A short catwalk divides the room. Couches fill the other space. That’s when I notice it. The unmistakable sounds of sucking, moaning, and grunting. Pleasure.

It’s almost too much to take in. My senses overwhelm as I continue to follow my guide closer to the couches. There are a few glass tables. A man goes to his knees, drops his head to the table and snorts a line of what I assume is cocaine.

Two strippers stand on the cat walk, kissing, hands running over the other’s body while a few men stand by stroking themselves. Oh, god! My steps falter. I avert my eyes. So, that’s happening.

In the corner sits a sectional sofa. The dim lighting here casts shadows on three other men, all reclining on the couch, pants open. The heads of three women move up and down while on their knees, naked but for their tiny thongs that barely cover a thing.

“The rougher, the better.” A deep voice pulls me from my thoughts. My eyes flick to the man who led me inside this place. Drugs. Gambling. Sex. Pretty sure all of this is illegal. Deep inhale. Don’t freak out. I’m sure I can excuse my way out and leave before anyone’s the wiser.

“Yeah, bitch, suck me.” A familiar tenor drags my attention to the couch.

“Daddy?” I gasp in shock. His eyes meet mine. Time stands still. My father is here. What the fuck?

“Kate?” He pushes the blonde head off and zips his pants, a look of pure rage in his eyes. “What are you doing here?”

“I—Uh—I—I’m—”

“She’s one of the hired bitches,” Bunhead says.

“I always knew you were good for nothing. College was the biggest waste of my goddamn money. The moment you came home knocked up I knew you were nothing but a whore. Look at you now! You’re just a hired hooker. Looks like not much has changed.” He seethes.

“You son of a—” Everything unfolds, chaos interrupting the private back room of sin. Jon appears and charges my dad, arm cocked and ready to fight. Jon’s other hand grips the collar of Dad’s shirt, effectively pulling him to his toes.

“Who the fuck are you? Her pimp?” Jon’s fist connects with my father’s face, snapping it back with such force I fear he’s killed him with one punch. Screams fill my ears, chairs scrape, a crowd forms. My father staggers, pulls himself to his full height, his gaze unclear as his head bobbles. A stream of blood flows from a gash on his cheekbone.

His words choke. I can’t breathe. I stare at the man I’m supposed to love. I feel nothing. His ugly, twisting scowl accusing me of things no man should ever say to his child. His eyes focus and then wander, and it hits me that he’s high as a kite.

“Kate! Let’s go!” Jon’s demanding voice whispers against my ear. He pulls me against him. “Now!” I snap out of my haze and shake off his touch, and take long strides to follow him out the back exit. We hit the door and he’s jogging. I attempt to keep up, but trip on the gravel. Jon’s arms grab me before I fall flat on my face. He holds my hand in his, and races us back to the truck.

“Kate, keys!” That’s right. I have the keys. I fish inside my corset top where I stored them, and click the remote. I climb inside the passenger seat and reach over to shove the key in the ignition. Jon races around the front of the truck and hops in his door. “Shit.” He curses under his breath.

I glance out the window to where at least a dozen men file out the back exit. At least two hold guns. The engine roars to life and we peel out of the lot. Tires squeal. A fume of dirt billows behind the truck.

My heart hammers in my chest. I’m gasping for breath as if I’ve run a marathon. Jon grips the wheel, steady and calm. The only indication of nerves is the throbbing vein in his neck and the speed at which he takes each turn.

We’re both silent. The sounds of the vehicle accelerating and decelerating fill the cab. I stare out the window. The world goes by in a blur of color and light. I can’t seem to focus my eyesight. I don’t even know where we’re driving.

“Uh.” He clears his throat. “I’ll take you to Hell’s Rock now.” His voice is soft but the words haul me from my stupor.

“No.”

“No?”

“Can you please just take me home?” I will my voice to hold confidence, but it sounds weak to my own ears.

“But what about the show?” His words hold no emotion. I can feel his gaze so I pick at the polish on my nails.

“I’m not in the mood, okay?”

Without a response he turns the truck home, his speed slowed to the legal limit. My mind drifts to the darkened room of drugs and sex. What the hell was my father doing there? My head throbs. Remembering his words is a punch to the stomach all over again. He thinks I’m a whore. Damn him. Damn my mother too. Memories scratch at the surface. Ones I don’t want to feel. Ones I’ve worked so hard push away.

“Kate, are you okay?” Jon’s calculating eyes search my own. I realize the truck’s off and we’re parked. I can see the apartment door. I need my mat.

I’m out the truck and racing to the door as fast as my heels will carry me. I open the door and traipse down the short hall to my room, unzipping my boots before I’m even there. Just the thought of shutting the world out allows me to fill my lungs with air.

Unrolling my mat, I fall to my knees and force my mind to center on my practice. To block out the past. Dismiss the words and feelings banging at the surface of my consciousness.

“Kate. What’s going on?” Jon’s at my doorway, but I ignore him. Will him to go away. I can’t do this with him there. My breaths come in quick and rushed and my head feels light.

“Kate!” Jon’s on my mat. He pulls me up from the floor and to his chest.

“I can’t—I don’t—please, just let go!”

“Damn it, Kate! Let me in! Just talk to me!” He shakes me again. My eyes finally find his and I’m met with anguish instead of the anger I expect.

“Please,” he whispers, and it’s my undoing. The humility in his plea. The roughness of his voice. I’m tired. So incredibly tired of carrying this secret within and I want him to know. I want him to see me, raw and exposed, no smokescreens to hide the sadness that fills my soul. Just me. Just Kate.

SHE’S WAVERING, BATTLING SOMETHING INSIDE. I watch and I wait. Her eyes fill with determination and I can only hope she’s deciding to trust me.

“Okay.” It’s a whisper and had I not been watching her lips I might’ve missed her reply.

“Okay,” she croaks as she finds her voice. She accepts my arm and I steady her as we stand.

“Coffee? Tea?” She shakes her head.

“No. If I don’t tell you now I’m sure I’ll lose my nerve.” I look around the space, then pull her to Evie’s bed. We sit next to each other in the dark room. Light from the hallway peeks through the open door. Shadows cross her desolate face.

“Kate, does this have something to do with what your dad said tonight?” Anger boils in my veins and I recall how I easily could have beaten him to a pulp had I not caught the look on Kate’s face. She was more important than that piece of shit, so I grabbed her and got the hell out of there.

“Yes. It’s the reason I don’t speak to my parents anymore. It’s the reason I’m so sad some days that I can barely breathe. It’s the reason I don’t trust anyone but myself.” She smiles sadly, but meets my gaze. A single tear rolls down her cheek.

“You can trust me, Kate.” She nods with her chin trembling.

“Yeah. I think I can.” She takes an audible inhale. My eyes never leave her face, but she turns her stare back through the open doorway.

“I’m not sure how much you heard tonight, so I’ll start at the beginning. You know Evie and I went away to college in Colorado. We had a great time experiencing all the college norms, you know, keg stands and beer pong, late night study sessions and college boyfriends.” She pauses a moment to smile softly. Her face pinches then, and she picks at the polish on her nails. I don’t even know if she realizes she’s doing it. I weave my left arm inside her right and interlock our fingers.