O N E

The dark silence of the parking lot was a stark contrast to the rambunctious atmosphere of the powerful and covert club, SubTerra. A sizeable crowd had formed by the wood-stained bar, predominately men squawking provocatively in an attempt to cajole the bartender to serve them first. After receiving their drink, they sauntered back to one of the several tables littering the burgundy carpet in front of the large stage. Currently, two women were performing, standing ahead of their band. Some patrons watched, others conversed while the rest were engrossed in the game of football that streamed on the massive television to the left of the dimly lit room. Security guards were scattered throughout, although most were stationed at the doors, their eyes continually scanning the room, waiting for the inevitable shit-fight to erupt. Shouts of disapproval echoed over the music as an official threw a flag for pass interference against the Giants. Zoe watched as the guards braced themselves.

Stepping behind the bar, Zoe slung her bag into the lockers of Simon’s small office. The balding, middle-aged man seated behind the overwhelming desk much too big for the tiny room, looked up as she entered.

“You look tired, Simon,” Zoe noted, chucking her jacket on top of her bag.

“Big day,” he grumbled, running a hand through the little hair he had left. He cocked his eyebrow. “Something you want?”

“They’ve upped my rent. I need-”

Simon raised his hand to stop her. “I can’t give you an advance. You know how Frank feels about handing out advances.”

Zoe exhaled and nodded. “I thought so, but I had to ask. Thanks anyway, Si.”

Before she could make it to the doorway, Simon’s weary voice stopped her. “If you need money, you could always work the floor. Always more tips on the floor. Before you say it,” he chuckled, watching her mouth open in protest. “I know you don’t like parading around in skimpy clothes, but the floor girls do make good tips. I can guarantee some of the regulars would pay you well.”

As much as she hated to admit it, Simon was right. She needed the extra money and the floor girls were always well-paid.

“There’s spare shorts in the last locker, and maybe let the ladies out a little more,” he shrugged, waving a hand towards her scoop-necked tank. Simon laughed at her instinctive reaction to cover her chest. “Modesty isn’t going to get you tips, Zoe. Out there, where do you think they’ll look? Your eyes?”

Feeling defeated, Zoe salvaged a pair of denim shorts from the spare locker. She changed, folding her dark jeans on top of her jacket and reluctantly pulling the neckline of her tank down to expose more of her chest than she would’ve liked. She second-guessed herself the moment she emerged on the floor. Dark, greedy eyes swivelled towards her, lustfully eyeing her like she was a piece of damn meat.

“Women do this all the time,” she coaxed herself. “You need the money. Just get out there.” It took a minute or two before her brain managed to signal her legs to move, but with a deep inhale, she was heading out into the center of the snake pit. 

                                                                       -----------------

As her break arrived, Zoe was amazed at how fast her shift had gone by. There was always a table to clean, an order to take, a drink to deliver. She got a chance to listen to the band playing and was able to see the final score of the Giants game. Already, she’d made close to $200 in tips and it looked like she’d be able to pay her rent this month after all. Zoe smiled at the bar staff as she dumped her tray, moving to Simon’s office to grab her jacket and bag.

It was only 10:30 and Roz’s diner would still be open down the block. The entrance doors squealed with a metallic clink as Zoe stepped into the chilly air of the night. The walk to Roz’s diner was well-lit and generally well-populated. It was one of the only late night diners in the area that served good burgers, rather than the greasy, heart-burn inducing kind.

There was a small commotion at the entrance to the parking lot, explaining the absence of the usual front door security officer, Elford. Zoe peeked around the side of the building, seeing two men involved in a scuffle with Elford planted firmly between them, his arms folded casually across his chest. A second guard jogged from his post in the alleyway to assist and Zoe breathed a sigh of relief. Security at the SubTerra had to be well-qualified but the prospect of two on one made her feel uneasy.

Pulling her jacket tightly around her torso, Zoe began the trek down the illuminated pathway. A man leaned against the wall, almost hidden against gritty bricks, sucking down on a cigarette. The ember burned orange, highlighting dark eyes that gazed at her. Zoe’s breath cinched in her throat. The side of his mouth cocked into a smile, as he took in her curious eyes.

A loud bang echoed from behind her; hard steel colliding with jagged mortar. Pivoting, Zoe saw two patrons stumbling from the stoop. Through their grumbling, it was clear to see they were heavily intoxicated and had been asked to leave the premises. The older man, Zoe recognized. Thomas, Trevor, Tony… Tony, that was it. He was a regular, a firebug with a tendency of being too handsy with the waitresses. And he had spotted her.

