Chapter 6: Take My Hand

*BONNIE’S POV*

Both Bonnie and Stella stood in the entryway of the main floor. Much like the outside, the interior was dark and alluring. Shades of gray, purple, and violet covered the furniture and the walls.

A long, handcrafted, bar sat all along the back wall with a large number of barstools. Small couches and tables were sectioned off for privacy. But what took Bonnie back the most was the stage that stood in the center of the room.

“Holy sh*t,” Stella whispered loudly.

“It’s a nightclub,” she stated.

Bonnie was baffled. This was certainly the last place she’d think to find herself on a Tuesday afternoon. She quickly glanced down at the small card and read over the address, trying to convince herself that she had mistyped it into the GPS before. But something told her in the back of her mind that she was, indeed, in the right place.

“This is crazy,” her friend commented.

“No,” Bonnie hissed under her breath. She adjusted her handbag on her shoulder and shook her head. “This was a mistake.”

Bonnie turned to leave when a gravelly toned voice called out from across the room. She stopped in her tracks and turned back to find an older woman dressed in edgy leather attire. Her dark hair was cut short and the tips were colored a different shade to add dimension.

“Bonnie Renolds,” the woman greeted her. “It’s nice to finally meet you. I’m Trixie.”

Feeling a slight pinkish hue touch her cheeks, Bonnie never knew how to properly handle herself when it came to the public noticing her.

“Yes. Um, hi,” she started awkwardly. “You’re probably wondering what we’re doing here. Well, I know this might be a bit strange, but I…”

Thankfully, Stella stepped in to spare her from any further embarrassment.

“Hi, I’m Stella,” she said as her eyes twinkled with interest. She swiftly went on to explain their unlikely presence after the hellish week Bonnie had endured having been sick. “We’re here because we’re essentially looking for answers.”

Bonnie sheepishly held up the note that was stuck in the bouquet and showed Trixie the message. Her dark blue eyes scanned the note, resulting in a devious smirk that had both Bonnie and Stella wavering.

“Yes,” Trixie chuckled in amusement. “My boss had suggested sending you flowers, and I was more than happy to oblige.”

Bonnie’s heart skipped in her chest. Her brows drew together in bewilderment. “Y-Your boss? He was the one who brought me to the medi-center on campus?”

Trixie merely nodded her head as though this was a normal occurrence that happened around this place. Both college students shared a look of disbelief.

“Why would a club owner take Bonnie to the doctors when they don’t even know each other?” Stella asked pointedly.

“Perhaps you can ask him this yourself,” she hinted to Bonnie playfully.

That same mischievous smile returned to Trixie’s face. Although she suppressed her laugh this time around, she motioned for them to follow her into the lounge area. She told them both to sit down and wait. The two watched the older woman disappear behind one of the curtains hanging on the wall, not having any idea that such a door was hiding back there.

Just another reason why this place made Bonnie feel so uneasy. Nothing was what it appeared to be. That same hazardous sensation she had felt outside loomed over her the longer she sat there waiting. Bonnie didn’t know if it was the club itself that made her feel this way, or if it was the inevitable consequence of her even being there in the first place.

“‘Models who work for Viona Xavia are not seen in places like these’,” her agent once said to her sternly.

It was almost humorous the amount of times Bonnie’s agent thought that she needed to hear this little speech, considering that the young woman held practically zero interest in clubbing. But it didn’t seem to matter either way. She, much like every other model she worked with, was expected to uphold a very distinctive image when out in public.

Viona Xavia Modeling Agency was home to nothing but beautiful, angelic men and women who’s true responsibility lay in how they presented themselves outside of work. Not only were they ordered to pose like devine saints, but they were expected to act like them as well at all times.

Which meant places like The Mad House were a huge ‘no-no’ according to her contract. Places like this were believed to tarnish one’s reputation if spotted by the wrong people. Having finally been given the privilege to attend college, Bonnie was not willing to push the limits of what little freedom she had any further.

She felt herself sink into the black leather couch as her fingers curled anxiously into her palms. If by some impossible way her manager found out about her little excursion today, she could very well kiss her life on campus goodbye.

Her friend turned to her, as if she sensed the tension coursing through her. Stella rested a supportive hand on Bonnie’s shoulder.

“Hey, you okay, Bon?” she asked.

Bonnie nibbled on her bottom lip and kept her gaze fixated on the dark carpeting on the floor. She curved her shoulders inward and tried to keep her breathing as even as possible. Unknowingly, the girl shook her head in defeat.

“I shouldn’t be here, Stella,” she told her friend. “What do I do if Marcy finds out that I came here?”

