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***

When the club closed, I gathered up my things in a rush and fled as soon as I could.

I didn't want to think about my interaction with Corden, and hearing the girls gossip about him and ask me questions wouldn't help. After I kicked him out only an hour ago, the only thing I wanted to do was go home, curl up with a pint of ice cream, and reflect on my decision.

It was for the best, right? I've repeated that to myself at least a hundred times since he walked away. I shouldn't get caught up in whatever Corden dabbles in, so it doesn't matter if he makes me feel alive around him. We're not the people we are outside those four walls. In real life, we're different. Whatever I think I feel for him won't last.

Riley and I's apartment is only six blocks away from the club, so most nights I opt to walk home rather than take the subway. Tonight, however, I get the strange sense I'm being watched. I didn't see anyone follow me when I exited The Harbor, and given the state of my mental health, it won't surprise me if my brain is conjuring up this anxious, foreboding feeling.

Pausing at an alley only a block from the club, I glance over my shoulder, but all I see is an empty street aside from a drunk man stumbling to find his way home, far too intoxicated to be scheming up a kidnapping.

You're just freaking yourself out, I chastise. Nothing is wrong, Carmen.

Still, I pick up my pace and grip my duffel bag tighter before turning down 59th Street.

"Hello."

Holy FUCK.

My heart jumps into my throat when I almost collide with a man I've never seen before. I stumble back, attempting to regain my footing, but it's too late. I trip over a ledge in the sidewalk and land on my ass before I scramble backward.

His features are somewhat hidden behind a ski mask, but his eyes are green. A shade of emerald that promises death. "I've been looking for you." He chuckles before he grips one of my forearms and hauls me to my feet, no doubt leaving a mark behind. "You're difficult to locate, pretty little thing. My boss is going to be thrilled when I turn you in."

What is it with men who think it's okay to take advantage of women? More importantly, why are they so quick to underestimate us?

While this random stranger backs me into the alley, where we'll be out of sight for anyone passing by to notice, I slowly trail my hands to my pocket while I attempt to keep him distracted. "W- Who's your boss?" Dammit. I can try to sound confident all I want, but I can't hide the unsteadiness in my voice. My pulse is skyrocketing, a nervous trail of sweat breaking out along my spine.

He flashes a menacing smile before he pulls out a knife. "You'll find out soon enough, sweetheart. But first..." I'm pressed against a brick wall now with nowhere to go. My hand is clutched around the only saving grace I have, but I have to wait for the right moment. "Let's have some fun, shall we? I saw your little show. Liked what I saw."

Fucker. He's such a disgrace to humankind. It's an effort not to spit in his face when his hand lands on my waist. Thankfully, I always change after my sets, so I'm in sweatpants and a sweatshirt rather than lingerie. The man towering over me eyes the outfit like it's damn near the same, though.

"I wonder what you'll look like when you feel me inside you," he whispers, hand coming up to clasp my throat. He flexes hard enough to block airflow, the grip on my saving grace growing tighter. "What a precious little weapon you'll be."

Men like this are trained to harm innocent women, which is why I have to distract him before I make my move. He can't see it coming or else I'll be screwed, so I fight the loss of oxygen with everything I have and roll my plan into motion.

Rather than fight, I lean into it despite every ounce of my being pleading with me to run. "What if I said...I wanted it?" I gasp, vision growing blurry. "What if...choking turns me...on?"

His pupils dilate, and I've got him right where I want him. He's picturing me in a hundred different positions, so I bring my arm up to—

"Motherfucker!"

I can't move my head from the force of the man's hand, but the voice sounds familiar. My thoughts are foggy, though, so when the stranger whips his head to whoever is at the end of the alley, I don't dwell on it before I strike.

Pepper spray hits his face before he realizes it's happening. He staggers back as his hands fly to his eyes, thankfully allowing me to breathe. I gasp to take in the air just as Corden stalks towards the man who attempted to harm me, but before he can inflict any pain, I beat him to it.

My fist flies for my attacker's nose, and it lands exactly where I intend for it to. Blood gushes from his face, seeping out of the mask when I lurch forward and wrap his head in a headlock. The man writhes in my grasp, but I'm strong enough to hold him. Pole dancing isn't for the weak. Maybe he should have considered I'd be strong.

"Sleep tight," I whisper with a smile. Then, putting my fingers on the right pressure point, his body grows limp beneath me, signaling he's out cold.

