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J uno felt that their little talk had gone well. She also didn’t know Saint well enough to know if she was fooling herself into believing that or if he’d really keep her secret. Either way, she couldn’t do anything about it if he ran back to Savage Hell and the Harlots and told them all her news. But then what? Would finally own her shit, or would she call Saint a liar? She knew that she’d never be able to do that. Saint seemed like a nice guy—mostly, and throwing him under the bus wasn’t in her rule book.

She had one of those too—a rule book. Well, it wasn’t actually a physical book, but more of a made-up list of things she would and wouldn’t do to another person. Murder was at the top of her list, not that she wanted to murder Saint, or anyone else for that matter. She always tried to do the right thing, even if it was hard to do. Lying to everyone about her job was a necessary evil and one that she hated herself daily for doing.

Lying to her parents had become second nature. Her overly religious mother would never understand her dancing for a living. The poor woman would die if she saw her up on that stage every night. As an only child, her parents had high hopes for her. They set goals that she didn’t want for herself—like going to college. She hated having to tell them that she wasn’t going to further her education, so there was no way that she’d tell either of her parents that she was an exotic dancer.

unlocked her car and slid into the driver’s seat, realizing that she had left her cell phone in the dressing room of the club. “Shit,” she grumbled to herself. She grabbed her purse and keys, and ran to the back door, trying to dodge the rain that had just started falling. She said a little prayer that the door was still unlocked and when she tugged it open, she almost wanted to cheer.

“What are you doing back here?” Bruno asked.

“I never left,” she admitted. “I’ve just been sitting out in the parking lot.” Well, that was true for the most part. First, she sat in Saint’s truck to talk to him, and it was parked in the back lot. Then, she got in her car and figured out that she had forgotten her phone. Lying to everyone daily had her trying not to tell fibs to everyone, and this time, she succeeded. Not that she cared about lying to Bruno.

“I mean, why are you back in the club? I’m about to turn off the lights and head out,” he said.

“Oh, I forgot my cell phone,” she said. “I think that I left it in the dressing room.”

He held up her phone in its bejeweled pink case and smiled at her. “You mean this phone?” he asked.

“Yes, that’s the one. Thank you for finding it for me,” she said, holding out her hand. Bruno stuffed it back into his pocket and her heart sank. He was toying with her and had probably had way too much to drink. He was a mean drunk, and she knew better than to fuck with him when he was like this—but she wanted her damn phone back.

“How about we play a little game?” he asked.

“I’m not up for games, Bruno. I’m tired and just want to go home and crawl into bed,” she insisted, still holding out her hand to him. He grabbed her extended hand and pulled her against his body. God, he smelled like booze and cigarettes, and she felt like she was going to puke. was also sure that she’d wear his marks from the way he was holding her wrists.

“You’re hurting me,” she spat.

“I’m all for us going back to your place and crawling into your bed,” he slurred. regretted using those words, but she was really just trying to keep her wits about herself and get the hell out of there.

“That’s not what I meant, Bruno. Please let go of me,” she begged.

“How about you give me a kiss and I’ll think about letting you go,” he said. She knew that Bruno was lying but calling him a liar right now might not be her best move.

“I’m not going to kiss you, Bruno. You’re my boss,” she reminded.

“Right, and as your boss, I’m telling you to kiss me. If you want to keep your job, you’ll do as I say.” She needed her job, but at what cost? She had heard some of the other girls talking about Bruno doing this to some of the women, but she never really thought he’d go after her. He had always seemed harmless—until now.

“I need my job, Bruno,” she insisted. “You can’t do this. It’s illegal.” Thinking that she could use logic to wiggle her way out of this was foolish, but she was out of options and desperate.

“Are you threatening me?” he spat, his hand tightening on her wrist.

cried out in pain, “You’re hurting me, Bruno,” she said, “please just let me go. I won’t tell anyone that this happened. You can even keep my phone, just let me go.”

“I’d listen to the lady, Bruno,” a man’s voice said from behind her. Bruno looked past her as she turned her head to see who was coming to her rescue, but she already had a pretty good idea who it was.

“Saint,” she whispered.

“Who the fuck are you and why are you in my club?” Bruno asked.

“I’m ’s friend, and I’m giving you one more chance to do the right thing here, Bruno,” Saint said.

“Yeah, and who’s going to make me? This is my club and you’re trespassing,” Bruno said. “I’ll call the cops, and you’ll go to jail. Who will help poor, helpless then?” She wanted to insist that she was not helpless and that she could handle herself, but she had done a poor job of it so far. Bruno was still holding her wrist, pressing his fingers into her flesh, and Saint was riding in on a white horse ready to save her. Yeah, she was totally the damsel in distress and that plain pissed her off.

“Go ahead and call the cops,” Saint taunted. “I’m sure that would love to tell them all about you threatening to fire her if she didn’t kiss you. Hell, I’m betting that you were going to ask her for more than that to get her phone back.”

“And there are other girls who he’s done this to. I’m sure that they’ll talk too,” added. She wasn’t sure that any of the other women would come forward to talk to the police about Bruno. Some of them were underage, and although they’d be able to put him away for a long time for having sex with a minor, those girls might be too afraid to stand up to him. Some of them still worked for him and like her, they needed their jobs, or they’d end up on the streets. was hoping that Bruno was dumb enough to believe her threat.

