Page 7 of Bullet

“It must be the hair.” There was a quiver in my tone. I flipped my head, trying to hide my face behind the platinum wig.

“Do you want to get out of here?”

Oh god, yes, but not with him. “I’m just here to…just here to dance.” My voice was weak and stuttering.

“Your friend knows how to entertain. Come sit on my lap, Stormy. I want to see how wet I can make you.”

I didn’t know how to respond. “I just want to dance,” I whispered.

“Why are you afraid?” The gravelly edge of his inflection grated over me.

“I…I…” In my gut, I knew he recognized me. I’d existed in the shadow of a powerful man, obeyed hiscommands, and feared his retribution. That had to be the only reason Mars hadn’t figured out how he knew me. Maybe he wondered if he’d ever fucked me. Or maybe I was one of the women he’d hurt.

Eventually, he’d remember. And then Emerson would find me.

Panic overwhelmed me. I needed to get out of here. Now. “I have to go.”

I shoved against his chest, scrambled away from him, tripped over the edge of the stage, and crashed to my knees.

Pain radiated through my legs. In my head, I screamed, desperate to get away. He gripped my arms. Those rough, calloused fingertips grated along my skin. I thrashed against his hold.

“Let me go,” I screeched.

“Easy, baby.” He instantly softened his hold as I stood, but he didn’t release me. “Why are you afraid of me?”

“Stormy.” Bristol’s shriek snapped my gaze at her.

“Don’t scare her,” Devon said to Mars. He snatched up my blouse. Before he could hand it to me, I darted for the door, my heels slipping on the hard flooring. I flung open the door.

“Wait,” Bristol called.

“What the fuck?” Rory said.

“She isn’t feeling well,” Bristol said.

“The girl is fucking terrified—of me.” Mars’s accusations followed me. “I want to know why. Bring her back.”

“Give her a minute,” Bristol said.

I hurried down the hall and rushed into the dressing room. I scrambled to my locker. Nearly four months of living in fear had taught me how to know when I was in danger. Grabbing my backpack, I rushed into the bathroom stall and locked the door. In less than a minute, I’d unlaced the boots and traded them for my slip-on runners. My hands shook as I pulled on a hoodie and stuffed my wig into my backpack.

“Stormy, what just happened?” Jude sounded pissed.

I was out of time. Peering through the crack between the stalls, Jinx stood with Jude, pointing at the stall door I hid behind.

“Bristol said she’s sick.” Jinx fluffed her hair. “Are you okay, Stormy?”

My heart hammered against my ribs. Adrenaline spiked my blood. Skin was the only thing holding me together. I rested my head against the steel door and took three calming breaths. My fingers fumbled with the lock. The door swung open.

“Give these to Bristol for me. Tell her thanks.” I handed the boots to Jinx.

“Where are you going?” Jude asked. “It’s the middle of your shift.”

“I have to go.” My gut clenched. “Tell Bristol I’m sorry.” I wished I could tell her goodbye, but I had to go. I rushed into the hall and headed for the closest exit.

I came to a jarring halt. Bristol stood with the three men and Travis, blocking my escape. Mars slid his hands into his pockets.

“Are you okay?” She tried to step around Travis to get to me, but he wrapped a hand around her arm.

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