Page 15 of Trained In Sin

Saphy

The bass thrums through my body as Beth and I weave through the crowd at Fabric. The indie night is exactly what I needed, loud enough to drown out my thoughts, busy enough to feel anonymous. For the first time in days, I'm not constantly looking over my shoulder. I actually feel safe.

"Another drink?" Beth shouts over the music, already heading toward the bar.

I nod, following her through the sea of bodies. The club is packed, exactly the kind of chaos that makes surveillance difficult. If Sebastian Blackwood is watching me tonight, at least he'll have to work for it.

We squeeze up to the bar, and Beth orders us another round of vodka and cranberries. As we wait, two guys in their early twenties sidle up beside us. University students, probably, with that particular brand of drunken confidence that comes from too many pints and not enough life experience.

"Ladies," the taller one says, leaning too close to me. His breath smells of cheap lager and regret. "Can I buy you a drink?"

"We're good, thanks," I reply politely but firmly.

"Come on, don't be like that," his friend chimes in, moving to block my path to the dance floor. "We're just being friendly."

"And I'm just being honest. Not interested." I keep my voice level, but there's steel underneath. After the week I've had, these amateur hour dickheads are nothing .

The first guy reaches for my arm. "Look, we're nice guys…."

"She said no." Beth appears at my elbow, drinks in hand and danger in her eyes. "That's a complete sentence. Now fuck off."

They mutter something about bitches and move away, probably to try their luck with some other women who'll hopefully have the sense to avoid them.

"Wankers," Beth says cheerfully, handing me my drink. "To surviving the patriarchy, one rejection at a time."

I laugh, clinking my glass against hers. "To having a best friend who's scarier than she looks."

"Damn right I am." Beth grins, taking a large sip. "Now, let's dance and forget about idiots, of all varieties."

We find a spot on the dance floor, and for the next hour, I let the music wash over me.

Beth is in her element here, fearless on the dance floor, striking up conversations with strangers, dragging me into group dances with people we've never met.

She has this gift for making everyone around her feel included.

Within minutes, we're part of a loose group of friends, all dancing together like we've known each other for years.

It's one of the things I love most about her, this ability to turn strangers into temporary family.

"This is brilliant!" she shouts over the pounding bass, gesturing to our impromptu dance circle. A girl with purple hair and dramatic eyeliner spins past us, laughing as her boyfriend tries to keep up with her moves. "See? This is why I love indie nights!”

She's right. There's something refreshingly honest about this crowd. No one's trying to impress anyone else with expensive clothes or bottle service. Everyone's just moving to the music, lost in their own little worlds of sound and rhythm .

"Remember that hiking trip we took last summer?" she shouts in my ear during a brief lull between songs. "When we got completely lost in the Peak District?"

"You mean when you insisted we take the 'scenic route' and we ended up walking for six hours?" I shout back, laughing at the memory. "And you made friends with those sheep!"

"They were excellent conversationalists!

Much better than some humans I know." Beth grins, doing an exaggerated sheep impression that makes me laugh so hard I nearly spill my drink.

"Best day ever though! That sunset from the ridge was incredible.

We should do it again, maybe next month.

I found this amazing trail in the Cotswolds, apparently there's this village pub at the end that does the most incredible Sunday roast."

"Only if you promise to bring an actual map this time! And maybe tell someone where we're going."

"Where's the fun in that? The best adventures happen when you don't know where you'll end up.

" Beth spins around, arms raised, completely uninhibited.

This is Beth at her best, adventurous, spontaneous, dragging me out of my careful, ordered world into something messier and more alive.

"Besides, we always figure it out. That's what makes us such a good team. "

She's right, again. We balance each other perfectly, her spontaneity tempering my need for organisation, my planning keeping her from ending up completely lost in the wilderness. Tonight is exactly what I needed. A reminder that life exists outside of Sebastian Blackwood's psychological games.

For the first time in days, I'm not thinking about Sebastian Blackwood, not jumping at shadows, not cataloguing potential threats.

