Gentleman Sinner

by Jodi Ellen Malpas

  Theo quickly comes to life, following my steps. “Stop walking, Izzy.”

  “Only if you stop looking at me like I’m dirt.”

  “Stop fucking walking.”

  I stop. Theo stops. And I blink, letting a fat teardrop tumble. “I don’t like talking about it.”

  “Fucking hell,” he breathes, raking a frustrated hand through his hair. “I’m shocked, that’s all. You’re so…normal.”

  Normal? If only he knew. I find my eyes dropping to the carpet again, unable to look him in the eye.

  “Is that what you ran from?” he asks.

  I nod, not allowing the blanket of guilt to suffocate me. Guilt for being selective with what I tell him. For bending the truth. His face when I told him what I did to scrape some money together is the one and only reason I need to keep the rest buried. “I needed a fresh start.” I fear the worst when his gaze drops to my stomach, lingering over the sight of my scars. Then he looks up at me, too many more questions in his eyes. My teeth clench, warning him to leave it there, and he studies me so very closely for a few moments, his eyes trying to strip back a few more layers of my history. I won’t let him. It’s a staring deadlock for a few minutes, both of us unmoving and unwilling to say any more.

  Then he breathes out, defeated. “Come here.” He raises his arms for me, and I walk right into them, grateful and relieved he’s not pressing me further, though I sense he’s dying to. I bury my face in his shoulder, overcome by his acceptance. By the fact he’s not disgusted by me. “I’m sorry about your mother,” he says in a hushed whisper, and I hold him tighter. “What about your father?”

  “I don’t remember him. He died when I was two.”

  He breathes out in disbelief. “I’m sorry.”

  “Stop apologizing. I don’t need your sympathy, Theo.” I let him hug me, breathing calmly and deeply. He’s the blanket of peace I need. “You’re not repulsed?”

  Theo withdraws, his chest contracting with a silent laugh, his eyes finding me, his head shaking in wonder. “Repulsed? God, no. You’re amazing,” he says, planting a light kiss on my lips. “You’re a survivor. You saved yourself, and that’s admirable. I’m just crushed you went through that on your own.” He picks me up and carries me to the bed, putting us both back in the exact same positions as before. My eyes are heavy, but I fight to keep them open, my view too spectacular to give up. But then Theo tucks me into his shoulder, kisses my head, and rubs my back, and exhaustion finally beats me.

  My eyes close.

  But I still see him.

  “And now you’re saving me,” he whispers quietly.

  Chapter 15

  I feel my sleepy smile falling from my face as I stretch, my drowsy mind registering the lack of warmth pressed up against me. My eyes spring open, finding the bed beside me empty. Pushing up onto my elbows, I blink as I gaze around Theo’s bedroom, listening for any sounds of him nearby. It’s silent. I look at the bedside clock. Three a.m.

  “Theo?” I call, pushing to the edge of the bed, my feet sinking into the carpet. I finish my stretch, reaching up to the ceiling before turning on the lamp. Getting to my feet, I head to the bathroom. No Theo. I find my bag on a chair in the corner of his room and pull out some skinny jeans and an oversize white tee, throwing them on quickly and roughing up the waves of my hair. I venture into his extensive private quarters, but after peeking in every room, I still find no Theo. Where’d he go?

  The house is silent as I gingerly take the stairs, my hand sliding down the golden banister as I look around, waiting for someone to appear. I make it all the way to Theo’s office without seeing a soul and knock lightly on the door, getting no response, so I try the handle, finding it’s locked.

  Pouting to myself, I turn and ponder what to do. “Call him,” I say to myself, jogging toward the stairs to go fetch my phone, but as my foot hits the bottom step, I hear something. I stop and crane my neck to see toward the back of the huge entrance hall, finding a single door slightly ajar. I wander over and push my way through to a long corridor with another door at the end. The walls are bare, the space stark, and the sound of music is muffled from beyond. It becomes louder as I approach, and I push through into another office, this one not as ostentatious as Theo’s, but still very lovely. It’s well equipped, far more functional as a working space, with computers, filing cabinets, and three desks. But no Theo.