“What’s it going to be? I’m sure that I can do a lot of damage to you and your club before the cops get here,” Saint threatened.

She could almost hear Bruno weighing his options. “Fine,” he spat. He released her wrist and shoved her in Saint’s direction, practically falling into his arms.

“You good?” he asked, checking her body over for any issues.

“I am now,” she said, looking up at him. She knew that the knight in shining armor thing was only in her imagination, but damn if she wasn’t seeing Saint in a whole new light.

Bruno stood there, watching them; his smile was mean. “I see what this is,” he spat. “You two are together and now, you’re upset that I touched your woman.”

“That’s not it at all,” insisted. “You can’t take my phone and then tell me to give you sexual favors to get it back, Bruno.”

“Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do, honey,” he growled. “You’ve been nothing but a pain in my ass since you started here, .”

Saint growled, actually growled, and tried to step around her. “Don’t you fucking talk to her that way,” he shouted. put her arms out, trying to keep Saint behind her body, but it was getting harder to do with every passing second.

“Yeah, go on and tell me that you two aren’t together,” Bruno taunted.

“I’m going to fucking kill him,” Saint breathed from behind her.

“No, you’re not,” insisted. “I need my job, Saint.”

“You should listen to your little girlfriend, Saint,” Bruno said. “Oh, and honey, you don’t work here anymore. You should just go ahead and clean out your locker now because if either of you ever come back here, I’ll have you both arrested. The cops will never believe you if you don’t work here.”

“Bruno,” breathed, “I really need my job. If I’m not working, I can’t pay my rent and will have no place to live.” The thought of moving back in with her parents scared the hell out of her. If she had to beg and plead with Bruno to keep her job, she would.

“You son of a bitch,” Saint spat, trying to get around her. didn’t have the energy to deal with him and Bruno.

“You should leave,” she insisted. “I can handle myself.”

“Really, ? Because when I walked in here, you weren’t doing a very good job of handling yourself. In fact, the only one I saw handling you was that asshole,” he said, looking over at Bruno.

“Take your phone, get your stuff, and get the fuck out,” Bruno growled, tossing her cellphone onto the concrete floor. She picked it up and noticed a crack running down the screen.

“You broke my screen,” she accused.

“You’re lucky that’s all I did, honey,” Bruno said. “Get your stuff.” had nothing in her locker of importance. Just a few costumes and cosmetics. She generally didn’t wear makeup—especially not the kind she wore on stage.

“I don’t need anything from my locker. It’s just a few costumes. Give them to the other girls,” she breathed. She walked past Saint, not bothering to look at him because she was pretty sure that she’d see everything that she didn’t want to see staring back at her—anger, disgust, and maybe even pity. She didn’t need any of that from him. Right now, all she wanted to do was go home and try to figure out how she was going to pay for her apartment because her pretend job at the law firm wasn’t going to pay her very real bills.

* * *

She was almost to her car when Saint growled her name and damn it even that was sexy. Seeing him come to her rescue both pissed her off and had her swooning a bit. It was nice to have someone in her corner, especially tonight when Bruno got handsy. didn’t want to even think about what might have happened if Saint hadn’t followed her into the club. The question was—why did he follow her in? She hadn’t even noticed that he was still in the parking lot. Was he watching her or was it just a coincidence?

turned around to face him, walking straight into his chest. Saint put his arms around her, trying to keep her from falling. Unfortunately for her, she was a natural born klutz. went down, taking Saint with her, and she was sure that she had done a bit of damage to them both.

“Fuck,” she spat, “why would you be right behind me, Saint?” She sounded as though she was accusing him of being the reason that they were both lying on the ground together.

“Don’t blame me for this,” he said, “you’re the one who lost your balance and pulled us both down to the pavement. Are you all right?”

“I will be,” she insisted, “I think I’m going to be just a bit banged up. I’ve had bruises before; I’ll heal.” She looked him over, realizing that he looked a little worse for wear. “Are you all right?” she asked.

“I think that my arm might be busted. I landed on my left arm when we fell, trying to brace myself,” he said.

“You mean, as in broken?” looked down at his arm and winced. She wasn’t a doctor, but it looked broken to her.

“Pretty much,” he said, “let’s get up off the ground and I’ll go get it looked at.”

“Wait,” she almost shouted.

“Did you hurt yourself and can’t get up?” He looked her over and she shook her head.

“No, I want to ask you a question,” she said.

“You want to have a fucking conversation while we sit on the ground?” he grumbled.

She shrugged, “You’ll answer my questions faster if you want to get your arm checked out.”

“I’m in a lot of pain here, honey,” he admitted. “How about you drive me to the emergency room, and I’ll answer your questions?” She felt like an ass for demanding that he sit on the ground with her while she questioned him.

“I’m sorry, of course you’re in pain. Get in my car and I’ll drive you to the ER,” she offered.

“Your car?” he asked, looking at it as though it had offended him in some way.

