Page 34 of Stripped

Chapter 18

The thumping of the bass from the music in the club pounded in Pim's head, blocking out the sound of her thoughts. She looked over at the guy at the bar buying her a drink and turned to his friends, smiling. She couldn't stay home. Everywhere she looked in her flat, she saw something that reminded her of her grandfather and the lies. After pouring herself a large drink, she decided to change and go out.

The guy came back and handed her a glass of wine. "Here you go, darling." He put his arm around her, his hand resting on her lower back. "I haven't seen you in here before."

She shrugged. She couldn't even remember his name. "We should dance," she said, setting her drink down. She pulled him onto the dance floor. He put his arms around her, grabbing her bum as they began to move to the music. It was wall to wall people. She threw her hands in the air, forgetting this week ever happened. A hand came down on her shoulder and she turned and looked up, staring into green eyes that held nothing but anger.

"Let's go," Wraith said. "Now."

The guy she was dancing with pulled her back against him. "Back off, mate. She's already taken."

"Get your hands off her."

"Or what?"

"You don't want to find out," Wraith said between clenched teeth, grabbing the man by the front of his shirt.

"Stop," Pim yelled over the din.

Wraith pulled the man closer as his friends came over and stood behind him, bolstered by alcohol and ready for a fight. "Back off," Wraith said. "Or your friend here will wish he was never born."

Pim put her hand up, blocking him. "Stop it."

He let go of the man, taking her by the arm. "Go wait outside."

"You can't tell me what to do."

"Go. Wait. Outside." The strobing lights of the club made his eyes appear black and menacing.

The guy began to back up, changing his mind. "You can fucking have her," he said, leaving with his friends.

Wraith grabbed her hand and removed her from the crowd on the dance floor. "Where's your coat?"

"I don't have one," she yelled. "I'm not going with you."

"Jesus Christ. You came out in just that dress?"

She looked down. She was wearing a silver-sequined slip dress. The back was so low, it showed her tailbone. He took off his suit jacket and put it around her shoulders, leading her out of the club. His car was idling up front. He handed the valet a large bill and put Pim in the passenger seat, fastening the seatbelt tight around her.

"Stop it." She pushed his hand away. He ignored her as he got in the car and drove the few blocks to her flat. "Who the fuck do you think you are?" she asked, enraged.

"Let's get inside." He opened her door, his normally controlled demeanor having returned.

"I was on a date."

"Really? You call that a date? What was his name?"

"Fuck off."

"It looked to me like it was just someone you picked up in a bar," he said, following her up the stairs to her flat.

The door to her apartment was ajar. Wraith grabbed her by the shoulder and stepped in front of her. "Wait here," he said, going in first.

She poked her head in. Her place was ransacked. Cabinet doors were open, dishes broken, tables turned over, the cushions on the couch slashed. She followed Wraith down the hallway. Someone had poured red paint over the floor in her dance studio and written Bitch across the mirror.

"I told you to wait outside," Wraith said sharply, meeting her in the hall. "Do you ever listen?"

"Go to Hell."

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