He's the monster in the shadows. She's the angel in the spotlight.
As the Head of Security for the House of Midnight Pleasures, I keep all our performers safe from the wealthy elite who attend our masked private parties.
Tabitha Green is the only performer I really care about.
Night after night, I’m transfixed by her sensual solo act, staring at her so hard that I can almost start to believe she stares back.
It’s idiotic.
Nobody looks at me when they don’t have to. Not since I got these scars on a rescue mission in Syria.
Tabitha can’t even talk to me without turning bright red and looking away. So on event nights, behind the safety of my mask, I let myself memorize every inch of her.
And I keep my distance.
Then her car breaks down during the worst storm of the year. With shelter-in-place orders in effect, I have no choice but to take her home with me.
I take the couch and try like hell not to think about her lying in my bed without me… until she wakes up screaming in the middle of the night.
And she needs comfort.
God help me.
This might be the thing that finally kills me.