  Curiosity getting the better of me, I wander across the space and open yet another door, finding yet another corridor, this one far shorter than the last, with many doors leading off each side. A small part of my mind is telling me to turn back, to not venture farther. But a bigger part is urging me forward, promising me answers to questions I’ve asked myself a million times. And that’s a little too hard to resist.

  I follow the sound of music to the end and open the door. “Like a bloody maze,” I say to myself as the music hits my ears hard.

  My eyes go round, taking in the scene before me, my mouth slightly agape. “Oh my God,” I mumble to myself, my stare nailed to a huge hexagonal cage. There are two men beyond the bars, bare-chested, bare-knuckled, sweaty. And covered in blood.

  I wince when one guy slams the other to the floor and starts pounding his face like a madman, blood and sweat flying everywhere, my flinches coming thick and fast. My stomach turns as a crowd around the perimeter of the cage yell and cheer, thirsty for the violence, encouraging it. Then the noise drops when the guy pinned to the floor goes limp and stops trying to fight off his attacker, though the punches don’t slow. If anything, they come faster and harder until I can no longer see the unconscious man’s face through the blood coating him.

  What the hell is this place?

  I turn and find a round stage behind me, with a runway leading off toward the back. Tables are positioned around the perimeter, people drinking and socializing, and I find myself mindlessly walking toward the raised platform. “Oh God, no,” I breathe, my heart just about ready to explode.

  There are poles, and two half-naked women do what can only be described as acrobatics around them, flinging their bodies up and down the metal, getting into some insane positions, and all with skyscraper heels on. My eyes widen further when I note one of the women is Penny, the girl I found in the alley. She looks completely different, her body clear of marks, as she grinds her crotch against the pole. What?

  I back up, ready to bolt, trying to wake myself up, because I have to be dreaming. I have to be. The cage, the stage, the dancers and violence. All my worst nightmares are here in this opulent club. The Playground.

  I force my breathing to calm and start pacing back toward the door from which I came, but my steps slow as I register through my anxiety that Penny’s face is glowing. She’s…happy? Enjoying herself? She doesn’t look like she’s here under duress. And then I remember her words when I was tending to her, when I told her she was at Theo’s.

  Then I’m safe.

  I rip my eyes away from her as she bends at the waist, thrusting her arse into a guy’s face, though he remains in his seat, just watching. He doesn’t touch her. Doesn’t even try. I look around, seeing most of the people at the tables around the stage are men, though there are a few women, too, all impeccably dressed. It’s a stark contrast to what I’ve experienced. Some of the crowd are watching Penny and her friend intently, but some are chatting and drinking. There’s no heckling, no men throwing themselves onto the stage. I see a well-appointed bar with sharp bartenders, as well as suited waiters delivering drinks on trays. My shaky being starts to settle a little, and I don’t know why. Everything in here is a trigger to me.

  I wander past the bar in a bit of a daze, trying to take it all in. It’s bustling, the music loud but not ear-piercing or uncomfortable. People can talk easily without the need to shout.

  My pace slows when I catch a glimpse of Theo across the room, and any last scrap of anxiety is chased away at the sight of him. He’s seated in a booth that’s cordoned off with gold posts linked together by th
ick crimson ropes. He’s reclined, a glass in his grasp, but his face is tight, the lines of his handsome features sharp as he talks to a man sitting opposite him. He nods once and stands, offering the guy his hand. They shake and Theo leaves the area, drink in hand. His casual dress is perfectly sexy, just a simple navy shirt open at the collar and tucked into a pair of jeans that fit his long legs too well. I press my lips together, as well as my thighs, an untimely hot flush getting the better of me. As he strides toward the bar, everyone moves from his path, some nodding in respect. It is literally like the parting of the waves. I’m completely rapt.

  And I just remain where I am, my shock at discovering this place being replaced by something that’s dominated me since the moment I met Theo Kane. Wonder. Appreciation. I’m spellbound.

