Gentleman Sinner(55)

Then he breathes out, defeated. ‘Come here.’ He raises his arms for me, and I walk right into them, grateful and relieved he’s not pressing me further, though I sense he’s dying to. I bury my face in his shoulder, overcome by his acceptance. By the fact he’s not disgusted by me. ‘I’m sorry about your mother,’ he says in a hushed whisper, and I hold him tighter. ‘What about your father?’

‘I don’t remember him. He died when I was two.’

He breathes out in disbelief. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Stop apologizing. I don’t need your sympathy, Theo.’ I let him hug me, breathing calmly and deeply. He’s the blanket of peace I need. ‘You’re not repulsed?’

Theo withdraws, his chest contracting with a silent laugh, his eyes finding me, his head shaking in wonder. ‘Repulsed? God, no. You’re amazing,’ he says, planting a light kiss on my lips. ‘You’re a survivor. You saved yourself, and that’s admirable. I’m just crushed you went through that on your own.’ He picks me up and carries me to the bed, putting us both back in the exact same positions as before. My eyes are heavy, but I fight to keep them open, my view too spectacular to give up. But then Theo tucks me into his shoulder, kisses my head, and rubs my back, and exhaustion finally beats me.

My eyes close.

But I still see him.

‘And now you’re saving me,’ he whispers quietly.





Chapter 15

I feel my sleepy smile falling from my face as I stretch, my drowsy mind registering the lack of warmth pressed up against me. My eyes spring open, finding the bed beside me empty. Pushing up on to my elbows, I blink as I gaze around Theo’s bedroom, listening for any sounds of him nearby. It’s silent. I look at the bedside clock. Three a.m.

‘Theo?’ I call, pushing to the edge of the bed, my feet sinking into the carpet. I finish my stretch, reaching up to the ceiling before turning on the lamp. Getting to my feet, I head to the bathroom. No Theo. I find my bag on a chair in the corner of his room and pull out some skinny jeans and an oversize white tee, throwing them on quickly and roughing up the waves of my hair. I venture into his extensive private quarters, but after peeking in every room, I still find no Theo. Where’d he go?

The house is silent as I gingerly take the stairs, my hand sliding down the golden banister as I look around, waiting for someone to appear. I make it all the way to Theo’s office without seeing a soul and knock lightly on the door, getting no response, so I try the handle, finding it’s locked.

Pouting to myself, I turn and ponder what to do. ‘Call him,’ I say to myself, jogging towards the stairs to go fetch my phone, but as my foot hits the bottom step, I hear something. I stop and crane my neck to see towards the back of the huge entrance hall, finding a single door slightly ajar. I wander over and push my way through to a long corridor with another door at the end. The walls are bare, the space stark, and the sound of music is muffled from beyond. It becomes louder as I approach, and I push through into another office, this one not as ostentatious as Theo’s, but still very lovely. It’s well equipped, far more functional as a working space, with computers, filing cabinets, and three desks. But no Theo.

Curiosity getting the better of me, I wander across the space and open yet another door, finding yet another corridor, this one far shorter than the last, with many doors leading off each side. A small part of my mind is telling me to turn back, to not venture farther. But a bigger part is urging me forward, promising me answers to questions I’ve asked myself a million times. And that’s a little too hard to resist.

I follow the sound of music to the end and open the door. ‘Like a bloody maze,’ I say to myself as the music hits my ears hard.

My eyes go round, taking in the scene before me, my mouth slightly agape. ‘Oh my God,’ I mumble to myself, my stare nailed to a huge hexagonal cage. There are two men beyond the bars, bare-chested, bare-knuckled, sweaty. And covered in blood.

I wince when one guy slams the other to the floor and starts pounding his face like a madman, blood and sweat flying everywhere, my flinches coming thick and fast. My stomach turns as a crowd around the perimeter of the cage yell and cheer, thirsty for the violence, encouraging it. Then the noise drops when the guy pinned to the floor goes limp and stops trying to fight off his attacker, though the punches don’t slow. If anything, they come faster and harder until I can no longer see the unconscious man’s face through the blood coating him.

What the hell is this place?

I turn and find a round stage behind me, with a runway leading off towards the back. Tables are positioned around the perimeter, people drinking and socializing, and I find myself mindlessly walking towards the raised platform. ‘Oh God, no,’ I breathe, my heart just about ready to explode.

There are poles, and two half-naked women do what can only be described as acrobatics around them, flinging their bodies up and down the metal, getting into some insane positions, and all with skyscraper heels on. My eyes widen further when I note one of the women is Penny, the girl I found in the alley. She looks completely different, her body clear of marks, as she grinds her crotch against the pole. What?

I back up, ready to bolt, trying to wake myself up, because I have to be dreaming. I have to be. The cage, the stage, the dancers and violence. All my worst nightmares are here in this opulent club. The Playground.