Page 35 of Cipher's Baby Girl
Chapter 14
Rose
Colored lights sweep across the dance floor, slicing through artificial fog and transforming sweaty skin into a kaleidoscope of blues and purples and reds. The bass thrums through my body like a second heartbeat, vibrating up through the soles of my shoes and settling somewhere deep in my chest. The air tastes of perfume, alcohol, and desire—thick enough to coat my tongue.
I've never experienced anything like this—the freedom, the anonymity, the pulsing energy that seems to lift me from the floor and carry me on its current. Mere weeks ago, I was locked in a shipping container. Before that, I spent years isolated under the strictness and cruelty of a man who hated me. Now I'm here in a fever dream, feeling alive in a way I never thought possible.
Luna grins beside me, her body moving with practiced confidence to the rhythm. I try to copy her movements, feeling awkward at first but gradually finding my own flow. The dress I’m wearing clings to my skin, already damp with perspiration. I can feel eyes on me—male gazes that would have terrified me weeks ago but now give me a strange sense of power.
"You're a natural!" Luna shouts over the music, grabbing my hands and spinning me around.
I laugh. The sound is drowned by the thumping bass, but the feeling bubbles through me like champagne. For these few minutes, I'm not Rose the victim, Rose the burden, Rose the shy and socially awkward just-turned-adult. I'm simply a woman in a pretty dress, dancing under swirling lights.
A tall man with a neatly trimmed goatee approaches, his eyes appreciative but not predatory. "Dance?" he asks, holding out his hand.
I hesitate, glancing at Luna who gives an encouraging nod.
"One song," I agree, allowing him to guide me deeper into the crowd.
He's respectful, keeping a proper distance between us as we move to the music. I wonder if that's because this club is owned by the Shadow Reapers—no one would dare disrespect women under their protection. The thought makes me smile. For all their fearsome reputation, the MC has given me more safety than I've known since my mother died.
After the song ends, I thank him politely and make my way to a table Rash is occupying, his eyes sweeping the crowd vigilantly, never leaving the four of us as we dance.
"Having fun?" Rash asks, sliding a glass toward me. "Ginger ale," he adds quietly. "No one needs to know there's no vodka in it."
I take a grateful sip, the carbonation soothing my queasy stomach. "Thanks."
Luna, Sophie, and Angel appear, tumbling off the dance floor, flushed and laughing from dancing.
"Break time," Luna announces, collapsing into a chair at our table. "I need hydration before I pass out."
"You're killing it out there, Rose," Angel says, signaling for drinks. "I've counted at least six guys who can't take their eyes off you."
I feel heat rise to my cheeks, the blush spreading down my neck. "It's just the dress and makeup."
"It's not the dress," Sophie counters. "It's you. The dress just helps you see what we've all seen since you arrived."
"Which is what?" I ask, genuinely curious.
"That you're gorgeous," Luna says matter-of-factly. "And that Cipher is an idiot."
At his name, my heart does that familiar painful contraction.
"He made it pretty clear how he feels," I say, trying to sound indifferent.
"Men say a lot of things they don't mean," Angel says, accepting her drink from the waitress. "Especially men like Cipher."
"You mean men who call you 'Baby Girl' one minute and act like you disgust them the next?" The words slip out before I can stop them, bitter and hurt.
There's a sudden silence at the table. I look up to find three pairs of eyes staring at me with identical expressions of shock.
"What?" I ask, uncomfortable under their scrutiny.
"He called you 'Baby Girl'?" Luna's voice is hushed, like I've just revealed a state secret.
The memory of him whispering it against my skin while buried deep inside me makes my body flush with heat. My body remembers his touch with embarrassing clarity—the weight of him above me, the gentle way his hands explored me, the tenderness that seemed so at odds with his fearsome reputation.
“A few times,” I confirm, confused by their reaction. “It’s not like it means anything.” I wave a hand in the air. “He probably calls all his conquests that," I add with a shrug, trying to seem casual while my heart aches.