  “Can I help you?” a voice hits me from the side, and I find a waiter giving me the once-over with confused eyes.

  “Um…” I follow his stare down to my bare feet and wince. “No, thank you.”

  “Are you a member?” he asks.

  “Not exactly.” I laugh nervously.

  “Oh.” He smiles. “Dressing rooms are in the far right-hand corner of the club.” He points and I look, seeing Penny disappear through a door. Oh, Jesus.

  “I’m not a stripper.” I swallow and search out Theo, pointing to him. “I’m with him.”

  “You’re with Mr. Kane?” the waiter questions dubiously.

  My hand comes to my hair and starts to smooth it over as I nod. “Yes.”

  “Right.” He looks doubtful as he decides what to do with me, scanning the club for I don’t know what.

  “She’s with Theo.” A woman speaks up, pulling my attention to a nearby table. She smiles at me, sliding out of the booth with a few files in her hands. She’s mature, maybe sixty or so, and very well dressed, sophisticated in a black trouser suit, her blond hair short with choppy layers. Her blood-red lips frame perfect teeth as she holds her smile, approaching me.

  “Yes, madam.” The waiter falls into gracious acceptance as he backs away.

  “Get me my usual, Simon, please,” she says. “For you, Izzy?”

  My hand comes to my chest. I feel highly underdressed in the company of this strange, perfectly groomed woman. How does she know my name? “I’m fine, thank you.”

  “I insist.” She looks to the waiter. “Something light. Maybe white.”

  He nods and leaves us, and the woman holds a hand out to me. I look down at her perfectly manicured fingertips, the color of her polish matching her lips, and she gives me a knowing smile when I return my gaze to hers. She comes closer, gently taking my arm. “Come have a seat with me.” Leading me toward the booth, she gestures for me to sit, which I do, completely nonplussed. She’s still smiling as she takes a seat opposite and places her files down.

  “How do you know my name?” I ask, unable to stop myself from scanning the club, looking for Theo.

  She offers me her hand across the table, and I eye it suspiciously for a few moments before accepting. “I’m Judy.” She gives me a little wink. “Theo’s mother.”

  I don’t mean to pull my hand from hers, but it happens all the same, my surprise clear. “Oh…” I breathe, now seeing that the shade of her eyes is an exact replica of the deep spellbinding blue of Theo’s.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet the girl who has been the unexpected object of my boy’s affection.”

  I blush a million shades of red, burning up before her. He’s told his mother about me? I die a little on the inside, wishing I wasn’t currently looking such a state. “Forgive me for my appearance,” I say, embarrassed, as I pull at my tee. “I didn’t expect to find myself here.” I blindly indicate around the room. I really didn’t expect to find myself here. And the fact I’m still actually here and not hightailing it is a miracle.

  “You look delightfully adorable.” She brushes my concern aside, a fondness in her eyes that I’ve only ever encountered in one other person in my life. I drop my gaze to the table as my mother’s face creeps into my mind.

  “Thank you,” I murmur, aware of the sadness in my voice.

  “Theo tells me you’re a nurse.”

  I nod as Simon returns and places two wineglasses before us. “That’s right.” Looking up at her, I find the fondness remains as she takes me in, sipping on her red wine. “And now I know what Theo does.” I gaze around the club again, specifically to the cage where two men are now dragging an unconscious body toward the exit. I have to look away, feeling my stomach turn in circles.

  “I told him to tell you sooner rather than later.” She looks over to the cage, too. “Does it bother you?”

  “Yes,” I answer honestly. “I’m not a fan of mindless violence.” I dealt with it for too long. “Or…” I fade off and look to the stage, where two more women are flaunting their arses at the men seated around them. These two women are smiling, too. Enjoying themselves.

  “I understand,” Judy says, pulling my attention back her way. “Let me rephrase that. Does it bother you enough to say goodbye to my son?”