“What’s wrong with my car?” She stared him down and he just smiled at her. All her girl parts seemed to do a little dance when he flashed her his sexy smile. One thing about Saint that she knew for certain, he was a heartthrob, and in high school, he had quite a reputation for dating his way through the female population. He was out of school by the time she got to high school, but he was pretty famous around town for his antics. She had been friends with Dare, his younger brother since they were in grade school, and could remember when their parents died. Her mother and father made her go to the funeral to pay her respects to Dare for his loss, and God, she felt out of her element, not knowing what to say to her friend and his older brother. Dare didn’t seem like the same boy she had known since second grade and that made her sad. She worried about her friend, but after a while, things went back to normal between the two of them. Saint became Dare’s guardian, and she remembered him telling her how relieved he was that his brother was going to take care of him and not put him in foster care where he’d probably have to move away.

Saint stood from the pavement and held his good hand down to help her up. “Well, for one, it’s a grandma car,” he said.

“It is not,” she insisted, taking his offered hand. Saint practically lifted her off the ground completely as he helped her to her feet. “Did my so-called friends tell you to say that?” she asked. “Making fun of her is mean since she might be my new home soon.” He rolled his eyes at her as if he didn’t believe a word that came out of her mouth.

“No,” he said, “I have eyes and can see for myself that it’s a grandma car. How about you drive my truck?”

She looked over at his truck and back at him. “You’ve got to be kidding. I can’t drive that thing, it’s a tank.”

“You’ll do great,” he insisted. “It’s about as long as your grandma car, so you’ve got lots of practice.” She wasn’t sure if she wanted to slap him or laugh. He was serious and seemed to be in a good deal of pain, so laughing was out of the question, and unfortunately, so was slapping him.

“Fine, I’ll drive your truck, but I want it noted that I’m doing so under protest. And if we get into an accident, I won’t be held accountable.” Saint unlocked his truck, and she helped him up into the passenger side. He handed her the keys, and she sighed and took them. The thought of driving his truck terrified her. Any newer cars did. She was used to her old car.

She got into the driver’s seat and adjusted the seat, having to move it practically all the way up to the steering wheel. “I think that I might be too short for this thing,” she breathed.

“Can you reach the gas pedal and break?” Saint asked.

She touched both with her foot and nodded, “Yes,” she said.

“Then, you’ll be fine,” he grumbled. “Can you help me with my seatbelt?” She reached across his body and grabbed the belt, pulling it across his chest and buckling it into place.

“Comfy?” she asked. He gave her a look as though she had lost her mind by even asking him that question.

“I have a broken arm and you’re asking me if I’m comfy?” He had a point. She decided to go with the old adage that silence was golden as she buckled her seatbelt and started the truck. “I’m sorry,” he breathed. “I’m a horrible patient and when I’m in pain, I can be a real asshole.”

“No kidding,” she mumbled to herself.

“Again, sorry,” he said. “I appreciate you taking me to the hospital. I owe you one, .”

“You don’t owe me anything,” she insisted. “You got me out of my jam with Bruno, so let’s call things even,” she said. He had saved her ass back at the club, but it hurt her pride to admit that to him or anyone else. She had always been an independent woman, capable of taking care of herself. But if Saint hadn’t followed her into the club, she didn’t know what would have happened.

“So, you had questions that I agreed to answer while you drove,” he reminded. “Let’s have them.” had almost forgotten what she wanted to ask him until she brought up him rescuing her from Bruno.

“Are you sure that you don’t mind?” she asked, suddenly feeling awful about playing twenty questions with him while he was in so much pain.

“Ask away,” he insisted.

“Okay, why did you follow me into the club tonight?” she asked. “I thought that we settled things in your truck. You agreed to keep my secret, and we’d go our separate ways,” she said.

“Right, and I was about to pull out of the parking lot when I saw you run back into the club. I knew that no one else was around, and I wanted to make sure that you got back to your car safely. You can’t be too careful on that side of town.” She knew how dangerous that side of town was. She had been working over there for four years now. But working closer to home might have gotten her recognized before now, and she couldn’t risk that happening.

“You didn’t need to wait for me. I can handle myself on that side of town,” she insisted.

“What about your boss?” he asked. “Were you handling yourself with him?” Saint wasn’t playing fair, and that plain pissed her off.

“Hey, you could be a little bit nicer to me. I am driving you to the hospital,” she reminded.

“And I appreciate you doing this for me, but why can’t you accept my help tonight?” She hated asking anyone for help and admitting that she needed it wasn’t something that made her comfortable.

“I don’t like accepting help,” she said. “I appreciate that you got me out of a sticky situation, but I could have handled him.”

Saint sighed and shook his head, staring out the windshield. “You’re hopeless,” he whispered.

“I am not,” she spat.

“You are, but I’ll concede if that will stop this conversation from continuing,” Saint said.

“Deal,” she agreed. She was tired of talking about him coming to her rescue and whether or not she actually needed his help—because she didn’t, but Saint would never accept that. just wanted to concentrate on getting him to the hospital and having him patched up so that she could go home and crawl into her own bed. She might not have her apartment for very much longer and she wanted to enjoy it while she did.