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played. People are still sipping at their drinks while they enjoy the music. The apple trees still gleam, beckoning like the dark promise of the Garden of Eden.
    It’s like what happened in the service hallway occurred in a parallel dimension, and for a moment I wonder if the prospect of this job has made me hallucinate.
    And then Henry is at my side, for all appearances calm, though he’s breathing hard. His hand clamps around my upper arm, and though I immediately try to jerk away, he holds tight.
    The blade is gone, probably tucked away in the pocket that’s above the big rip in his pants—the rip that I put there when I defended myself.
    Yes, this is real. And I’m not safe yet.
    “We’re going to my room, right now. We’re going to finish this.” Henry bites out the words, pinching his fingers into my arm with a cruel touch.
    “Fuck you.” I jerk away, my skin burning where his fingers rip over my flesh.
    “What the fuck is going on?” The voice booms out across the lobby, a shot of whiskey to numb the pain. I turn instinctively toward the sound without knowing why, seeking safety.
    And I see Adam Kincaid, six feet three inches of rock god in torn denim, striding across the lobby towards us—toward me. His expression starts as only vaguely concerned, but once his eyes scrape over my torn dress, the blood on Henry’s face, I can see a rage that’s terrifying because it’s so icy cold, building across that dangerous face.
    What the fuck is Adam Kincaid doing here? Two sightings in one day—what are the chances?
    A brief memory of him noting Henry’s name on the sheet of paper that I dropped... of offering me money so I didn’t have to follow through my first job...
    I get it. He’s here for me, because underneath that asshole exterior is a good soul and a soft heart.
    But I don’t need a Prince Charming to save me. I learned that early on, that no one was going to look out for me but me.
    So while Henry shouts at Adam to mind his own business, I slam my elbow into his ribcage, following it with a swift uppercut to his jaw. He grunts, grabs for me, knocks me off balance on my ridiculous shoes.
    I see Adam lunge to catch me as I fall, but Henry throws a punch at the rocker. I see something dark pass through Adam’s eyes, those eyes that are not quite green and not quite brown, as I fall.
    And then my temple connects with something hard, pain shoots through my skull, and my entire world goes black and soft.

Chapter Three
     
    The music is what wakes me. Soft, aching chords of an acoustic guitar, they melt effortlessly into my dream, and when I open my eyes into the dark, it takes a minute to get my bearings, to understand what is the dream and what is reality.
    My fingers clutch involuntarily, reaching for something, anything to anchor me as echoes of terror slam through me. I’m in a strange bed, in the dark. But when my hands slide down my body, I discover that I’m still fully clothed, in my fancy but cheap underwear and tattered dress. I feel a little pang over that... finding a real silk dress that actually fit at a thrift store for cheap is not something I’m going to be able to pull off again. Though I suppose it doesn’t matter, because right now, as I absorb the little aches and pains from my encounter with Henry Thomas, I can’t imagine going back to this job.
    A s I try to sort through my senses and clear the fog in my head, I blink and focus above me. The ceiling is picked out in hundreds, thousands of little glow in the dark stars... something entirely too whimsical and wonderful for a monster like Henry Thomas.
    The music, the stars... I’ve got a pretty good idea of where I am. Or who I’m with, at any rate. But I have no idea why.
    Scrubbing my hands over my eyes as I slide from the tempting softness of the bed, I lick my dry lips and tiptoe toward the sound of the music, desperate for a drink of water.
    The door of the bedroom leads to a small, galley style kitchen done up in