Page 11 of Never Let Go (Forbidden #1)

Chapter Eleven

LAUREN

I ’m in a daze as I walk out of Caleb’s office, the seriousness of the situation not lost on me.

Shame over feelings I fear I’m starting to catch are pulsing through my body, slamming into me with the weight of a sledgehammer.

Taking a minute, I prop myself up against the nearest wall and take a few calming breaths.

I hear footsteps and I look up to see Dean Williams striding my way.

My intuition tells me that I need to keep as far away from this man as physically possible, which is why I quickly move to the nearest room and wait for him to pass.

Once he’s gone, I check the hallway, and seeing it’s clear, I run toward the exit.

Luckily I’m working tonight so I don’t have time to go down the rabbit hole that is Caleb. I need to get home, grab clothes and head in, ignoring any and all thoughts about a certain sexy professor.

Once I get to work, I put myself through my usual routine—hair, makeup and outfit. I chose a more daring red tonight, compared to my usual black. The push up bra, showing my small B cups to perfection and my boy shorts showcasing my ass.

I glance around the dressing room, with its white walls and harsh lighting.

Over the past couple of years each of the girls has brought in something to make it feel less sterile—plants, pictures, a fridge, and even a couch with pink fuzzy cushions, though don’t ask me where it came from, I prefer not to know.

It’s early evening so there’s only me and Destiny in until the rest of the girls show up at various other times throughout the night.

Steve, our security guard, is making his rounds. The guy’s an absolute sweetheart, even if he’s a bit rough around the edges. Steve’s the strip club's version of a knight in shining armor—easy on the eyes, too.

Destiny comes off stage and I know I’ve got about ten minutes until I’m on. Taking a drink from the fridge I sit on the sofa, scrolling through social media. Noticing Sydney posted a picture about an hour ago, I like and comment on it before shutting the app down and putting my phone away.

“It’s dead out there tonight, hun,” Destiny says as she walks into the dressing room and grabs a bottle of water. “There’s one guy in the side booth though, kinda creepy looking.” She shudders.

“I thought it would be, it’s not kicking out time for the blue collared boys yet,” I laugh. “I’ll keep an eye out. Steve’s around somewhere. ”

Standing up from my chair I head toward the stage.

I’ve always loved dancing, I’m no Sydney though—that girl can move—I’m more of the ‘I know how to dance in a nightclub’ kinda girl.

I remember walking home from school when I was sixteen and seeing a new gym had opened up.

I don’t remember how long I stood there for, I just remember being so enamored by the women and how they moved, unable to take my eyes off them as they spun and twirled around the poles.

After a few weeks of watching at the window like a perv, the owner came out.

Leah was lithe and beautiful, she had the kindest smile so when she asked me if I wanted to join in, I couldn’t say no.

Well, I did at first. I couldn’t afford the lessons, but she agreed to me cleaning for an hour after each visit.

I ended up being there every day it was open.

Leah taught me everything I know and leaving her was the only thing I got sad over when I left for university.

The opening notes to Falling Apart by Papa Roach starts, pulling me out of my thoughts and I move across the stage, slowly moving each foot in a wide circular motion as I walk.

My arms move in a wavy motion that almost makes me look like a fairy.

Once I hear Jacobi Shaddox start singing, I grab the pole and gyrate up against it, before squatting down and bringing myself back up with my ass sticking out.

I swing my blonde hair around, moving my body fluid with the music. Out of the corner of my eye as I’m performing my routine, I see a man sitting in the front row, the only seat with low enough light that I can’t make out his features.

I slide myself to the floor, crawling towards him in an overly dramatic fashion before rolling onto my back and scissoring my legs in the air.

I roll myself up, flinging my head back, and standing.

Gracefully gliding over to the pole I grab it, spinning around in what’s known as a ‘fireman’s spin’—one hand holding low on the pole, one hand high and my feet together as if I’m sitting cross legged.

I can feel his eyes on me the entire time I’m dancing.

I know I’m a stripper and I’m meant to have eyes on me, but this is the first time in two years that I’ve actually felt uncomfortable.

A shiver runs down my spine and a sense of foreboding takes over.

Shit, now I’m starting to sound as dramatic as Sydney.

Finishing off my set, I head backstage, hanging with the girls until I’m on again.

At the end of my shift, I throw on my trusty sweats and hoodie, gathering my hair into a messy bun. I’ve already ordered an Uber so I head to the main entrance to wait, passing Steve on my way out. “Night, Steve,” I say, giving him a small wave.

He stands up from behind his desk, where the cameras are, and says, “Let me walk you out, Lauren.”

“Steve, I’ll be fine, honestly. The Uber is just round the corner, and you’re needed here.” I’ve never felt unsafe in this area, so it doesn’t occur to me not to be okay with waiting outside on my own.

“Lauren,” he drags out my name, clearly not happy. “I don’t like it.”

“I love you for wanting to look after me, but I promise I’ll be fine… I’m a big girl, Steve.” I wink at him.

“Fine. But the minute there’s even a slight issue, you get your butt straight back in here. You get me?” He raises an eyebrow at me, crossing his arms over his broad chest to let me know he’s serious.

I lean up and kiss his cheek. “You worry too much, but I promise. Any sign of trouble and I’ll be straight back.” I smile up at him and he just rolls his eyes .

Strolling outside with my phone in one hand, my keys in the other, I breathe in the fresh night air. I quickly make my way through the car park to the main road, so it’s easier for my ride to find me.

The streetlights are illuminating the path ahead of me and I stop outside a closed bookshop, leaning my back up against the wall as I check my phone for any updates.

I hear a noise behind me and I jump. Turning to look, I find a dark figure approaching me. Don’t panic, don’t panic. But the closer he gets, the more I recognize him.

Holy fuck.

It’s the dean. What’s he doing here? I try to conceal my shudder. I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again—the guy gives me the creeps.

He’s dressed in an all-black suit, making it easier for him to blend into the shadows.

He’s got a strange look on his face that only adds to the creepy vibes he’s giving off.

I tighten my grip on my keys, preparing myself for the worst possible outcome.

I’m not saying that he’d do anything to hurt me, but I’ve heard enough horror stories growing up to know I always need to be prepared.

“Hello, Miss Taylor,” he says, a grin pulling at the corner of his mouth giving him what can only be described as a sinister look.

Shifting uneasily, I rush out, “Dean Williams, you scared me.”

He steps closer to me, his body lit up by the streetlights, giving him an eerie vibe that has me swallowing hard. “I apologize, that wasn’t my intention,” he says, his gaze boring into mine.

I gesture to my phone, waving it around slightly. “Uh, I’m just waiting for my ride.” I’m now beginning to regret my decision for Steve to wait outside with me.

“Indeed.” He nods, smiling toothily at me, a somewhat deranged look in his eyes. “You were fabulous tonight, my dear,” he compliments .

“Th-thank you?” It wasn’t really a question, but it came out as one. Was he the guy sitting in the front row? Was he the one who spent the entire night watching us and making us feel uncomfortable?

Luckily, my ride turns up before he can say anything else. I wave awkwardly because, really, what else could I do? And jump into the Uber, glad to get away from the unsettling encounter.