She dances alone.

Surrounded by a press of sweating bodies, she undulates with her eyes shut to the world, and her hands are raised in freedom. A clinging halter top displays the coffin nail tattoo under her thick mahogany hair.

No one approaches her.

No one touches her.

She is Whitlock's girl, that's all, and yet it's everything.

My eyes follow her night after night. Seeking out her secrets, knowing she's in too deep.

I never approach her.

I never touch her.

But I want to.

~o0o~

The place is full, and I'm thankful for busy hands that keep me focused. I watch her hips sway as my eyes follow her hands down her body, and I look away. Dreaming of things you can't have will get you killed in a place like this. You do the job. Just do the job.

I swing to my next customer and come face to face with Tyler Crowley, her bodyguard.

"She'll have an ankle twister."

I nod, "Rum, cherry brandy, lime juice—we can make that happen." I make short work of mixing the vile drink and add a couple of cherries on top before sliding it toward him.

"Does it usually have the cherries?"

I lie to his face, "Every time."

Crowley purses his lips but delivers the drink to her table before returning to the shadows.

My damp bar towel smooths over the hardwood as the music shifts, and she makes her way to the booth along the wall. I watch as she wipes her face and neck with a bar towel, tucking it down between her breasts. When she slides into her booth, I'm lost in her spell.

As she sips her drink, she shifts her eyes to mine and lifts the cocktail pick of cherries to her lips. She slides a cherry into her mouth with a delicate bite, closing her eyes as she savors the liquor-infused fruit. I'm entranced, and she knows.

Her sultry brown eyes open and settle on me with a smile before panic washes across her face as the Coffin Nails' MC president walks through the door. The sea of people parts as he walks past his girl to Tyler. Without looking, he holds out his hand and waits as she hurries to place hers within his.

Innocents in the hands of death—It's an old, old story.

I try and fail to ignore what has been on repeat since I started working here—an enraged Whitlock with his girl pinned against a wall in the hall. His rings flash with reflective light as his hand seeks a better grip on her slender neck. She struggles in vain to find purchase on her tiptoes as her eyes bulge.

This time is different. There is murder in the man's eyes, and without thinking, my feet carry me down the hallway.

I'm fisting my hand when I am grabbed from behind and dragged out a side door. Tyler throws me against a wall and pulls my arm behind my back.

"Get the fuck off me!"

Tyler loosens his grip without releasing me. "You got a death wish, Cullen. Whitlock is going to do what he does with that girl, and you will only boost his enjoyment by dying in front of her."

I struggle, and he smacks my head. "Listen. To. Me. I've seen how you watch her, how you want her. What makes you different than any other man, including me?"

I stop struggling. "Truth, I wouldn't hurt her. She's so little and—alone."

"You got a shining armor complex. She'll get you killed." He turns me to face him. "What is Whitlock's is Whitlock's to do as he pleases."

"Including her?"

Tyler lets go and steps back. "Especially her."

I shake my head, but the fight is gone.

Tyler lifts black eyes to me. "He knows there's a traitor in the ranks, and the feds are closing in. He knows."

I run my hands through my hair. Tyler straightens my collar and whispers, "Tomorrow, she's going to have a twisted ankle. You'll be here."

I brush his arm away. "Anyone can make that drink."

His voice deepens, "No, tomorrow she's going to have a twisted ankle. You'll be here."

We lock eyes, and I nod, "I'm working tomorrow."

Tyler steps back and takes a deep breath, "Good man. Your shift is over. Leave through the ally."

I grab his forearm, "She's going to be all right?"

"No, she's not," he says and walks back through the door.

~o0o~

From my room's window, I can see the ally I was just in. I watch Whitlock shove his girl into an armored SUV and drive away. He'll take her back to his penthouse, and tomorrow she'll wear sunglasses and sit at her booth all night.

We've played this on repeat.

Stripped to my boxers, I sit with my mind and heart racing. So many questions play on repeat.

Does she have the courage to see this through? Do these feelings flow both ways?

I swallow thickly and hit the light as I lay back on my bed.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow she'll have a sprained ankle, and I'll be there.

Tomorrow.

~o0o~

I get to the bar early, and while I set up, a high-tension fog permeates the bar. Whitlock and his men conference in the back room, she hasn't come in yet, and my gut tightens as thoughts whirl. I remind myself to keep my head down and focus on the job.

In time the music pumps up, and the lights go down. As the rooms begin to fill, I see Tyler come through the side door and escort her to the booth along the wall. She doesn't look for me, and I wonder if she saw me last night when she needed saving—again.