Stella sneered in distaste at hearing the name of Bonnie’s manager slip off the tip of her tongue. Based on what she’d been told, Marcy Wallace was a walking nightmare to deal with on a regular basis. Nothing but snarky, narcissism compacted into five feet of pure stress and aggravation. Yup, that was Marcy.

Had she the opportunity, Stella would love to give the woman a piece of her mind. Preferably through the use of a cheap lighter that could scorch Bonnie’s contract with the agency. What was the point of modeling for international fashion designers when she was as trapped as an owned bird within an iron cage?

“Look, we’re simply here for answers,” Stella started to explain. “We’re not here for fun. If Marcy heckles you about this, just tell her that you were for me as moral support.”

A soft smile touched the corner of Bonnie’s mouth. “Thanks. But you know I’m a terrible liar,” she giggled.

The two shared a laugh and thanks to the brief distraction, Bonnie was not fixed on her anxiety over her agent. As they continued to wait for Trixie to return, they allowed their eyes to wander around the place. It had Bonnie wondering what it must feel like to let yourself really let loose. Even if it was just for one night.

What did it feel like to get dressed up and dance the night away on that raised platform in the center of the room? Or better yet, what was it like for the people who were performing on that stage?

“What do you think he’s like?” Bonnie questioned carelessly.

Stella let out a tiny squeak. Her voice sounded strained and lacking confidence, unlike before. “Why don’t you find out for yourself?”

Bonnie’s eyes widened as she slowly turned her head back in the direction from which Trixie had left. Standing no more than a couple feet away, was the most breathtakingly handsome man she had ever laid eyes on.

Somehow this man looked exactly how the owner of a club like this should have looked. Seductive and dangerous. His features were dark and alluring, sending sparks of heat straight to Bonnie’s core. Her lungs started to burn as the air became trapped in her chest.

His broad shoulders and monstrous frame made her wonder if he had ever played sports growing up. Football players would trade their souls for muscles like his.

He was like nothing she had ever seen. The men she had modeled with from time to time were nothing compared to how this man looked. His chiseled face had to have been crafted from marble, yet his mouth looked as soft as the pillow she slept with.

‘Get it together, Bon,’ she said to herself. “He’s gonna think there’s something majorly wrong with you if you keep staring at him like that.’

Her gray eyes traced every basic detail of his person until she forced herself to look away. For a prolonged minute, no one said a word until Trixie had cleared her throat and broke the tension.

“Boss, may I introduce you to Ms. Bonnie Renolds,” she said kindly. “And Ms. Renolds, may I introduce you to Marcus Wolfgang.”

Bonnie’s heart jumped into her throat. To her dismay, she watched a line appear between his furrowed brows. The man appeared as though he had fallen into a deep pit of contemplation. It left her feeling flustered and wanting to leave all the more sooner.

She parted her lips as if to speak but Marcus was quicker. “Follow me, Ms. Renolds,” he told her firmly.

***

*MARCUS’ POV*

‘F*ck me...She’s as beautiful as the day I found her,’ Marcus thought miserably.

Wolfgang nearly busted out laughing as he stood there gawking at the young woman who haunted his thoughts and terrorized his past few nights. How could he possibly succeed in forgetting about her?

What a foolish thought.

Bonnie was merely sitting there, not saying a word, and Marcus was shaken to his very core. All those pictures he had spent countless, mindless hours staring at did not do her justice, by any means. Yes, she was stunning in each one she posed for. But seeing her, physically, in front of him...the girl was unearthly.

It made him want to reach out and touch her to see if she was truly real. He was, at the very least, glad to see that her illness had all but left her. A bit more color had returned to her cheeks and the circles under her eyes had vanished.

By the astonished look that crossed her face, Marcus was at least pleased to see she was shocked as he was. He noticed how her eyes had scoured down his body, mentally picking him apart like some seventh-grade science experiment.

He didn’t mind. Hell, he was prepared to stand in that exact spot for hours if it meant having her complete undivided attention. A strange sensation raced down the man’s spine, causing him to feel weak in the back of his knees. Christ, he needed to grab ahold of himself.

The second he summoned her to follow him, he was pleased that she had risen from her seat without a second’s hesitation. He pulled back the curtain and escorted her through the darkened doorway that led to a long narrow hall.

Marcus instantly sensed the tension building around the girl and did something that he’d never done before. He grabbed her shaking hand and curled his long fingers around it. He felt the jolt of her surprise when her hand tensed in his grasp.

He wasn’t entirely certain what she was feeling; however, he felt right down smug. And thanks to the dim lighting above their heads, Bonnie wasn’t able to make out the prideful smile that curved Wolfgang’s lips.

He thought darkly to himself, ‘Is this what Hades felt like when he dragged Persephone down to the Underworld?’