Eventually, she was able to breathe normally. She opened her eyes, realizing a very big problem remained right there in front of her.
Fritz and Benny were skimming the coke, using plaster to make the brick look bigger than it was. She had seen it, which meant she really had only two choices: she could tell the family or keep it to herself.
There were very real risks that came with either choice. If she kept it to herself, there was a high likelihood the truth would be revealed, and Benny and Fritz would throw her to the wolves. Plus, they would likely use their knowledge of the family to take advantage of her in some way.
If she told the family, she worried she would somehow get blamed. It wasn’t like she could give the info and be done with it. Fritz and Benny would be questioned, and who knew if the family would believe her, an ignorant outcast member forced into acting as a stash house.
She had to get her body moving when she started with these contemplative thoughts. She had to get out of the environment that triggered such a sensation.
It was nearly evening, the sun dropping below the horizon like a blazing orange ball. She dolled herself up to go for an evening out of her apartment prison. She could dance the night away and distract herself with a few drinks, along with, perhaps, some bedtime accompaniment.
Emma quickly showered and got dressed in a sexy black dress. She was showing off some generous cleavage and leg peeks, which wasn’t usually her go-to. But she was feeling daring, oddly, in an attempt to escape the perpetual anxiety of her day-to-day life.
She made sure to attend a club far away from any Fontana family establishment. She chose one she had gone to before with some friends. One that seemed safe enough and was a short cab ride home.
Emma arrived at the club and got inside quickly and easily, as most women tended to. She avoided eye contact with all the men who looked her up and down. She thought for a moment that her dress was likely to garner more attention than she desired, but why was that her responsibility? She was allowed to look sexy at any given time.
She stood by the bar and had a drink to summon the courage to dance. A few men came into her line of sight, and she batted them away, telling them that she was meeting her boyfriend. She hated that she had to use that excuse to keep them away, but it was the fastest and easiest way to reject unwanted attention.
Soon enough, Emma felt the two whiskey sours hit her, and she slithered onto the dance floor. Her eyes closed, and she was lost in the music, doing everything she could to ignore the image of a gun pointed at her head. The lights in the club flashed neon blue and violet, and she found herself wishing she could blend into them.
After a few songs, Emma was feeling spent. She ran her hands through her hair, feeling the sweat coating the soft locks. She stopped for a moment and held her hands on her head, her strong arms held up and exposing her armpits.
It was then that she had an intuitive stabbing sensation, and she opened her eyes swiftly.
Across the dance floor was a man sitting at the bar. He looked tall, even from the distance. His hair was slicked back, and he wore an expensive-looking suit, black as night, an identically shaded button-up straining against his throat. He stared at her with narrow eyes like the king of the jungle zeroing in on its next meal.
Trying to look away, Emma kept dancing, but she could feel his eyes on her. A naughty whisper in her mind made her play with him, briefly, holding her arms in the air and swaying her hips in a sensual flow. But when the song ended, she found he was still staring at her like she was a ship on his radar.
Her gaze fixed on him without realizing it, a flicker of gold flashing through his dark glare. It gave her a shiver mixed with fear and intrigue.
What if the guy was a part of another family, or her family, or even someone sent by Fritz and Benny to keep an eye on her? Emma needed to get the fuck out of there.
She wasn’t willing to take any other risk that night. She made her way into the bathroom. It was mostly vacant, and she sat in the end stall for a while, thinking about what she should do. Once the last person left, she scurried out and noticed a window that led to the alley.
Emma certainly had some curves, but she was sure she could wriggle her way out of the window when the adrenaline soared through her. She stood on the toilet seat, raised the window, jumped up, and dangled the top half of herself outside.
But her hips were larger than she thought, making it difficult to seamlessly slide out the way she had envisioned.
“Fuck,” she whispered to herself.
“Need some help?”
Emma knew instantly who the voice belonged to, even if she’d technically never met the man. She wiggled her hips side to side, using one arm to press her breasts close together so she could slide out. She felt someone’s hands on her waist. They were strong and reassuring.
He helped her scoot out of the window by gently pulling her upper body and then planting her down against the brick wall. She pulled away, trying to guard herself, but was stuck there by the specimen before her.
The man was huge with striking facial features that made her weak in the knees. That jawline could cut glass, and he had a mouth that was sure to tear flesh easily from limbs.
She backed up against the wall as he lifted one hand over her head, the other coolly placed in his pocket.
“Where do you think you’re going, pretty lady?” he asked.
No question it was the man from the club, and his eyes were more gorgeous than ever. Despite the dimly lit alleyway, the gold accents were mesmerizing and were boring into her like a blinding light.
“I was going home,” Emma said, having trouble finding her voice.
“Oh no, not yet,” the man said. “A woman like you is way too sexy to go home alone.”