I allow his body to hit the concrete with a thud. Corden stands a few feet away, panting and out of breath. He eyes the unconscious man with raised brows, and then he laughs. He just witnessed me go ape shit on someone and doesn't seem fazed at all. "Why am I not surprised?" He seems to ask himself more than me.

I stand up straighter and roll my shoulders back, refusing to allow him to see how shaken up I truly am. If one thing had gone wrong during that plan, I... I don't even want to think about what could have happened. "I took self-defense classes," I explain. "My friend had a bad experience with men in the past, so..." I shake my head, clearing my thoughts. "It doesn't matter. He just fucked with the wrong person is all."

"Apparently."

"Have you been stalking me too? How did you find me here?"

Corden focuses on my neck, and his face settles into one of a cold-blooded killer. My throat feels tight and raw, so I can only assume my attacker left a handprint behind, or worse. "I've been coming to the club to ensure your safety. I know you didn't want to see me, but watching you dance was my way of trying to avoid...this."

"Are you saying you know him?"

"Heard of? Yes. Associated with? No. I don't surround myself with such scum." His nostrils flare as he zeroes in on my neck again. "I let my desires get the best of me, Hadari, and because of that, I've involved you in a mess you shouldn't be a part of. I'm afraid there's no turning back, though. Not after this."

"What the hell are you talking about, Corden?"

"I don't have time to explain," he says as he pulls out a burner phone. "Not here. I have people who would love to see me dead, and that includes harming those close to me. Now that you're on their radar..."

Pieces of the puzzle begin to click together. "The man who approached us at the bar saw us together. He's one of those people, isn't he?"

"Was," Corden responds tightly.

I gulp harder than I should. "And I'm assuming he reported us to...who? His leader? Boss?"

"Later," he warns. "Please come to my house so I can figure all of this out. It's not safe for you to be alone. Especially if you have others you care about. They'll stop at nothing to get to me, and I'd prefer to have security in place and the details sorted out before you return."

What in the actual hell have I gotten myself into?

Just as I suspected, Corden is dangerous, but if he's telling the truth about these people coming after me just to get to him, and if they're willing to go to any lengths to do so, I don't want Riley to be caught in the crossfire. The smart option would be to allow Corden to put security in place. Whatever the hell that means.

Corden is still a mystery, but I trust my judgment enough to be confident that he's nothing like the man who just tried to attack me.

As much as I value my pride, I value my safety more.

"Please," Corden urges. My eyes meet his, breathless from his gaze. "Can you trust me?"

I give him a look of disbelief in return. "No. I'm not naive enough to trust you, Corden, but I also know it's best for my well-being if I leave with you only so we can find out how to fix this fucking mess. Whoever is hunting you needs to realize nothing is going on between us. Until that happens, I'm not going to risk the people I love getting hurt."

Something akin to respect flares in Corden's eyes. "I appreciate your honesty. Can we at least agree the man unconscious is scum?"

"Now that is something we can agree on."

Before I can even blink, Corden removes the same pistol he showcased with the man at the bar and puts a bullet through his chest. The gun is quiet, hardly making a sound.

"A silencer," I muse. "Smart."

Corden's brows fly to his forehead. "Most witnessing a murder would puke or cry right about now."

He's right, and the thought crossed my mind too as soon as he pulled the trigger.

"Maybe I'm just in shock," I say.

What I refuse to admit is the way my thighs are pressed together at the sight of Corden's buttons ripped open, revealing a gold chain tinged with blood splatter. I won't comment on the way my blood is thrumming beneath my skin, hot and laced with nothing but adrenaline and...lust. The normally put-together, crip-suit man is deranged and unruly, and it's a side of him that is much hotter than it should be.

"Maybe," Corden says deeply in a tone that leads me to think he doesn't believe me. "That man was a piece of shit for putting his hands on you, and I vow to find the one responsible for this attack and end their life, too."

"I handled him myself," I remind him. "I'm the one who knocked him out cold. Don't act like you're Prince Charming who came to my rescue."

His grin kicks up a notch. "I'm well aware of that, Hadari, and I must say, I enjoyed watching you defend yourself more than I'll care to admit." Heat fills his stare, and that same magnetic pull threatens to drag me under. Corden is not someone I should be turned on by. All I'm doing is going home with him so he can get us out of this disaster of a situation.

That's the only reason.

"So, what do we do now?" I ask to change the subject. "We can't exactly leave him here, right? My fingerprints are all over him."

Corden presses a button on the burner phone, extending his arm for me to grab onto. "I've got it handled," he says. "For now, all you need to worry about is getting an ice pack on your throat so it can heal."