Page 4 of Salacious Devotion

I nod. “I get it. The first night at any club can be daunting, even if you’ve already belonged to others.”

“Especially submissive women,” Drake adds.

I take another sip from my glass, set it on the end table next to the loveseat, and sigh. Maybe this was a bad idea. I can’t even bring myself to drink. I’m horrible company.

“How’s the security business?” Drake asks.

“It’s good.”

“You’ve been working your ass off lately,” Easton says. “You should take some time off.”

Time off… What a concept. What would I do? Go on vacation? The idea makes me smirk.

Easton glances at the monitor and winces. “Damn, she’s green.”

“Think we should be concerned? Maybe one of us should go down there and check on her,” Drake says.

I’ll do it. I stand. I need to move around anyway. But what the fuck am I thinking? I’m terrible company. I could go down and give the new girl a tour, but I’d probably end up snapping at her and sending her running from the building.

Nope. I need the distraction. It will keep me from drowning my sorrows or working out until three in the morning. “I’ll go.”

Easton and Drake both spin to look at me.

Easton’s eyes widen. “Really?”

I nod. I’m out of my fucking mind. “No problem. I’ll do it.” I step closer to the monitor. “Point her out to me.” The monitors are state-of-the-art. Full color. Nothing granular in this office. Not surprising for the two men I just jokingly suggested could teleport people to the moon. Half joking. If anyone could do it, it would be Easton and Drake Riley.

I set a hand on the desk next to Easton as he points to a woman hovering near the entrance. She’s barely stepped into the club. I take in her outfit so I’ll be able to spot her when I get downstairs. Short black leather skirt, black corset, black knee-high boots. Her hair is blond and hangs halfway down her back. I can’t see her face, but I have enough details to recognize her in the crowd.

Suddenly, she lifts a hand and rubs her forehead with her thumb on one side and pointer and middle finger on the other. She stands taller, inhales slowly, and arches her spine.

I stop breathing. She looks so much like…

It can’t be. It’s not possible. My imagination must be playing tricks on me. If I had a dollar for every time I’ve thought I saw my dead girlfriend in the past three years, I’d be rich. I’m rich anyway, but richer.

The woman holds that position. Paige always did that when she was trying to be brave or thinking really hard. Same exact stance. It’s a coincidence. It has to be. This woman is blond. Oh, and my girlfriend is dead.

There’s that also.

“Are you okay?” Easton asks.

I slowly nod. “She just… She looks so much like Paige.”

Easton rests a hand on my shoulder. “Her name is Shannon.”

I keep staring. “Right,” I mutter. “Well, I’ll go check on her.”

“You sure?” Drake asks. They’re both standing now.

I nod. “I’m good.” I’m not good, but I need to go face this woman to prove she’s not Paige. I’ll confront her, see for myself, and then give her a tour.

I turn and leave the office, enter the stairwell, and take the steps three at a time. My heart is racing for no reason. I’m being so irrational. It’s not Paige. It’s not possible. She died. I’m on the other side of the country, but that doesn’t matter because she’s dead. What the fuck is wrong with me?

When I bust into the reception area on the second floor, Marny jumps and puts a hand over her heart. “You scared me.”

“Sorry.” I keep walking straight past her and open the door to the club. I scan the area. The woman on the monitor was standing right next to this door ten seconds ago. Now, she’s not. I look in both directions and spot her. She has her back to me. She’s heading toward the bathrooms.

I follow her, trying to slow the fuck down when she enters one of the individual stalls that are marked for all genders and disabled people.

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