A Taste Of His Control

Chapter Four

Due to a sudden pile-up of end-of-month reports, I ended up having to meet Lillian directly at the club instead of driving there together. By the time I finally pulled my car up to the venue, the dashboard clock read well past midnight.

Stepping out into the cool night air, the dark alleyway outside the club gave me an immediate, eerie feeling. The bass from inside vibrated through the pavement beneath my heels.

A sharp whistle cut through the air.

I turned my head toward the sound and instantly froze. Three dangerous-looking men were leaning against a brick wall, their eyes raking over me shamelessly. I shuddered.

"Come over here, baby girl," the one in the middle muttered, stepping forward. He was clearly the leader of their little group.

"Not in your wildest dreams, baby boy," I yelled.

Before he could even register my words, I turned and sprinted through the front doors of the club, bursting into the safety of the crowd. Today was absolutely not the day I was going to let myself get harassed by three ugly men in an alley.

Fortunately, Lillian had texted me her exact location earlier, so navigating the flashing strobe lights and packed dance floor wasn't too difficult. When I finally spotted her sitting at a booth near the bar, my heart sank.

She was sobbing hysterically. Even more than I was this morning.

An immediate wave of worry washed over me.

Did that Ethan guy do something to her? I quickly slid into the seat right next to her, and the moment she noticed me, she let out a loud wail and burst into a fresh wave of tears. She slammed back a large sip of her drink, which I could tell was straight up alcohol just from the pungent smell alone.

"What's wrong?" I asked urgently, rubbing soothing circles into her back. "And where on earth is Ethan?"

"He... he left," she sobbed, the words muffled against her sleeve.

"I'm guessing your dream date didn't exactly go as planned, then."

Lillian nodded miserably. It was incredibly rare to see her this broken down, which meant she must have really fallen hard for him. "Do you want to talk about what happened?"

"He said... he said he didn't see me that way," she whined, wiping her nose. "He told me I was like a sister to him. He even brought his girlfriend along!"

I blinked, completely stunned. "Hold on. Don't tell me you've been hitting on a taken man this entire time?"

"I didn't know!" she cried defensively.

"He was giving me all these signals, Annie. I genuinely thought he liked me!"

"I'm really sorry, Lil," I sighed, pulling her closer. "Let's get out of here and go find an ice cream parlor. We can drown our sorrows together and complain about our horrible luck in love."

"No," she said stubbornly, slamming her empty glass onto the sticky table. "I want to dance."

"You can dance in your living room."

"I said no!" She pointed a trembling and slightly uncoordinated finger at me, her head swerving to the side. "Don't be a party pooper, Boss." She was completely wasted.

I sighed, realizing there was no use arguing with a drunk dictionary. "T'll give you exactly five minutes on that floor. Then we are leaving. Deal?"

"Yay!" She clapped her hands together like a toddler and stumbled her way toward the crowded dance floor.

Every time Lillian drank, I felt less like a friend and more like a weary mother tracking a toddler. Speaking of dependent creatures, I suddenly wondered how my cat was faring at home without me tonight. At least he didn't drink tequila.

Suddenly, a sharp cry of pain cut through the loud music.

My internal alarm bells went off almost instantly. I scrambled out of the booth, my eyes scanning the flashing lights. I shouldn't have left her unmonitored for even a single second.

A few feet away, a remarkably tall man had Lillian trapped by the arm. A woman was standing right beside him, watching the exchange. His grip looked incredibly tight, tight enough to bruise.

Rage, pure and blinding, flooded my veins.

That had to be Ethan and his girlfriend. How dare he come back into this club just to put his hands on my friend?

I began stomping toward them, the crowd parting slightly under the weight of my fury.

As I got closer, a fleeting thought crossed my mind-the woman standing next to him looked strangely familiar, she looked like the lady who had handed me the handkerchief at the café earlier-but I didn't have the mental

capacity to care.

"Hey!" I yelled, my voice cutting through the noise as I reached them. "Get your hands off my friend."

And fueled by every ounce of frustration, heartbreak, and boiling anger inside me...

I slapped him.