Page 55 of Bound By Threads

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I’d almost convinced myself to back off, that I was just overreacting, but I can’t.

I text Oscar.

I don’t know why I do, instinct maybe?

Me

You working tonight?

Oscar

Yeah, why?

You good?

Me

Have you seen Lottie?

…

I wait,then wait some more as the three dots appear, then disappear again.

I move. Keys, jacket, boots. I pocket my phone, and I’m out the door and in the truck before Oscar can reply.

* * *

The Velvet Room.

My heart flatlines, then slams back into my ribs like a sledgehammer.

The sign out front is subtle. Black. Classy. It doesn’t scream ‘strip club’ until you pull into the lot and hear the bass reverberating through the pavement.

I get out and stalk toward the door, only half aware of Oscar jogging toward me. He holds his hands up to get me to stop.“Archer, just breathe a second,”he signs wildly.I need you to not overreact.”

Nope.

I shove past him.

The place is dimly lit. Smells like perfume and dollar bills. Music pounds low and sensual through the air like a siren’s call.

Women weave their way through the crowd, walking laps in heels, confidence and exhaustion warping together on their painted faces.

I’ve never stepped foot in a place like this—never wanted to.

“Siren!” The word cuts through the haze, drawing my eyes to the center stage.

Lottie.Wearing next to nothing. Moving in ways that make my throat dry and my fists clench.

The girl I promised safety to.

The girl I’d tear down the world for.

My girl.

And here she is undressing for strangers.

My vision goesblack for half a second. I forget how to breathe, and I’m moving before I even realize it, shoving through the crowd, ignoring the bouncer who’s suddenly at my side, stepping in front of me.

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