Chapter Thirty-three - Deacon

Purity Atwood stared at the back door of Cheaters, her hands shaking. She didn’t want to go inside, didn’t want to get up on that stage one more time for a bunch of singles she’d have to give over to Damien Croft. Again. Like she did for the last few months, and of which she was sick of doing. She took a deep breath, her chest a twisted mess of anxiety. She couldn’t keep doing this but had yet to figure out how to escape.

“Staring at the door won’t get you inside,” she heard the woman say.

Turning, Purity watched as Sasha Winters crossed the parking lot to where Purity stood, her five-inch heels clacking on the asphalt as the wind tugged at her skirt which barely covered her pale ass as it was. “I hoped if I stood here long enough, the whole place would just disappear.”