I made a wide berth as I headed to the street, making sure I stayed far enough away from the front of the house. The moment my feet hit the sidewalk, I couldn’t stop myself from grinning. The air tasted better out here than it did in there, or maybe that was just because I was free. Temporarily, at least.
Free of my father. Free of the Santos last name. Free of Zander and his watchful eyes. It was just me and my agenda for the night.
It was a good thing my father didn’t care what I did during the day. There was no telling how long I’d stay out tonight; I might have to catch up on my sleep tomorrow during the sunlight hours.
What was tonight’s plan, you might be wondering? Well, for one, I wanted to get the true lay of the city. It was one thing to walk around during the day, but another thing at night. At night, when darkness fell and coated the land, the true faces of the people came out.
Another thing I wanted to do was find the best place to let loose, to take back what was stolen from me—because mark my words, it was stolen. That part of me I could never get back, and the sick thing was, my father allowed it. He’d offered me to another man like I was some kind of prize.
I still remember the man’s face, too. Around my father’s age, a darker complexion. Eyes that held no warmth at all, much like my father’s. A man who took what he wanted with sick glee, not giving a shit about how anyone would feel in the morning.
And me? I think it was obvious how I’d felt.
But that was enough about that. I didn’t want to think about that night three years ago or what came after. Tonight was a new start, and as I headed toward the center of downtown Cypress, I couldn’t stop my heart from beating a little faster.
My father might think he owned me, but he didn’t. I would reclaim who I was, one small fragment at a time, and then I’d piece those fragments together with the strongest superglue known to man, and by the time I was done, I’d be stronger than I was before.
Maybe I’d be strong enough to tell my father no, to deny him, to walk away.
No. Walking away felt like an easy way out, and if there was one thing my pride would not let me do, it was run. Only fools ran. I was no fool. I’d been forced to grow up early, but I was no fool.
The first club I walked to was full of neon lights and two huge men who must be the bouncers of the place. Wearing all black, their heads were shaved—and, believe it or not, they actually wore sunglasses, even though it was nighttime. Right before the club was a parking lot, and I walked a zigzag through the fancy, expensive cars, heading straight to the two intimidating men. My fingers reached into my pocket for my fake I.D. and some cash. I didn’t know if there was an entry fee or not.
My eyes zeroed in on the two men standing guard outside the club’s doors, and I was about twenty feet away when I felt a strong hand wrap around my upper arm and stop me cold. It was like the world itself stopped turning, everything freezing around me.
Bare skin on mine, fingers curling around my forearm. Strong, too strong, so strong I wouldn’t be able to escape. But that’s the thing: there always was a way out. I knew that now. I wished I would’ve known it then.
Once I got my breathing under control, I whirled around, my other hand curling into a fist and hitting the stomach of the person holding onto me. The arm he’d grabbed clutched the I.D. and the money, and once he let me go, wheezing from the blow, I shoved that stuff back into my pocket, ready for a fight.
But then I saw who it was, and I got even more enraged.
Zander was before me, doubled over with a hand over his stomach. “Good one,” he winced out, slow to straighten his back. He wore the same clothes he’d worn earlier, which meant he never went home.
The bastard.
“Don’t fucking touch me,” I told him. “Don’t you ever touch me again, do you understand?”
He held up both hands. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you—”
“You didn’t scare me,” I hissed out, glaring. I opened my mouth to say more, to explain to him that my aversion to strangers touching me was not because I was scared of him, but then I realized he’d never understand, so I closed my mouth and continued to glare. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” Zander said, no longer grimacing from my hard punch to the gut. “You should be in bed, fast asleep, dreaming of… something. Not hitting the clubs. It’s not safe for you.”
“Maybe not for Giselle Santos,” I whispered, “but for Josefina Baez, it’s fine.”
“Josefina… who?”
I reached into my pocket and pulled out the I.D., showing him exactly who Josefina was. The nighttime air whipped past us, causing my blond hair to sway. Zander’s eyebrows came together when he saw the name on the card.
“How in the hell did you get that?”
“A girl doesn’t spill her secrets,” I said, stuffing it away once more. “Now, if you give your word that you won’t run and tattle on me, I’d very much like you to leave me alone.” The last thing I needed was my father finding out about this.
Zander sighed. “Your father doesn’t care what you do, as long as you’re safe—”
“And not smearing his name through the mud, or putting his empire at risk,” I added. “Can’t forget those, Zander.” When it came to being conceited, no one had my father beat.
He waited a moment before saying, “I’m not going to tell your father, okay? But if you think I’m letting you walk around this city at night, alone, you’re crazy. Especially if you’re going into a place like that.” Zander gestured to the club.