by Erin West
Sleeping Rose
Rumple’s Curse: A Reverse Harem Retelling
Erin West
Nicole Kelley
Sleeping Rose
Erin West & Nicole Kelley
Copyright © 2018 Erin West & Nicole Kelley
All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.
Cover designed by Eden Elements Publishing
Editing by Jamie Holmes
Proofreading by Kendra Gaither
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Acknowledgments
About Erin West
About Nicole Kelley
To our husbands and children, for putting up with the craziness that is our schedule, from last minute get-togethers, plotting, and editing, to the late night phone calls.
For every girl who needs a hero but learns that she can save herself.
Chapter One
Thumping music from the club reverberates through the brick walls. The flickering light reflects off Jo’s bald head as he smiles and opens the back door. “Whatcha’ doing here? I thought you were off.”
“Just dropping in.” I step inside the dim, dingy hallway leading to the dressing rooms. I use that term loosely. It’s just a large room where all the girls change in between shows and their time on the bars.
Tip is too cheap to section off rooms for privacy. We show the goods to everyone in the lounge, so what’s the difference backstage. He’s an asshole, but he takes care of his own. That’s one reason I started stripping at eighteen and stuck around as long as I have. The money’s nothing to sneeze at.
At my designated table, I place my bag on the floor and take a seat, soaking up my surroundings. This building has been like a second home to me.
The once-white walls are tinged yellow from years of nicotine-laced smoke that never really clears. The mismatched tables, chairs, and mirrors are pushed together for all of us girls to use in close quarters. Provocative outfits hang on clothes rods and are scattered anywhere there’s a place to put them.
I take a deep breath, inhaling all the different fragrances the girls wear, a mixture of floral, citrus, and vanilla. The smoke and alcohol from the lounge filter through the other smells, scents I’ve been around for eight years.
Tip hired me at the ripe age of sixteen. No questions asked or second thoughts about a younger girl working in an establishment such as this. I was desperate for a job, and he took a chance on me.
Sure, it’s not the best place to be at twenty-four, but it’s all I’ve known. Even though Tip comes off as a hard-ass, he doesn’t expect much in return. Except for us to work our asses off. He’s been like a father figure to me, and I feel like I owe him for helping me when he didn’t have to.
Mia walks in and removes her wig, carrying the bra that goes with her outfit and a stack of bills.
Looks like she had a good act.
She grabs a new outfit and puts her arms through the straps.
“Hey, Mia. Busy out there tonight?” I turn toward the mirror and begin applying my stage make-up.
“Girl, what are you doing here? It’s your night off.” Her wardrobe change complete, she faces me and crosses her arms over her ample bosom, jutting her hip out.
“Havana” by Camila comes on in the club. I move my hips on my seat as I apply the finishing touches to my face. “I know, but I could really use the money.”
“Uh huh. I bet you have more money than any of us. When are you getting out of this hell-hole?”
“Mia, shut ya mouth.” A male voice that I have heard almost every day for the last eight years echoes from the hallway, leading to the only closed-off room in the back. “Don’t be tryin’ to run off my other girls.” Tip steps out into the dressing area, smacking Mia on the ass as he walks in my direction.
She throws her hands up in surrender. “I ain’t running her off. She’s going to make something of herself, better than anything she can do here.”
He crosses his arms. “Watch it before I fire yo’ ass.”
“Pfft. You ain’t going to fire me. I’m one of your best girls.”
He ignores her.
She winks at me before disappearing from the room.
He turns his attention to me. “What’re ya doin’ here? I told ya to take the night off.”
Sighing, I set my make-up brush down on the counter. “Come on. I need to work.”
“No, ya don’t.” He grabs my hand and pulls me up. “Now, get out of here. I don’t want to see ya until tomorrow for ya shift.”
“Seriously, you’re kicking me out?” Who the hell does he think he is?
“Yeah, I’m sure ya have something better to be doin’.” He shakes his head. “Now get, before the others see ya. Then ya’ll never get out of here.”
I stand and lift my chin. “Fine, but just so you know, I’m pissed.”
He chuckles and crosses his arms over a broad chest covered by a tight black shirt. “I think I can handle that. See ya tomorrow.”
I grab my purse and storm over to the door, pulling the door open with more force than necessary. “Fuck off, Tip. Maybe I won’t show up at all.”
Opening the back door, his laughter follows me outside, not cutting off until the door closes.
Jo’s smiling face greets me as I dig my keys out of my purse.
I cut my eyes to him. “Shut up, nobody asked you.”
His chuckle echoes around the alleyway.
