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my body.” She’d chosen the job for this very reason, and she’d never had any problems with nudity, a result from years of changing costumes in close quarters with other dancers, both men and women.
    Annette came in with a funny expression on her face. “Emma? There’s a guy on the phone for you. Sounds like he needs help.”
    “It’s not Dan, is it?” Nathaniel asked.
    “No,” Annette said. “Says his name is Quentin.”
    Nathaniel grinned. “Is that the guy?”
    Emma rolled her eyes, but nodded.
    Annette made an exaggerated happy face. “What? There’s a guy? Was it the guy in the club tonight? He was hot —”
    But Emma was already out of the room, heading for the office. Ruby, one of the owners, was in there, studiously playing a game of Spider solitaire on the computer. When she saw Emma, she waved a hand toward the phone.
    Emma picked it up. Before she could even say hello, Quentin spoke. “I’m in trouble,” he said.
    His voice was gravelly, low.
    “What do you mean? And why should I help you?” But she was already heading for the lockers at the back of the office to grab her purse. There was something in his voice, something desperate. And dammit, Emma didn’t understand any of her feelings right now, but they were clearly telling her to do whatever it took to help this guy.
    “Please,” he said. “No one else to call.”
    “Where are you?”
    He named some side road out in the middle of nowhere, so she plugged it into her cell phone.
    “Okay, I’ve got the place on GPS,” she said. “Here’s my phone number, so you can call if anything changes.”
    “Thanks, Emma.”
    “No problem.”
    They hung up, and she remembered with a groan that she’d walked to work, so she’d have to walk all the way back.
    Nathaniel was outside the office, waiting for her. “I need to get home early tonight,” he said, “but I can drive you to your car.”
    “Thanks.” She sagged against him with relief. “We should get going, then.”
    Nathaniel looked intently at her. “You want me to come with? I can cancel my plans—Jerod will understand.”
    “No, it’s okay. I think he just needs a ride.”
    *
    As she drove along the deserted back roads, Emma wished she had taken Nathaniel up on his offer to come with her. It was spooky out here, the trees crowding the lanes, rising up past the insignificant glow of her headlights. She knew she was in the right place, because her phone told her so. After about forty minutes, she saw a ghostly black truck pulled over to the side. She slowed down, and screamed when a hunched figure emerged from behind it. The figure’s eyes reflected in her headlights, making it look demonic.
    She thought of gunning the engine and speeding past.
    She recognized Quentin’s white-blond hair, though. Hand to her throat, she let out a shaky laugh. She slowed to a stop and unlocked the passenger door.
    He climbed in and buckled up one-handed, as if favoring his right arm. “I didn’t think you’d take so long.”
    “Excuse me, but I had to drop everything to come out here.” She sounded harsher than she’d meant to, because the truth was, she was glad he’d called her.
    “No, I’m grateful,” he said, touching her wrist. “Truly. It’s just more dangerous now.”
    She made a U-turn and started driving, but caught a glimpse of him in her peripheral vision. “Were you bleeding? There’s something dark, near your nose.”
    “I’m okay.”
    “Why are your eyes…they look really weird.”
    He closed them. “Don’t worry about it. Weird genetics thing.”
    The road stretched before them. “So what happened?”
    He was quiet for so long she thought he might not tell her. “My truck got a flat. Then two guys jumped me.”
    “They jumped you? Did you call the police? Of course not,” she muttered, “because I’m here. Why would they do that?”
    “Bad blood. Can you drive a little faster?”
    She gave a pointed look at the dashboard. “This baby’s sixteen