Page 81 of Intense

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But I’m not here to make friends.

I’m here to keep them safe.

And to scratch the itch the only way I know how.

The other dancer, Steph, creeps up behind me.

“That guy, the one who you weren’t sure about, he’s here again. Same booth.”

I swallow. “Thanks,” I say quietly.

Fuck.

The girls all leave, and I stare at my reflection in the mirror before popping in my brown contacts for the night.

Who am I?

I look... lost.

I think I have been for a long time.

I’ve never really found my place.

I thought the hospital—that was my calling.

But then Finn happened.

And after yesterday, I can still feel his lips claiming mine.

The way his hands owned me.

And I can’t stop thinking... what if I went after more?

What if I stopped denying that I crave him in ways I shouldn’t?

I think he was right. We are similar. Maybe that’s why we clash so hard—two bombs in the same room.

But I can’t help wondering... what the fuck happened to him?

That pain in his eyes I felt it deep in my core, like I’d lived it with him.

We’re both hiding who we are.

What if we dropped the act?

Maybe I am meant to be more than this.

I sigh, picking up the brush and running it through the soft red strands of my wig.

By the time I’m ready, I have a face full of makeup and a thong that shows off every inch of my ass. And as always, the snake tattoo that runs down through my breasts is covered completely.

I’m hot.

But I’m not Stephanie.

I’m Angel.

I’m a fucking monster.

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