restrooms and is looking toward the front of the building.
I’m a few steps away from the restroom when a man thrusts into me and pushes me toward the back of the hallway. I push against him, but my force is nothing against his brute strength.
“Get off of me!” I yell into the deafening music.
“It’s okay, Amelia. It’s me, Rocco.” He hushes me with his hand as he forcefully moves me toward an exit, burying me into his thick-bellied side.
In his jeans and button-down, I didn’t recognize him.
I know Rocco. He’s been good to my family for a while now. My guard is lowered, but my what the fuck meter is on high alert. He opens the back door and walk-drags me with him down the stairs toward an alleyway and a waiting Lincoln parked behind the club.
“Stop! Where are you taking me?” I demand.
He turns and explains abruptly, “You’re in trouble, Amelia.”
I push back and forth, against the strength of his insistence that’s moving me with him toward the car. “What kind of trouble?”
“Your father sent me to bring you to him.” He sounds out of breath as he opens the passenger door.
“My father? The same man who told me to stay home wants me to go to him? He must be pissed that I left the house. I’ve been asking about his whereabouts all weekend, and now, he wants to tell me where he is?”
While Rocco has no reason to lie to me, I have this feeling in my gut that something is wrong. I turn in the alleyway, looking at my surroundings. It’s dark back here. The air is chilly, and I feel cold. There’s no one out here, except for us, which is creepy. In a city of eight million people, there’s always someone around.
“What about Sienna?” I thumb back toward the club and the steel back door.
He tugs on my arm again. “Her father doesn’t want her.”
“But she’s at the club. I have to tell her I’m leaving.”
“She’ll be fine.” He is hurting my wrist with the way his fingers are wrapped around it. “Give me your bag.”
I pull it close to me and try to step away. “I need to get Sienna!”
“There’s no time. Get in the fucking car, Amelia.”
It’s in this moment that I see it. The menacing glare that pours through his black eyes. Jesse told me not to trust anyone. He included himself, which means no one is off-limits.
Rocco might be a friend of my father’s, but he’s also been someone who just appears. Like when we go to restaurants, he’s always behind me. And when I go to work, it’s his car I see—I’m certain of it. Rocco’s been following me for some time now. The bubble my father created for me has kept me blind to the outside world. To the truth.
“No!” I yell, hoping someone will hear me.
He doesn’t like my resistance. Rocco places his arms on my biceps and grips them harshly. I can feel my skin bruising as he tugs. My palms are sweaty, and my chest quakes. I’m frightened, not knowing what will happen if he gets me into that car.
I kick him in the shin, but he won’t budge. Thrashing and fighting, pushing and shivering, my body goes wild as I try to get away. His strength is too much, and my adrenaline can only last for so long before I start to lose steam. The harrowing feeling of failing to get away takes over my gut. His will is determined as he forcefully pulls me closer to the car.
I’m almost in when the steel back door of the club comes flying open and slams against the brick wall.
Jesse grunts as he flies over the stair railing and lands at Rocco’s feet. His fist is quick in the perpetrator’s face as he pummels Rocco with sharp and swift jabs. Over and over, Jesse unleashes a fury of violence on Rocco’s face and body. The man doesn’t stand a chance.
I’m panting, gripping my chest as tears well up in my eyes.
Rocco is on the ground, holding his stomach in pain. Blood spits from his mouth. The sounds from his throat are like that of a wounded animal.
Jesse wraps his arms around me. “Are you okay?”
I nod. “I think so.”
His hands are running up and down my arms and then to my waist as he checks for injuries before holding me tightly to him. “It’s official. You’re not allowed out of my sight again.”
“I thought Rocco was