guard on my right lays his hand on my shoulder. I know he means well, but I don't care to be touched right now. I shake it off, grab my clutch and turn. My fingers shake to the point I drop the small hand-held bag, spilling the contents.

"Shit!"

The guard holds a hand up. "It's okay." He stuffs everything back inside and hands the thing back.

The bartender pulls a phone out similar to the one Lavender gave me. Someone on the other line says something and then he juts his chin toward the two guards at my sides. "Get her out of here. Use passage B."

"Ma'am this way." I expect them to take me to a back office so they can detain me while they call the authorities. Instead, Lavender comes out of a hidden door made to look like part of the mirrored wall. She holds a hand out and I take it, letting her usher me into an empty corridor.

Passage B. I hurriedly step through leaving behind the neon lights and nosy onlookers. After tonight, I'll never be able to step another foot in this place. So much for living it up and getting experiences to write about.

"Follow me." Lavender walks, the soft click of her heels urging me to keep up. I fall in behind her, my hands gripping my evening bag like it's a lifeline keeping my nerves from falling apart all over the black marble flooring.

I look around. Two-way mirrors line either side of the hallway that extends through multiple rooms. This is how all the hostesses and security guards move from room to room so quickly.

Soft white light clicks on as we move deeper into Club Sin. Unsuspecting members continue their night of lust unaware anything is going on around them. A curated experience I wish I could have tasted before reality took over.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to cause a scene." Lavender pauses, takes out a set of keys and shows me through another door. This one opens up into a lobby of some sort where on one side is a black door with exclusive members only etched into a gold plate. On the other side is an elevator door and my way out of here.

"You're not the only one who has to come to Club Sin and run into an ex. It happens often enough we have a protocol for it."

"Passage B."

"Mmm-hmm," she hums softly.

That is a very light explanation of what just went down. But I can't find the energy to tell her the full back story about my wanna-be-murderer ex-boyfriend. I just want to get home, take the hottest shower of my life and figure out how fast I can move out of Seattle. I have no idea where I will go, but the Pacific Northwest obviously wasn't far enough to get away from William. Maybe I'll try South Africa since the moon is not an option.

I step up to the elevator, but turn just as the doors open. I grab Lavender's hand.

With the help from the elevator's light, I can finally see why she has such a unique name. Her irises bounce between light blue and slate gray like my sister's. If the light catches her just right it appears as if she has purple-colored eyes. I let my mind focus on that and what I'm going to say to help fight back the tears.

"Thank you. Tonight didn't go as planned but I am still grateful for your help."

"Don't let this scare you away, okay. This elevator will take you to the ground level where a taxi is waiting for you already."

With that I take a couple of steps back and watch her leave the lobby the same way we came through.

Silence surrounds me. There's not another soul.

All the pent up air tightening my chest leaves on a heavy sigh. My vision blurs as the elevator door slides closed.

"I don't want to be alone forever." A burst of pain slides through my chest.

My shoulders droop. Nearly all the strength and sheer willpower holding my knees in place falter. I lean forward, pressing my forehead against the cool steel and just let the tears fall. It takes way too much energy to hold them in.

I'm cursed to stay a virgin forever.

"Don't cry, beautiful."

My head jerks up. Shiny metal doors reflect three massive men taking up the entire space behind me.