Page 70 of The Obvious Check

The door clicks shut, sealing me in my own personal hell.

My fists tighten, my knuckles turning white before I snap. I slam my hand against the vanity. Sharp pain jolts through my arm, but it’s nothing compared to the fury boiling inside me.

It doesn’t matter. None of this fucking matters.

I have Cade. I have someone who actually wants to help me. But I also have Luke. I have a mountain of debt that will never go away because every time I come close to paying it off, he finds a way to add more. To him it’s a game, and I’m nothing more than a number in his books. My life means nothing.Imean nothing.

I take a slow, steady breath, forcing myself to pull it together. Falling apart won’t help me. Crying won’t change anything. Luke doesn’t care. He never has. The only way to get over this moment is to go through it. Get it done with and pretend it hasn’t affected me.

I grab the red wig with numb fingers and adjust it over my real hair like a mask—because that’s all it is. A costume. A persona. A way to get through the next hour without completely losing myself.

Trying to work off my debt has done shit. No matter how hard I push myself, Luke finds a way to keep me chained here. If I want out, I need a different tactic. Something smarter. Something permanent. Because I can’t do this while I have Adley to take care of. She deserves better.Ideserve better.

I swipe at the tears running down my face, barely registering the makeup smudging away. It doesn’t matter. The lights in those rooms are low, and whoever is waiting for me in there isn’t here for my eyeliner. He’s here for the show. One I have no choice but to give it to him.

I force one foot in front of the other, walking down the stairs with a blank, numb expression. Luke watches me pass and smirks with satisfaction, but I meet his gaze with a glare of my own. He knows he’s won this round. I know it too. But I won’t let him see how much it destroys me.

Pushing past the heavy curtain, I step into the hallway where Luke carved out his own version of hell—four small rooms, each designed for one purpose and one purpose only. A place where his clients can pay to indulge their fantasies with whichever girl they choose.

And tonight, someone chose me.

My stomach churns at the thought, bile creeping up my throat. I don’t want to go in there. Every cell in my body is screaming for me to run, to claw my way out of this place and never look back, but there’s no way Luke would let me leave alive.

I just want to be free, but when was the last time I felt that?

Not here. Not in my car. Nowhere. Except… with Cade.

His name flashes through my mind, bringing a sliver of comfort before it twists into something else entirely. Dread. Panic.

But how do I tell the one person who makes me feel safe that I walked willingly into the fire? That when he picks me up tonight, I’ll be half the person I was when he left? That no matter how hard I try to wash this away, it’ll still be there, staining me from the inside out?

I swallow hard, blinking rapidly as I reach for the doorknob.

“Savannah.”

Luke’s voice cuts through the haze in my mind, making me flinch. He’s still watching. Still waiting.

I force my shoulders back, inhaling slowly, but the breath barely makes it into my lungs. Right. The only way I survive this is the same way I always have—I go somewhere else in my mind. Somewhere safe. I imagine Cade. I’ve done it before, and I’ll do itagain. His voice, his touch, the way he looks at me like I’m worth something. I hold onto that, gripping it like a lifeline as I curl my fingers around the doorknob.

One step. Then another. I step inside.

The door clicks shut behind me, sealing me in. My eyes stay shut. If I don’t look, maybe I can get through this without seeing him. Maybe I can pretend it’s not happening.

I take a hesitant step forward, relying on muscle memory to walk in a straight line, my pulse hammering in my ears.

Then something hits me.

Not fear. Not dread.

Chicken?

The scent fills the room, rich and familiar, like someone just walked in carrying a takeout box from the diner.

My brow furrows, my pulse stuttering in confusion.

“What took you so long?”

My breath catches. That voice. That voice doesnotbelong to some faceless client.

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