Pretending I didn’t see him, I got in my car and started the engine. I fiddled with my hair while I watched him in the rearview mirror as he hurried to get into a blue sedan.

I drove a circuitous route home, always keeping an eye on the sedan that stayed at least three or four cars behind me at all times. I had no idea who he was or why he was following me, and I certainly didn’t want to lead him to my apartment. I mulled over what to do until an opportunity presented itself.

The stoplight ahead was green, so I slowed down. It turned yellow as I drew near, then red just as I hit the line. I gunned it, stomping on the accelerator and shooting through the intersection, barely missing colliding with traffic crossing the opposite direction. Tires squealed and I heard someone honk, then I was through. A glance in the mirror showed the sedan was stuck behind three cars at the light. I drove quickly to leave him behind, glad to have lost him.

Weird.

I spent the afternoon studying and doing homework before heading in to work. I tried not to dwell on the things Clarice had said, but it was futile. Blane with other women. Blane becoming close with Charlotte. Blane and Kade not speaking.

I was even more despondent than usual. But I didn’t cry. I hadn’t cried since the night Alisha had come over and I’d told her everything. Since then I’d carried on. I worked, I signed up for classes and started attending once the summer session began. I did my laundry, cleaned my apartment, and did all the things one did that said I was living my life.

And I tried to pretend it wasn’t a lie.

I was nearly at The Drop when I saw the blue sedan.

He was trailing me like he had earlier, three cars behind. How the hell had he found me?

He must know where I live.

The thought sent a shiver of fear through me, which I quickly shrugged off. How dare he follow me? Try to scare me? The bastard.

I parked a couple of blocks from The Drop and grabbed my purse. Locking the car door, I started walking, taking the back way in between the buildings. It was light—the sun wouldn’t set for a few hours—but the shadows were thick in the alleyways.

Pausing, I opened my purse and took out a compact. As I powdered my nose, I watched in the mirror. Sure enough, the same guy had gotten out of the sedan and was following me. I took quick measure of him. He was about five eleven, maybe 180 pounds. Not huge, but not small, either.

I snapped my compact closed and resumed walking. My hand remained inside my purse.

Turning a corner, I slipped into the shadows… and waited. When he stepped into view, he was only a foot from me and he had a gun pointed at his chest.

“Who are you and why are you following me?” I asked. The gun was steady in my two-handed grip.

“Whoa, take it easy,” he said in surprise, putting his hands up.

“Answer the questions,” I demanded.

“Listen, lady, I don’t know what you’re talking about—”

I racked the slide on the gun.

“All right, all right!” he said in alarm. “I’m just doing a job, all right?”

“You’re supposed to scare me? Hurt me? Kill me?” I asked. It wouldn’t be the first time, which probably explained my utter lack of shock.

“No, I swear! None of that!”

“Then what?”

The guy swallowed, his eyes on my gun. “This wasn’t supposed to be a dangerous job,” he muttered.

“Tell me!”

“Fine! I was just supposed to follow you, keep an eye on you, make sure nothing happened to you,” he said, then added in an irritated undertone, “though it looks like you can take care of yourself well enough.”

“Who hired you?” I asked, trying to process that he supposedly wasn’t following me to hurt me, but to… protect me? Why?

He pressed his lips together, refusing to answer. I lowered my gun to point it at his knee.

“You like your knees?” I threatened.

Sweat broke out on his forehead and he swallowed heavily. “Fine,” he said. “Blane Kirk hired me, okay? Now can you put the gun down? Please?”

I reeled, the name dropping like a load of bricks on my consciousness. Confusion and shock was followed quickly by rage.

Lowering the gun, I got in the guy’s face.

“You tell your boss,” I spat, “to leave me the fuck alone. If he sends someone else to follow me, he’ll regret it and so will they.”

I left him standing in the alley while I walked quickly to The Drop, my hands shaking uncontrollably as I put the gun back in my purse. When I reached work, I locked myself in a bathroom stall.

My heart was pounding and tears wet my lashes as I tried to hold them back. I breathed, closing my eyes and trying to get a grip.

