"I'm getting some fresh air before going back upstairs," I say preemptively. Whichever of the guys it is, I don't want them to bother me.

"Then I'll wait with you ma'am," a large man says, shrouded in the half-light of the service hall.

I stiffen in alarm. It's not one of the guys. I step back nervously and cross my arms on my chest to cover my swaying breasts. Of all the bad choices I've made, my wardrobe tonight is at the top of the list.

From his silhouette against the distant ceiling light, I catch a few more clues of this new arrival.

Bald, tall. Wide as a refrigerator, especially because of his fluffy parka. Voice like...

Images of stepping out of the elevator in front of Stay Gold, early in the morning, hit me.

Your business Miss Wa—ma'am?

The bouncer at the club. He knew my name and almost said it, before pretending not to. The same bouncer at the end of the hall, talking to Ty. No, the security guard. Devon's security guard, at the club on the top floor, earlier.

My brain says, security guard who works here, you are okay. But my gut says, run.

The parka. The same man watched my apartment from the street....

"That's all right," I say. "I'm fine, you don't have to stay."

"It's my pleasure, though, to watch you."

Fuck. Fear coils through me. My heart accelerates, making me hyper-aware of every little detail.

"Well, it's late, I'd better go." I move to return, but he sidesteps to block me.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

"You know, I've had my eyes on you for a week," he continues.

"A week?" I breathe.

"Mr. Orlando told me to stand guard at your building, so yeah. Every where you go, while you sleep, I've been there. I know all about you. I heard you singing this morning, in his office. Such a beautiful voice."

"Really?" This is bad. This is so bad. I have to get out. He steps closer. My mind races—I have to get out here. I'm tense, ready to run and scream.

The door to the street is just behind me, leading to a dark alley. I'll have to get out and make it to the street before he catches me, but he's a full foot taller and very close. I'll never get there in time.

I brace, ready to try all the same.

Appeal to his ego, remind him he has a job here.

"Mr. Orlando must trust you a lot to give you this position. And the salary. I've been told it's great for everyone who works here."

"It's not money that I want, though."

I turn and bolt for the glass door. A scream for help is already tearing out of my chest as I hit the release bar and shove the door open. Frigid night air blasts me.

I launch myself into the darkness, yelling with all the power of my lungs. A hand clamps onto my shoulder—an iron vice. I'm yanked backwards. A gloved hand covers my mouth and nose. Another arm snakes around my chest like a barracuda. I can't breathe.

Panic, genuine panic strikes. Adrenaline floods my system and I'm kicking and elbowing my attacker.

I scream through the glove, but it's no use. He tightens his grip on me, squeezing my lungs until stars burst in my eyes. I'm going to faint. I stop struggling, hoping he'll stop compressing my chest. I crane my neck to at least free my nose and get a few whispers of oxygen.

The man sniffs my neck like a dog. Fear needles my gut.

"You smell like sex," he mutters. "I've been watching you for days, and finally had my chance. That other one, the blonde left before I could grab her. I'm not making that mistake twice. Will you sing for me, like you sing for them?"

The blonde. He must be talking about Elana!

The other singers....

I try to scream again, but only muffled whimpers escape the grip of his gloves over my mouth. I kick his legs.

*** ONC 660 word count. Thank you for reading!!! ***