I'm just... normal. Drunk enough to feel loose and relaxed, but nowhere near sloppy.

Just pleasantly tipsy, the way Friday nights should be.

The alcohol has softened the edges of my anxiety, making everything feel slightly blurred and manageable.

When someone bumps into me on the dance floor, I don't immediately scan for threats, I just laugh and keep dancing.

This is what I've been missing. This feeling of being just another face in the crowd, just another girl out with her best friend on a Friday night.

No one here knows about stalkers or stolen pillowcases or sinister board meetings.

I'm not Sapphire Jenkins, victim. I'm just Saphy, having a drink and dancing badly to music I love.

Around midnight, a guy with dark hair and kind eyes approaches Beth during a slower song.

He's been hovering near our group for the past hour, buying drinks for our little circle, making conversation.

Not pushy like the earlier arseholes, just genuinely interested in talking to her.

I've been watching him out of the corner of my eye, the way he listens when she talks, how he laughs at her stories, the respectful distance he maintains until she signals interest.

"Would you like to dance?" he asks Beth, his voice carrying just enough accent that I think he might be Spanish.

Beth looks at me questioningly, and I can see the internal debate playing out on her face. She doesn't want to abandon me, but she's clearly interested.

I wave her away with perhaps more enthusiasm than necessary. "Go! Have fun. I'm going to get some air and then find the loo."

"You sure?" she asks, already moving toward him but still concerned about leaving me alone .

"Absolutely. He seems lovely, and you deserve some fun." I give her a gentle push toward her admirer. "I'll be fine. Just going to cool down for a minute."

She grins and lets him lead her deeper into the crowd.

I watch them for a moment, Beth laughing at something he says, completely at ease, falling into the rhythm of a slow dance with natural grace.

She deserves this. We both do. A normal Friday night, normal problems, normal flirtations that don't come with surveillance and stolen pillowcases.

The club is stifling now, the press of bodies and the heat making me feel dizzy. I need air, just for a few minutes. The bathroom can wait.

I push through the crowd toward what I hope is an exit, following signs that point toward fire doors. I find myself in a narrow corridor that leads to a side exit, not the main entrance where there's probably a queue and security, but a quieter door that opens onto an alley.

Perfect.

The cool night air hits my face like a blessing. I lean against the brick wall, closing my eyes and taking deep breaths. The alley is narrow, lined with bins and the back entrances to various shops. It's not particularly pretty, but it's quiet and blessedly cool.

I pull out my phone to check the time. Just past midnight. I should go back in soon, Beth will worry if she can't find me. But for now, this feels like exactly what I need. A moment of peace, of solitude, of….

"Not quite the venue I would have chosen for our next meeting. "

My blood turns to ice. I know that voice, that smooth, controlled tone that makes every word sound like a threat wrapped in silk.

I open my eyes, and Sebastian Blackwood is standing at the mouth of the alley, blocking my path back to the street. He's dressed casually, dark jeans, black t-shirt, leather jacket, but somehow he still looks like he owns everything around him.

"How did you…." I start, then stop. It doesn't matter how he found me. What matters is that he's here, in this narrow alley, with me alone and slightly drunk.

"Know you'd be here? Know you'd step outside?" He moves closer, and I instinctively press back against the wall. "I've been watching you all evening, Saphy. You've been having quite the time."

The casual way he says it, like surveillance is perfectly normal, like stalking is just another conversation topic, makes my skin crawl.

"Stay away from me." My voice comes out steadier than I feel, despite the heat now flooding me.

"Now, that's not very friendly." He's close enough now that I can smell his cologne, see the way his eyes reflect the dim light from the street. I flatten myself against the wall, hoping to make myself seem smaller.

"You're insane," I whisper.

"I'm thorough." He places one hand on the wall above my head, effectively trapping me in the alley. "And patient. And very, very determined. "

I fumble for my phone, but his other hand shoots out, faster than I can react, and plucks it from my grasp.

"I don't think so," he says, sliding it into his jacket pocket. “"We need to talk, Saphy. Without interruptions."