**Chapter Eight** As I walk down the corridor, Jericho grips my hand firmly, pulling me along with purpose. Each step reverberates through me, the monstrous weight of emotions churning within—as if I’m a marionette suspended in a daze. My heart pounds loudly, a chaotic drumbeat echoing in my ears. The rhythm clashes with the sharp click of my heels against the floor and the deliberate thud of his shoes. His scent envelops me, a rugged blend of musk and forest air intertwined with an expensive cologne that sends tremors through my very being. It’s a scent locked in my memory, reminding me of a past I desperately wish to escape. I want to scream; I need to say something, but the truth and the facade that everything is fine wage war inside my mind. Jericho looks concerned, fully aware that I’m anything but okay. My embarrassment compounds with each step we take. This moment feels infinitely worse than the time he saved me from high school bullies. Back then, the stakes were low, but now it’s a different game altogether—a staggering sixty thousand dollars to rescue me from a situation I don’t want to admit I’m in. The irony that he is the same person who rescued me back then and now feels like a slap in the face. With each passing second, my pride crumbles further; I feel the weight of humiliation pressing down on me like a lead blanket. The knots of anxiety in my stomach have grown to an unbearable size, choking me as we enter the dressing room. Once the door shuts, I’m struck by the realization of where we are. “Put your clothes on. You’re going home now.” His voice rings with authority, his words oddly fitting in this strange space, snapping me back to awareness. I jerk my hand free from his grasp, halting just in front of my locker. I turn to face him, the sharpness of his features mirroring the seriousness of the moment. “Why are you here?” I cry out, my voice trembling with frustration and embarrassment. “Why the hell did you bid on me?” His brows knit together in confusion, his gaze piercing through me as if I’ve lost my mind. “Are you kidding me? What kind of question is that?” “Just answer me! Why did you come here, Jericho?” He meets my gaze, unflinching. “I’m saving your ass. Instead of throwing a fit, you should be grateful you didn’t end up with some old geezer ready to stash you in a playboy mansion.” I’m too wound up to acknowledge his reference to that sleazy bidder. “Grateful? I don’t want to be grateful. You promised to leave me alone.” “Guess what? I lied. And let’s be clear: this is not just about taking care of a few bills.” He gestures broadly at the room, “What kind of trouble are you in, River? You must be tangled in something serious.” “I’m not in any trouble,” I snap, though I know it’s a half-truth. The trouble I’m in is the aftermath, and I refuse to divulge that secret. His smirk is incredulous, anger flashing in his eyes. “That’s an outright lie.” My temper flares again, defiance bubbling to the surface. “I don’t have to explain myself to you! You can’t just waltz back into my life making demands. I’m not some lackey or a fan begging for your attention. I didn’t want your help!” “Well, too damn bad, because you got it,” he rebuffs, his posture tense and brimming with anger, as if my defiance only fuels his resolve. “Don’t you realize what you just did? It’s an auction! Jericho, you just bought me!” The weight of his action crashes over me, suffocating me under the realization that the walls I’ve built around my heart might now come crumbling down. “Yes, that’s how an auction works. And now, it seems we’re stuck together for the next two days.” The wild glimmer in his eyes sends a shiver down my spine, igniting something deep within me. “This is no laughing matter. You shouldn’t have come here.” “And yet, here I am, Mermaid,” he replies with a wicked grin that stirs a tempest of emotions within me. “Don’t you dare call me that! I don’t have to tolerate—” My protest is cut short when he suddenly cups my face in his hands, pulling me into a kiss that steals the very breath from my lungs. It happens so fast that I barely comprehend it until it’s too late. His lips crash against mine, overwhelming my senses and leaving me dizzy. Jericho pulls me closer, and the kiss wraps around my heart like a flame, igniting a long-buried desire I thought I had extinguished. My knees threaten to buckle beneath me as the heat spreads through my veins, tracing memories of that last kiss—so long ago, yet as vivid as the moment it happened. When he finally withdraws, the spell is broken, and I’m left breathless, eyes wide as shock mirrors in his gaze. But within those depths, I detect something dark and dangerous—malice intertwined with an insatiable hunger, like a predator eyeing its prey. “I’ll send you a message with my instructions tomorrow morning. See you then,” he states coolly, the promise ringing clear. With that, he turns and strides away, leaving me in stunned silence, the world closing in around me. An electric numbness spreads through me, solidifying my disbelief as I stare at the door after he disappears. Jericho, my ex, just kissed me. He paid sixty thousand dollars at an auction, and then he kissed me like I was everything he ever wanted. If I tried, I couldn’t conjure up a narrative that wild. Earlier, I felt lost in hell; now, I’m adrift in an episode of the Twilight Zone, where reality blurs into an unsettling dream. * * * By the time I arrive home, the funds of sixty thousand dollars have already been deposited into my account. He must have paid the club their cut—ensuring I receive the full amount. The shock still clings to me, morphing my sense of normalcy and rendering me numb for hours. After checking on Gina and confirming she’s peacefully asleep, I retreat to my room, attempting to settle down for the night. But sleep remains a distant fantasy as the tumultuous events swirl through my mind, each scene replaying with relentless intensity. Dawn breaks through my window, soft bird calls marking the start of a new day while I’m still wide awake, trapped in the chaos of last night’s revelations. This morning feels surreal; I didn’t sleep a wink, yet fatigue doesn’t weigh on me. The shock blankets my senses. I entered that auction hoping for a mere twenty thousand but returned with sixty, thanks to Jericho—the very last person I wished would come into my life again. The reality of owing him looms over me. I don’t technically owe him any repayment, but the moral weight is heavy. He saved me from a fate worse than what I faced, positioning me away from the clutches of the mansion-bound guy. His intervention leaves me feeling both exposed and grateful; however, despite my wounded pride, a flicker of relief ignites within me. That money means I can settle all my debts and funnel whatever remains into Gina’s care. It establishes a path toward salvation I hadn’t dared to imagine—three months until I can finally escape Club Edge and the café feels refreshingly close. Summer looms with promises of practice, family time, and perhaps a life beyond mere survival. An hour later, just as I’m preparing to head to the café, a message arrives from an unknown number. My gut tightens as I recognize Jericho’s touch in the words: *I’ll send a car to pick you up from your aunt’s at seven. We’re going to the Artisan. See you then. J.* He still calls himself J, and he must know about my temporary stay at Gina’s—details I dread to unveil. Curiosity ripples through me, but not before fear lays its shadow over my thoughts. The Artisan, an elite club known for its exclusive live art performances, is somewhere I had only dreamed of stepping foot within—its walls reserved for the affluent. For ordinary people like me, entry is an unattainable fantasy. But for someone like Jericho Grayson? The gates would swing open as easily as Moses parting the Red Sea. As I hastily craft my response—*Okay*—my mind races with questions. What awaits me tonight when I face him? What are his expectations for the sixty grand he spent?