Page 22 of Wrecked By You

“And on that happy note, cheers.” She tapped her own bottle of water against mine, then took a long drink. “Can I ask you something?”

“Depends on what it is?”

“Why do you always wear those?” She jerked her chin at my high-necked sweater. “Aren’t you hot?”

In direct contrast to her question, a coldness hit my chest, and my hand automatically traveled to my throat, the ugly scar and evidence of my weakness hidden beneath the close-fitting turtleneck.

I glared at her. “What I wear is none of your business, Miss Reyes. And your break is over, so I suggest you get back to work before I decide I can make do with one less nosy bartender.”

I whipped away, but not before I’d witnessed a flash of profound hurt sweep across her face.

Chapter9

Ella

Correction: First impressions

arealwaysright.

I spentthe remainder of my shift nursing an ache in my chest caused by Johannes’s biting retort to an innocent question. If the tables were turned and he’d asked me the same thing about my outfit, I’d have told him that clothes were a luxury I couldn’t afford but that I tried to look as smart as my bank account permitted.

Instead, he’d bitten my head off and threatened to fire me. It seemed the more time I spent working at Level Nine, the greater my chances of getting fired grew. But no matter how much I thought about it, I couldn’t for the life of me figure out how what I’d said had offended him.

Maybe he had a third nipple and worried about gaping shirts revealing his secret. Or he had a ridiculously hairy chest, hence the high-necked sweaters. Or perhaps he was growing a replacement body part somewhere about his torso or, far more likely, a personality.

God knows he could do with a new one of those.

Pushing aside my fears of losing my job, I smiled and chatted with the customers and made certain I delivered the best service I could. If Johannes chose to fire me, I’d ensure it had nothing to do with my work and everything to do with his attitude. I couldn’t control the latter, but I sure as hell could the former.

I’d bet the only reason he kept his staff was because the tips were so darned good. Ever since I’d started working here, I’d earned more money than I’d dreamed of. Even on non-weekend days, the tips were healthy. Fridays and Saturdays were on another level. I’d only worked one weekend, but Stan had assured me the wad of cash he’d pressed into my hand wasn’t unusual.

As closing time neared, the club emptied out, save for a few stragglers determined to eke out the last few minutes strutting their stuff on the dance floor. I grabbed a cleaning cloth, and a few minutes later, Tiffany joined me. She’d taken me under her wing, and in the short time I’d worked here, I’d grown fond of the beautiful, leggy blonde. Guilt pricked my chest at the clichéd assumption I’d made when I’d arrived for my first shift, though there was no denying I was the odd one out. A plain Jane in a sea of stunning beauties, and I couldn’t help wondering why Johannes had hired me when I was so different from the other women. Even the male bartenders were attractive. Not that it mattered. He had, and I was determined to cling to this job by my fingernails if necessary.

“You look beat,” Tiffany said when I yawned for the fifth time straight. “Why don’t you take off? I’ve got this.”

As much as I’d love to take her up on the offer, after the earlier spat with Johannes, the last thing I needed was for him to think I was slacking and pushing work on the other staff members. I shook my head.

“I’m good. I like to do my fair share.”

“Ella, you do more than your fair share. I thought that on your first night, and I’ve thought it every night since.” She nudged me. “Go on. It’s five minutes.”

I cast a furtive glance around the empty club. I couldn’t see Johannes, but knowing my luck, he’d catch me as I stepped outside and that’d be it. No more job, no more enormous tips. I couldn’t risk it. Not even for five minutes.

“I’d like to finish.”

Tiffany shrugged. “Suit yourself.” She grabbed a cloth and ran it under the faucet, then scrubbed at a sticky cocktail stain on the bar while I put away the last of the glasses. Stan did his final checks, then handed out our tips. My eyes bugged out. Another fabulous night. It was still early days, but if this continued, then in a few months, I might even be able to afford the rent on a place of my own.

I’d miss Ginny, of course, but I owed it to Chloe to show her that it was important to work hard and reap the rewards. Kids were sponges, and I didn’t want her getting the impression that someone else would take care of her. My daughter would grow up independent and able to take care of herself, and never,ever,allow a man to control her the way I’d allowed Mateo to control me. I’d been too immature, too blinded by his smooth, sophisticated style. Too enraptured by his extravagance. I’d loved living in luxurious surroundings and being able to have whatever I’d wanted.

I’d loved having a man to take care of me.

Then the blinders had come off, and I’d had my eyes well and truly opened. And what I’d seen had terrified me.

Chloe would grow up smarter than that. Less gullible, more suspicious and questioning of the people around her. Bad people were everywhere, waiting to take advantage of innocence to further their own ends.

Oh, I had no doubts Mateo loved me. In his own way. But his love came in the form of possession rather than protection. He believed we were his belongings. He owned us, which was the reason he’d never stop searching for us.

And I’d never stop running from him.