Dirty Little Secrets

1

SUMMER’S POV

The club’s back entrance smelled of stale piss and cheap cigarettes. I was twenty minutes late, chest heaving from running the entire way after the damn bus broke down again.

“You’re late again, Summer!” Mr. Noel’s voice boomed the second I slipped through the door. His fat face twisted in anger, veins bulging on his forehead like they were about to burst. “This is the third time this week! Do you think this is a charity? Do you think your pretty face pays the bills around here?”

I stood there, head slightly bowed, fingers nervously twisting the hem of my tiny crop top. “I’m sorry, sir. The bus broke down and—”

“Shut up!” he barked, stepping closer. His breath hit me like a slap—alcohol and onions. “One more lateness and you’re out. Permanently. Now get your ass on that stage and make me money. And smile this time. Customers don’t pay to see your long face.”

“Yes, sir,” I whispered, swallowing the heavy lump in my throat.

He grunted and waved me off like I was trash. I quickly changed into my work outfit: the short shorts that barely covered my ass and the crop top that left my belly ring glittering under the harsh lights. My heart was still racing from the scolding as I stepped into the main area.

The music slammed into me like a physical wall. Disco lights slashed through the thick, smoke-filled air. I forced a smile onto my face—the same fake, painted one I wore every single night—and moved onto the dance floor.

Just dance. Just survive. One more night.

My body twisted to the beat, hips rolling like liquid fire. The lights caught my belly ring, making it flash with every move. Men’s eyes devoured me from every corner of the room. Some whistled. Some stared like hungry wolves. I hated every second of it, but I needed the money. Rent was due in three days. Food was almost gone. This was my life now.

I danced harder, trying to lose myself in the rhythm, pretending I was anywhere else but here.

Then I felt it.

Someone’s gaze heavier than the rest. Different. It was cold and also sharp.

I turned slightly and locked eyes with a guy sitting in the corner. Tall. Dark jacket. Expressionless face. His stare burned through the crowd like ice on fire. For a split second, my steps faltered.

"Who the hell is he?" I thought.

Before I could think any further, a sleazy hand grabbed my waist from behind.

“Come dance with me, baby,” a drunk voice slurred.

I forced my smile even wider and let him pull me away, disgust crawling up my spine like insects. Just another night. Just another customer.

---

A few songs later, the same drunk guy’s grip grew bolder. His hand slid lower, squeezing my ass like he owned it. I tried to twist away politely, but he wasn’t having it. Instead, he started dragging me toward the dark hallway at the back of the club.

“Let go of me!” I yelled, struggling against his iron grip. My voice cracked with real panic now. He was stronger than he looked. His fingers dug into my arm like claws.

“You look too good to waste on one night,” he slurred, eyes glassy and wild. “Come on, just one round. I’ll make it worth your while.”

Someone help… I tried to scream, heart hammering against my ribs. I’d handled worse before, but tonight my body felt completely drained—from the long day, the boss’s shouting, and not eating since yesterday. My vision was starting to blur at the edges.

“Let her go.”

The voice cut through the noise—calm, cold, and deadly.

I looked up. It was him. The guy from the corner. He stood at the end of the corridor, hands loose in his pockets, face completely expressionless. But his eyes… they burned with something dangerous.

“And who the f**k are you?” the drunk sneered, not loosening his hold on my arm.

“None of your business. Let her go while I’m still being nice.”

The man laughed, ugly and drunk. “Why should I? She’s with me.”

His grip tightened even harder. Sharp pain shot up my arm. “Ouch! You’re hurting me!”

That triggered him to move.

The stranger moved without warning.

One punch cracked against the drunk’s jaw with a sickening sound. The fight exploded fast—fists flying, grunts echoing off the narrow walls. The drunk swung wildly, catching the stranger’s shoulder. He didn’t even flinch. He drove another punch into the man’s gut, then an uppercut that sent him staggering backward, bloody and terrified.

People poured out from the main area, phones up, cheering like it was some free entertainment.

“I give up! I give up!” the drunk finally screamed, stumbling away and clutching his face.

The stranger turned to me, breathing steady, not even sweating. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah… thanks for saving me,” I said, my voice shakier than I wanted it to be. I met his eyes—sharp, guarded. I was already calculating my next escape.

"Don’t trust anyone. Especially not strangers who fight like that." That was my thought.

“You’re welco—”

Suddenly the world tilted.

The exhaustion, the stress, the lack of food all day… it all came crashing down at once.

My eyes rolled back.

I collapsed forward.

---

Everything went dark for a moment.

When I came to, strong arms were holding me. I blinked slowly, trying to focus. I was being carried—cradled against a firm chest that smelled faintly of clean soap and something darker, like leather and danger.

“Hey! Hey!” A light tap on my cheek. “Stay with me.”

It was him again. The stranger.

My body felt too light, too weak. I wanted to push him away, to tell him to put me down, but I couldn’t even form the words properly. The cool night air hit my skin as he pushed through the club’s exit.

I felt him lay me gently in the back seat of a car. The engine started a moment later.

As the car pulled away from the club, I caught a glimpse of his eyes in the rearview mirror—watching me. They were blue, beautiful and also captivating.

I should have been terrified. A stranger was driving off with my unconscious body. But right now, all I could feel was the heavy pull of exhaustion dragging me back under.

He looked so calm. So in control.

And yet something deep inside me whispered that this night had just changed everything.

I was too tired to fight it.

My eyes fluttered again, as i finally give in.