  Her question takes me by surprise, and I just stare at her, recalling how shell-shocked Theo looked when I spilled a fraction of my history to him. It’s no wonder. He must have wondered how on earth he would explain the Playground. Not to mention the cage of death over there. I look over, now seeing a man mopping up blood. Good Lord.

  “Izzy?”

  “I’m…a little thrown at the moment,” I admit. Thrown in so many ways. I’m thrown about this place, but I’m even more thrown that I’m so calm. I point toward the stage. “The girl who was just stripping—”

  “Penny?”

  “Yes.” I take my glass as I study Judy, wondering if the genuine beam of a moment ago is now painted on. It seems somehow forced. “It’s good to see her well.”

  “She’s working safely now. I guess that’s a good thing.”

  She’s working safely now. “Are all of the strippers ex-hookers?” I ask. Judy alluding to a safe working environment is cementing my early thoughts about Theo. He likes saving women. I just didn’t ever anticipate that in saving them, he was setting them to work in his strip club. His fucking strip club!

  Good God, I feel like I’ve fallen down a rabbit hole. Of all the men I could meet, a strip club owner? I frantically look around the bar again, hoping to catch sight of the man himself. If only to siphon off some calm from him. I need calm. My world is suddenly rocking again, and, oddly, the damn source of that rocking is the only thing that can stabilize it again. This is fucked up.

  “Dancers, Izzy,” Judy says, pulling my eyes back to her. “They’re dancers, darling. Not strippers.”

  “Sorry, dancers.” I smile apologetically. I wasn’t a dancer. I was a puppet. Forced to do things no human should be forced to do. My young, naive self was so lost. So…hopeless. “So they’re ex-hookers?”

  “Not all, but many.”

  I take a little wine as I wonder what Theo has told his mother about me, but I force myself to say something else before I give in to the urge and ask her outright. “He doesn’t like being touched.”

  Her look now is knowing, her forced smile drifting into more of a genuine, mild grin. “Except by you.”

  I feel a blush creep up on me. “I have to give him some warning.” I evade her eyes, feeling like she could be reading my mind, which is currently filled with images of me restrained in a Las Vegas hotel suite and Theo driving me nuts with his tongue, his touch, his…I shake my mind clear.

  “You don’t have to, Izzy,” she states matter-of-factly. “He sees you move before you’ve even thought to.” She smiles again, getting up from the table. “His words, not mine.”

  He sure has told his mum a lot. Has he told her that I used to be a stripper? Not a dancer, but a stripper? “You two are close?” I ask for the sake of it.

  “As close as can be without touching.” She laughs, and my eyes widen a little. His own mother? “Yes.” She reaches for my palm and holds it gently, almost
reassuringly. “Even his own mother isn’t so special that she can touch him without permission or invitation.”

  “Has he always been like that?”

  For the first time, her smile falters. “No, darling. He hasn’t.” She looks up from the table, her smile returning. “Speak of the devil and he shall appear.”

  I turn and find Theo standing behind me, taking in the scene before him with an extremely worried expression. It’s warranted, I guess. My confession, this place.

  “Mum.” He nods to Judy, giving her a questioning look.

  “I found her wandering around.” She waves a hand flippantly over her head.

  “So you thought you’d capture her and grill her?” There’s disdain in his voice, but Judy laughs it off and wanders over to her son, who towers above her petite frame. She stops a few feet in front of him, and Theo lifts his hand, keeping his eyes on me. I feel like an intruder, like he doesn’t want me here, and I shift on the spot nervously.

  Judy takes his hand and walks closer to him, letting him drop a kiss on her cheek. “I didn’t grill her. I simply introduced myself.”

  “I would have liked to do that another time, and somewhere else,” Theo replies, not sounding very happy at all, and I disintegrate under his imposing presence and displeased stare.

  “What was I going to do?” Judy sighs tiredly. “Leave her looking lost?” She breaks away from Theo and collects her files. “I’m done for the evening,” she says, slighted, but giving me a secret smile as she leaves us alone. “It was lovely to meet you, Izzy.”