“Yeah. Damn it!” Slate cursed.

“Good job I was already outside. She went to a car. I sent you a picture,” Fanatic said.

Slate checked his phone and slapped Fanatic hard on the back. “Thanks, kid!”

“Welcome, mate,” Fanatic mumbled before heading inside to clear the last few people out.

???

“Who is she?” Davies asked.

“That’s what I want to know. Can you find her?” Slate replied.

“Sure. Do you need a dive doing on her?” Davies inquired.

“No, just find her for now. There was something in her eyes. Jaelynn was scared when I mentioned offering her a job,” Slate said.

“Okay, give me a few days.”

“Davies? How’s McKenna?” Slate asked softly.

A long, drawn-out sigh was the sad response.

“She is not talking to anyone apart from Demi. She’s home, but her house is like Fort Knox by the time we got done with it. The problem is, McKenna’s been able to lock everyone out, and we can’t break in,” Davies stated.

“Shit. But she’s speaking to Demi?”

“Yes. For some reason, she can relate to her. McKenna’s cut Lina and Marissa out and refuses to see anyone,” Davies said. Slate could hear the pain in his voice.

“Give McKenna time. It’s only been a few months, and she spent a long time in hospital in the psych ward. That couldn’t have helped her,” Slate replied.

“We thought we were going to lose her. We still might have,” Davie murmured, his thoughts elsewhere. “Anyway. I’ll track your lady down.”

Davies cut the call before Slate could respond that Jaelynn wasn’t his woman.

Jaelynn – three days later.

“Are you just fucking stupid?” Royce screamed in my face. Spittle hit my cheek, and I wiped it away.

I cringed away from him. He was in a real mood tonight, and I was about to pay the price again. I needed another cash-in-hand job.

Royce shoved me.

I collided with the wall—hard—and my head slammed back, and I was momentarily dazzled.

“If Brice Jones wants your company, you fucking give it to him,” Royce snarled.

“I am not a dancer!” I cried.

“You’re what I say you are! If Brice demands you to suck cock, you’ll get on your knees and thank him for it!”

“No! I’m not a whore. You don’t tell me who to fuck. I quit Royce, screw this. I was the cloakroom girl, nothing else,” I shrieked.

Royce hauled back and slapped me.

“You hit like a bitch,” I sneered, recovering from the recoil.

“And you’re going to give Brice what he wants whether you like it or not.” Royce scowled and grabbed me by the hair.