I decide not to look at her either. The idea of her hating me or getting hurt by me distracts me, and I can't have that tonight—not tonight.

I fill a pitcher for a table and turn to see Tyler at the end of the bar. I wipe my way down to him. "What can I get you?"

Tyler looks in the mirror behind me, watching her—always watching her. "Get her a Gin Fizz, and I'll have a club soda."

I went to work making the two drinks. Whitlock and four men walk out of the back and survey the room. Whitlock's eyes land on Tyler's back, and I slip him the drinks as Whitlock makes his way over to her booth. He sits close beside her and pinches her jaw, bringing her face close to his. From across the room, I can feel the pain and see the bruises forming beneath his fingers.

Before Tyler turns from the bar, "Tonight" slips from his lips and absorbs into the noise of the room.

Tyler takes it to her table, where Whitlock stands and gets in Tyler's face, who only nods. Whitlock leaves through the front doors flanked by his men, and the room breaths in relief.

I look to her table where she sits, sipping her drink, small, tired but not broken. I smile, and she lowers her glasses and smiles back. Her left eye is swollen and blue, but her smile is genuine, and I'm grateful.

The night wears on, and I stay busy. When I turn to see Tyler at the end of the bar, I make my way to him. "What can I get you?"

He leans his elbows on the bar and says, "She wants to dance with you."

What?" I try to gauge him. "Too dangerous."

"She wants to dance with you. One dance, but be careful. In those heels, she might sprain her ankle."

I study him and finally nod. If she's going to dance with anyone, it's going to be me.

"Mike, I'm taking my break," I yell over my shoulder as I remove my apron and I lift the flip-top counter.

I hold her eyes as I make my way toward her, and she sits straighter as I approach. Before her, I hold out my hand. "May I have this dance?"

She smiles stiffly, and her eyes bounce around the room as she takes my hand. I lead us onto the dance floor and finally wrap my arms around her tiny waist. As I sway us to the music and say, "My name is Edward."

Her eyes dart back to me, and she smiles as she says, "Bella."

"Bella." I grin and shift my hand around hers. Her name is Bella.

"Bella, keep your eyes on me. Tyler is watching over you, and he's on the job."

"He can't stop—" she drops her head to my chest.

"Bella, we have only this dance, so I'm going say what I've wanted to say for so long, and I need your honest answers. Can you do that?"

She looks into my eyes. Her sad fathomless eyes bore into me, and she nods.

I pull her close to me and whisper in her ear, "If I had time, I would go slow, Bella, as you deserve. But I've watched you from across the room for months now, and I see you. I know you like hard liquor when you dance, and I know you go light when the night before was rough. I know you're brave, and you've got guts.

"Bella, I dream about you—free in the sunshine with the wind in your hair. I dream of being by your side and keeping you safe and happy. So what I need to know, Beautiful Bella is if you ever think of me."

A tear gently trails down her cheek as she says, "I'm afraid to dream. But when I hurt in the middle of the night. I think of your smile, and maybe that you smile only for me. But then the pain breaks through, and I know I'm too used up to be with someone as beautiful as you—Edward."

I brush her hair back from her bruised face and gently press my lips to her cheek, "I'll dream for both of us, baby—until it's safe for you to dream again."

She whispers, "Please," even though her lips tremble.

As the song fades, I turn her toward the darkened hallway where Taylor stands. "Baby, I think you've sprained your ankle."

Her eyes widen, and I nod. She hesitates for just a second before collapsing and grabbing her left ankle. I catch her, and Tyler is by our side.

As we lead her toward the back, Tyler shouts, "We'll get you to the office where you can ice your ankle."

From the hallway, we can see Whitlock push through the front. His men move with speed through the crowd, but we bust through the side door and slam into five plain-clothed detectives pouring between us and the oncoming danger.

Tyler pats me on the back and says, "Go, we got this. Get her to the safe house, and we'll meet you there."

Bella pulls from my arms and hugs Tyler, "Thank you, Officer Crowley."

Tyler smiles warmly at her and clears his throat. "Detective Cullen will take good care of you, and he'll stay with you until you can get into the witness protection program. Now go."

I shield her as we run down the alley. A shot ricochets off the ally wall as I slide in behind the wheel and pull away with Bella by my side.

As we make it to the outskirts of the city, she reaches for my hand, and I bring her hand to my lips. "Your safe now, Bella, and I'm going to keep you safe."

"You won't leave me?"

I glace at round terrified eyes. "No, I'll leave the force before I leave you. We're going to figure this out together."

I feel the tension leave her as she scoots closer and holds our hands against her chest. "Together, I like that."