Why would Blane have someone follow me? It didn’t make any sense. Was he afraid I was going to go to the press about the relationship we’d had? Leak all the sordid details? There were plenty of women who could do that. And if the guy had been telling the truth about making sure nothing happened to me, then what was going on that would put me in danger?

I couldn’t concentrate on any of this, my emotions still overruling my logic. Blane still thought of me, albeit in his usual heavy-handed, controlling way. It was pathetic how much of an impact that made on me. I was pathetic. How embarrassing.

God, I needed a drink.

I escaped the bathroom and clocked in. We were already busy and I had little time to do more than throw a quick hello to Scott and Tish, also working again tonight. However, I did find time to toss back a shot of bourbon, to steady myself.

A group of four college guys came in at some point during the night, setting up at a table close to the bar. They wore casual clothes that I could tell were expensive brands, which meant they had money. I told Scott I’d take the table and headed over there.

They were cute and funny and I flirted shamelessly as I delivered their drinks. Working for tips required its own kind of skill. I used to be friendly but kept my distance. Then a stripper I’d met a few months ago had given me some good advice.

You’ve got assets. Use them to your advantage. Men are fools for a nice set of boobs.

I’d taken it to heart and my tips had improved. Even though the uniform Romeo made us wear irritated me, it showed off an impressive display of cleavage. And judging by the college boys’ lingering stares as they got more inebriated, it worked. If I was lucky, I’d get twenty bucks off that table tonight, maybe more if they got drunk enough.

Scott and I had a good rhythm when we worked together, and he was fun. He teased me mercilessly, making me laugh. I could almost push the whole incident with the man Blane had hired to the back of my mind.

But not completely, which was why I didn’t turn them down when the college guys wanted me to do a round of shots with them. Business was slowing as one o’clock neared, so I didn’t feel guilty leaving Scott behind the bar while I hung out with the table of four, though only two of the guys remained. The others were out on the dance floor with girls they’d picked up.

“So, Kathleen,” one of them said. I thought his name was Bill or Brian, something with a B. “You busy after work?” He’d slung his arm around my waist as I stood next to their high-top table.

I tipped back the shot in my hand, the whiskey burning a fiery path down my throat to my belly, and tried to concentrate on what he’d said.

“Sorry,” I replied. “Gotta get home tonight. Maybe some other time.” I smiled to soften the rejection. Just because I wanted to relieve them of some of their cash didn’t mean I wanted a date, even if he was a good-looking guy.

“We could have a real good time,” he insisted. His hand drifted down to my ass.

“Just the three of us,” the other guy chimed in. I wanted to say his name was Trey.

I looked at him in surprise and he laughed. “Betcha never done that before, right?”

If I’d expected Bill/Brian to object, I was disappointed. He seemed all for the idea. He’d gripped my waist and tugged me back between his thighs so I faced Trey, who’d scooted his stool closer.

“You’re fuckin’ hot, Kathleen,” Bill/Brian said in my ear. “We’ll take good care of you. Don’t you worry.”

I swallowed hard, trying to fight the rising panic in my chest just as Trey leaned over and kissed me. My hands automatically came up to push him away, but they were caught and held by the guy behind me.

Well, fuck. There goes my tip, I thought sourly.

I jerked my head back hard, cracking Bill/Brian in the face. He yelped and let me go. Now free, I hurriedly slipped out from between the two men.

“I’m not into that,” I said calmly from a couple feet away. Bill/Brian was cupping his nose with his hand.

Trey spoke first. “Sorry there, Kathleen. We meant no harm.”

I eyed him suspiciously, but he seemed sincere, for a drunk guy.

“Yeah, sorry,” Bill/Brian said, his voice muffled from behind his hand. “The way you were acting… Well, we obviously got the wrong idea there.”

I nodded and headed back to the bar. So I was such an obviously easy lay that a couple of college guys assumed I would be into a threesome one-night stand?

I poured myself a drink.

“Those guys get out of hand?” Scott asked, sidling up next to me.

I shook my head. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

He nodded wordlessly and moved away, Tish handing him an order to fill.

By the time I’d restocked the bar and had begun cleanup, the table of guys had gone. They left me fifty bucks, which I supposed was their way of saying sorry. Whatever. It was much more than I thought I’d get after nailing that guy in the face.