The sensation of being watched prickles my awareness. I keep my head down and insert the key in the lock of my old, white Nissan Maxima. Opening the door, I hop in and hit the button to lock the doors. The interior lights turn off when I turn the ignition on, and my eyes make a quick sweep of the alley but don’t see anyone. That doesn’t mean someone isn’t there. It’s a dark alleyway on the bad side of Atlanta, Georgia.
Shaking my hands out, I put the car into gear to head back home. I can’t believe Tip kicked me out tonight. He’s never done that before.
Looks like I’ll be spending the night in by myself with my old pals Netflix and Dragon’s Milk Ale.
I’m a twenty-four-year-old who’s staying home on a Friday night. Why can’t partying be my scene? I should be out there with other people my age, living it up, but it doesn’t end well when I do.
My usual parking spot at the apartment building is empty. I park and then sprint upstairs while holding on to the black, flaking handrail. The apartment isn’t much to look at. The red brick is faded, and all the windows are s
aggy with bars on the outside. There’s not even an elevator. As I reach the fifth floor, it still feels as though someone is watching me.
Once inside, I secure the locks and pace around the living area before plopping down with a huff. What can I do? My head falls back on the black, cloth futon, and I stare at the ceiling. My leg bounces up and down until the people below me bang on the walls.
I need to get a life outside of work. All my friends are strippers, but it’s time for that to change. I head into the bathroom, wash off the make-up from the club, and apply a subtler look. What was I thinking when I decided to go out? My everyday clothing selection is pitiful, much less my going-out clothes. Should I?
Yes, I’m going. I just need to shop for more non-work-related clothes on my next day off. Maybe that will help me stick with my new plan to put myself out there more.
The woman staring back at me from the mirror in tight jeans, a crop top, and heels looks confident and alluring. A smile lights up my face. This will do just fine.
As soon as I step outside, the eerie sensation returns. I almost turn around, but I square my shoulders and continue walking instead. What do I have to be scared of? I have taken care of myself since I was sixteen. Whether there’s a creeper out here or not, it’s not going to keep me holed up in my apartment like a scared little girl. I tighten my grip on my keys and search my surroundings for anything suspicious. In the alleyway between my building and the next, I meet glowing amber eyes in the dark.
What the hell is that?
Chapter Two
When my eyes open, I find that the glowing eyes have disappeared. Great, let’s add paranoia to my ever-growing list of issues.
I get in my Maxima and head off to my usual liquor store since the gas station doesn’t carry my favorite beer. People give me a hard time about liking Dragon’s Milk Ale, but my foster dad ruined the normal grocery store beers. He and his shithead friends would come home plastered from drinking their Coors and Bud Lights and then mess with an underage girl. The one who got too confident and handsy learned his lesson. I killed him with my own two hands out of self-preservation. That’s why, as soon as I turned eighteen, I moved into my shithole apartment. At least, it’s something to call my own.
Driving by the park that is surrounded by a wooded area, my car begins to overheat. Are you fucking serious? If Tip would have just let me work tonight, I wouldn’t be in this mess.
I coast over to the side of the road and turn the car off. Getting out, I pop open the hood, steam drenching me as soon as it’s lifted. Damn it. I need some water to cool off the engine.
I head to the trunk and open it, but there’s no water anywhere. I want to kick myself. Last week, it overheated heading to work, and I used the last bottle I had stashed in there. I swear, life just keeps throwing me curve balls. Sometimes, I think I’m cursed.
A car drives by with several men in it, catcalling at me as they pull over.
See, this is why I went home before coming out. I didn’t want this kind of attention.
A tall, thick man with dingy brown hair gets out of their car. He’s oily and must have been drinking, because he stumbles his way over. “Hey, baby. Looks like you have some car problems.” He looks down at his crotch. “Do you need a ride?”
Placing my hands on my hips, my nose snarls in disgust. “I definitely don’t need any type of ride with you.” I turn to head back to the front of the car when he grabs my hand.
He pulls me into his chest, the stench of liquor on his breath. “That’s not how a lady is supposed to act. I’m being a gentleman and trying to help you out. You should be grateful.”
This is why no man can ever be trusted. They see my blonde hair and blue eyes and think that I’m a Barbie doll, but I can kick every one of their asses. “If I were you, I’d let me go.”
He laughs and steps toward me. “What is your hot ass going to do?”
Dropping to the ground, I throw him over my body, using his own momentum to pull his weight over my shoulder.
He lands on his back with a thud, gasping for air.
All his buddies in the car crack up laughing.
He scrambles up and glares at me. “Who the hell do you think you are, bitch?”