“Zoe!” he slurred. “You looked good on the floor tonight.”

His friend stepped forward, awkwardly fumbling forward to slide his fingers against the edge of Zoe’s jacket. “She looks so much better outta her jeans, don’t she?” He raised his eyebrows at Tony, waiting for an acknowledgment.

This one was less regular. Zoe had seen him once or twice, but didn’t know who he was or what he had done.

“Why would you hide those legs?”

Tugging at the sides of her jacket firmly, Zoe decided to slip back into the club where it was safer. She managed to keep her tone professional amidst her concern. “Can you move out of the way, please?”

Tony threw his head back, his actions exacerbated by his alcohol consumption. Grey hair, gelled back on his wrinkled scalp, ruffled with his movement. “You can work out here. Say five hundred for half hour?”

“I don’t do that,” Zoe snapped.

She glanced over Tony’s shoulder, hoping to see Elford returning to his post. But there was no one. She was alone. Alone except for the man in the shadows. Zoe prayed he didn’t join in. Tony took her moment of distraction as his opportunity to slam her against the rust-colored bricks. His fingers dug into her biceps, securing her firmly onto the wall, his friend attempting to yank down the zipper of her shorts. His intoxicated actions were sloppy and Zoe managed to take advantage, kicking at his knees and knocking him onto the pavement. It took him a moment to rise, but when he did anger billowed from his red face, his body poising to lunge at her.

Before he could however, a pair of hands grabbed at his shirt collar. A shaven head thrust forward, connecting with a sickening thud, sending him stumbling backward. Tony’s grip loosened on Zoe as he watched the two men fighting. The mystery man swung, his broad fist colliding with her attacker’s cheek, knocking him to the ground. Knowing that Tony’s grip had slackened, Zoe pushed against him. Although she prepared to defend herself, she breathed a sigh of relief when he retreated, running haphazardly towards the street, leaving his friend in the hands of the towering, enraged beast of a man.

Zoe couldn’t reconcile her knight in shining armour, the one who had saved her, with the animal who was now sitting on her attacker, mercilessly pounding fist into face. Over and over and over again. Blood spilled from the man’s nose and a deep gash on his bottom lip. He was unconscious, his head lolling from side to side with each powerful blow. Zoe’s stomach churned, her mind conflicted.

“Please stop,” she cried, her voice fading out with no resolution. “Stop!”

He's going to kill him.

Bravely, Zoe crouched down in front of the man, hoping he would notice her. She hesitantly wrapped her hand around his wrist, wincing at the impact of another forceful knock. “Hey. You have to stop. He's unconscious. You need to stop."

Instantly, his fists ceased movement, his torso lengthening. Zoe gasped as he looked at her. Blood spattered across his face. Thick hands spread out in front of him, saturated with blood which continued to trickle down his bare arms like a red stream.

“Hey! Get away from her! Get away from her right now!” Elford’s voice was breathless as he ran towards them, drawing his gun from his holster at the sight of the man’s blood-soaked appearance.  

With her heart beating deafeningly in her ears, Zoe jumped up, holding her hands up to Elford to assure him she was unharmed. “I’m okay. They were... He stopped it before..." As Elford returned his weapon, Zoe breathed a sigh of relief. “I don’t want to think what would’ve happened if he hadn’t of been here.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

Nodding, Zoe looked toward the man who had rescued her. He was kneeling now, trying desperately to wipe away the blood from his face with his shirt. He glanced up at Zoe, dark eyes glinting apologetically but he remained silent.

Inky eyes bore into hers, and Zoe felt a wave of electricity pulse through her, sending instantaneous shivers erupting across her skin. It zapped through every nerve and left her speechless. Zoe just shook her head. It was all she could do.

Elford’s voice pulled her from her trance. “While I appreciate you helping, Jon, this seems a little excessive.” The old guard let out a deep sigh, his gaze drifting to the blood flecks spattered across the entrance. “Look, I won’t tell Frank what’s happened. Just next time, stop when the blood starts spraying, for both our sakes. You better go and get yourself cleaned up. I’ll deal with the mess.”

Unable to tear her gaze off her savior, Zoe cleared her throat. “There’s an employee bathroom inside. You can get cleaned up there.”

Avoiding the disapproving glare from Elford, she opened the metal doors, encouraging Jon to follow. He did so, shrugging on a long black coat to cover the blood-stained white tee.