I take a step toward him, ready for a fight. The burning within my body increases and it craves the adrenaline. “I’m someone who can kick your pathetic ass.”
His buddy leans out of the driver’s side door, his long, greasy hair pulled back into a ponytail. “Did you just get your ass handed to you by a woman?”
Dickhead’s face turns red, his nostrils flaring. “I should just leave you here alone, but I’ll make this one exception for you.”
“Really?” I roll my eyes. “That’s the best thing I’ve heard all day.”
Snarling, he rushes toward me.
A loud, howling noise penetrates my eardrums. I shake my head, snapping out of it. If I lose focus, he could get the upper hand. He’s at least five inches taller than me and a hundred and fifty pounds heavier, and that’s being generous.
When he reaches me, I lean to the side and kick out, knocking him the entire way to his car.
He slams into it, his ass leaving a dent.
I take a deep breath, making sure my voice is level. “Leave me the hell alone or I’ll really kick your sorry ass.”
Dickhead limps into his car and burns rubber as he leaves.
Of course, my car hasn’t cooled off at all. What the fuck am I going to do? I can’t stay here. I don’t want another altercation.
After locking the door, I head toward the park. Less people will be there than on the main road this late at night. Also, it’s nice to get out in nature from time to time. It seems like I breathe more pollution than actual oxygen most days.
As make my way through the park entrance, my skin crawls. I just put a drunken misogynist pig in his place, and now I’m getting paranoid while alone in the park. Go figure.
Past some park benches that have seen better days, I find a path into a wooded area. As I turn around, those glowing amber eyes reappear in the woods that connect to the path. Without a second thought, I take off toward them.
Each time I feel as though I’m being watched, those eyes appear. It must mean something.
I only walk fifteen feet before howling erupts, causing me to freeze in place. Where the fuck is that sound coming from? I spin around, now facing the direction I came from. Shit, I’ve wandered farther than I realized. There’s no telling what’s out here with me.
Retracing my steps, I head back toward the park. Those eyes appear again, and I stop dead in my tracks, transfixed by the sight.
A jet-black wolf steps out onto the path, watching me from a few paces away.
I should be freaked out, but I’m not at all. “Hey, boy. Have you been following me around?”
He tilts his head then lowers it onto his front paws.
An aggressive wolf wouldn’t do that, right? I stay where I am, despite my irrational desire to get closer. I mean, come on, some self-preservation has to come to the forefront. I can’t give it all up because of an intriguing wolf.
Acting on pure instinct, I sit down on the ground, lower my eyes, and keep my hands on my knees.
He watches me and, after a few seconds of hesitation, moves toward me.
I stay still, not wanting to spook him. He’s gorgeous, with full, shaggy, black hair and haunting eyes. All I want to do is reach out and pet him, but I’m not sure it’s the best idea. “You’re gorgeous. I never thought I’d see a wolf this close.”
He whines and moves closer, stopping an arm’s length away.
Raising my arm in slow motion, I reach out to touch him. He doesn’t make a move to put distance between us as my hand touches his coarse, thick fur.
There’s a buzzing underneath my skin where I touch him. What the hell is this? I can’t pull my hand away from him.
Our eyes connect, intelligence shining brightly from his, sparking my curiosity more.
&n
bsp; The wolf steps closer to me, like he’s under the same spell.
A vibration from my back pocket drags me out of whatever is going on. Shit, I forgot I had my phone on vibrate. I grab it and look at the number on the caller ID.
It’s Mia. I bet she’s making sure I’m not upset that she ran me out of the club tonight. For some reason, she likes me and keeps talking about this bright future I don’t fucking have, but whatever.
Not wanting to talk tonight, I swipe the red button on the screen and realize it’s really late. She must have just gotten off.
I stand up and stare at the wolf with regret. “It’s time for me to go. If you want to see me again, just show up like you did tonight in the alley. I’ll meet you back here.”
My fingers cling to his fur, not wanting to let him go. What if I never see him again? I give him one last pat before making myself walk away. It’s never been this difficult to walk away from someone, much less an animal.
My eyes are drawn back to the spot where we separated, but he’s already gone. Pain pierces my chest. Why am I upset over this wolf leaving?
Chapter Three
The further I get from him, the more my body protests to turn around, run back to him, and dig my fingers into his fur. My phone vibrates again, so I pull it out and see Mia’s name flashing on the screen. Swiping my finger, I ignore the call. I need time to analyze what happened tonight without her prying.
I step out of the tree-lined path along the main road. My car is about a hundred yards up ahead. This time, the sensation of being watched doesn’t bother me, but our connection tempts me to go back.