Life inside the club had continued, completely oblivious to the chaos that had occurred outside. No one had even batted an eyelid. In the dimmed lights, his red-tinged hands and blood-splattered face were barely noticeable. The back of his hand brushed against hers as they walked. Zoe glanced towards him, feeling her heart beating faster at the presence of his gaze on hers, at the way his lower lip sucked between his teeth. He kept close as they meandered through the rowdy crowd, so close she could feel the heat of his lumbering physique. Zoe led him to a random red door by the side of the stage and unlocked it, shaky hands fumbling slightly with the keys.

“What is this room for?” The sound of his voice, deep and raspy, reignited the shivers on her skin, and she risked a glance up to see his gaze sweeping the strange configuration of the space. 

Vibrant red shag carpet lined the floor, complimenting the deep burgundy walls. A large, king-sized bed rested against the main wall while an oddly curved, mountainous lounge sat opposite it. Red silk sheets and an abundance of pillows littered the bed. There was a widescreen television mounted on a black, low-line cupboard, a small kitchenette complete with an oven and fridge, and furthest from the red door, a spacious bathroom adorned with a large tub, shower and toilet.

“Not what you’re thinking,” Zoe snorted. “Sometimes we have to work back. Simon thought it was safer for us to stay here overnight, rather than leave once security has gone. Although,” she pointed to the odd-shaped lounge. “I don’t really know what that’s meant for.”

Jon said nothing, only raising his eyebrows in disbelief.

Finally in the light, Zoe could get a good look at the handsome face that had saved her. His head was shaved, the black stubble trailing down to his jawline. Black eyes had now lightened to a dark, chocolate brown. His nose was crooked, looking like it had been on the receiving end of a punch one too many times, and thick, pink lips hid a heart-stopping smile. Her breath grew shallow as her eyes met his, the involuntary shiver rippling across her skin once more. It was hypnotic, irresistible, a feeling that Zoe couldn’t even begin to comprehend.

Zoe cleared her throat, scrambling to bring herself back to the moment. She was desperate to move but it felt like her feet were trapped in hardened concrete. Whatever it was that was burning inside of her was foreign and she was struggling to control it.

“Sorry, I didn’t get your name out there. I’m Jon,” he outstretched his hand, only to recoil at the sight of the blood still smattered across it.

“Zoe.”

“Pretty name.”

Commanding her legs to move, Zoe made her way to the low-line and pulled out a fresh white towel. “Shower’s through there and there’s soap under the sink. I don’t think there are any fresh clothes in here, but your jacket seems to hide most of the...” Her words petered off, her hand waving absently as she avoided looking at the stains on his shirt. Swallowing hard, she fumbled to hand him the towel and hastily made her way to the exit. “Make sure you lock the door on the way out.”

“Will do.”

Zoe watched him walk into the bathroom before she felt brave enough to speak up once again. “Jon?”

His figure came into view, taking up the majority of the doorway. Zoe’s breath hitched in her throat at the sight of his bare, muscular torso. Six defined abs popped out at her and veins bulged along the length of his forearms. Heat flushed to her cheeks, feeling his gaze on her.

“I just… thanks for stepping in out there. You really saved me from a shitty situation.” She felt the tears sting at her eyes at the realization of how close she had come… She didn’t want to finish the thought, shaking her head in an attempt to remove it from her mind.

Warm arms were around her before she could process what was happening. His skin was soft and Zoe embraced the heat surrounding her. His hands brushed against her hair, maybe in an attempt to soothe her. She was shocked by his gentleness, not only because of his intimidating presence but because of the violent way in which he destroyed her attacker just minutes earlier.

Her heart pounded against her sternum as she looked up at him. Earthy eyes took her features in with concern, his tongue gently brushing against his lower lip.

“I didn’t mean to scare you or to, you know, to make a shitty situation worse.”

Zoe’s breath caught in her throat, her palms resting against the hard muscles of his chest. She had to stop herself from moving them, brushing them across the supple, inked skin. She wanted to tell him that she was thankful for his intervention but nothing could escape her lips. His head dipped lower, his breath hot against her face, and for a moment, she got lost in the sensation. Cigarettes mingled with the smell of mint and leather and she found herself growing more and more intoxicated by his presence.

Swallowing audibly, Zoe glanced from his pink lips to the intense gaze of his eyes before the realization of what the hell she was doing hit her. She stumbled back, internally scolding her lack of recognition of the risks associated with a criminal.

“I’m sorry, I don‘t know what – just, thanks again,” she mumbled, unable to meet his shadowy gaze.

Before he could acknowledge her gratitude, Zoe had escaped the room. The door closed with a soft click as she rested against it, taking a deep breath to calm her racing heart. She felt like she had been electrified and the after effects were still shuddering through her. She closed her eyes, slowly steadying her breathing.

What the hell was wrong with her?