Chapter 1

He had never been to this bar before, and there was probably a reason for that. The stench of cigarette smoke burned his nose even before he went inside. Nicotine stains had yellowed the wallpaper inside and it was more crowded than he had imagined. The blue lights on the walls were out in some places, and the noise inside was almost deafening.

Where the hell is she?

Nate's eyes scanned the bar quickly, barely taking notice of the redhead who had unbuttoned her shirt and was flashing a blue lace bra to a group of men in the back corner. Loud, raucous laughter caught his ears and he turned his head, seeing a group of men a few years older than him throwing back shots near the bar. His gut clenched, knotted painfully.

She was somewhere in here.

"I'm just saying," a guy to his left was saying to a friend, "that girl look liked she was twelve. We probably should've called her a cab."

Nate didn't hear the beginning of his buddy's reply as he turned to them, cutting neatly into their conversation. "The girl," he bit out, his blue eyes flashing, "where is she?"

The two friends exchanged nervous glances. The one he had overheard pointed to a curtain behind them. Without another word, Nate shoved between them and stalked across the floor. He yanked back the curtains, not sure what he was quite expecting.

Jenny had sounded wrecked on the phone, and watching her stagger out of Eleanor's with Agnes—since when was she hanging out with Agnes again?—hadn't made him feel any better. Something was off with the whole situation.

Nate stepped into the room and his heart sank to his knees. Save for one bartender to the side, the room was deserted. He glanced down at his phone. The map displayed showed that she was here.

He frowned and hit redial, waiting as the phone began to ring. He heard the muffled ringtone from the couch and moved forward, finding her phone beneath several cushions.

Swallowing hard, Nate looked around the room once more, desperately searching for any signs of Jenny as his stomach twisted harder and the truth crashed down around him.

Jenny was gone.

She felt strange. Wrong.

Like the time she was six and spent the night at Claire Orton's apartment—her first sleepover. She remembered waking up, but knowing something was off before her eyes opened. This wasn't her bed, this wasn't how her room felt, and that wasn't the sounds of her parents making breakfast in the next room.

That was how she felt now.

This wasn't her bed. She knew that much before her eyes opened. And this wasn't her room. The smell was musty and thick and stale. It smelled like a locker room.

Jenny pried her eyes open, wincing against the light from the window across the room. Her head pounded painfully, throbbing and pulsating. She was going to be sick.

She was flat on her back, staring up at the white ceiling. It tilted and spun, she could feel her world shifting on its axis.

She slowly pushed herself up onto her elbows, the well used sheets dragging across her body. Blinking, she started to take in her surroundings.

There was a stack of books across the room in a haphazard pile, clothes hung out of ever drawer of a four tiered dresser that had clearly seen better days. She looked down and realized, thankfully, she was the only person in the queen-sized bed and that her dress was still in place.

Swallowing back a sob, she shifted her legs and dangled them, bare, over the side of the bed. Her feet hit the wood floor and moved across something rough. She glanced down, her stomach rolling as she saw her stockings on the floor.

Please, God, no…

Her underwear were crumpled a foot away from her feet.

Jenny hung her head, letting her chin drop to her chest. Taking in a shuddering breath, she slipped out of the bed, wincing at the sharp pull between her legs, confirming her fears.

She felt her hands beginning to tremble and knew it was only a matter of time before she was shaking beyond control. She needed to get her things and get out as fast as possible.

Jenny bent over and grabbed her stockings and underwear, balling them in one fist. Her purse and heels had been cast aside near the window. She struggled to get the shoes on and then stumbled blindly towards the door, the throbbing in her temples threatening to bring her to her knees. She made it out of the bedroom, never bothering to look back. She shoved the undergarments into her purse and stopped to listen, grateful when she was met with silence.

She made it into a sparsely decorated living room. The kitchen was off to the right and she could see a pile of dirty dishes in the sink, but no one else seemed to be around. Jenny spotted a phone mounted to the wall by the kitchen, but quickly dismissed the idea of calling anyone.

She didn't know who to call, and even if she did call someone, she had no idea where she was. And then there was the possibility that whoever lived here might come home…

She shuddered and kept moving for the front door, her heels clicking hollowly across the floorboards. The door had five locks on it, but only the first one was bolted. She easily undid it and opened the door, throwing it open and rushing into the hallway.

Jenny let out a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding and slammed the door shut behind her. She whirled, all but running for the door that marked the stairwell down the hall. She pushed past an older Hispanic woman who gave her an angry expression and shoved open the door of the stairwell.

She ran down the stairs, nearly tripping several times. Three steps from the bottom, her ankle rolled and she fell, falling in a heap at the bottom. Her palms burned and her knees stung, but she forced herself upright, clutching her purse.

Jenny came out the ground level of the building and wound her way through the hallways until she saw the main exit. She pushed past a woman and her toddler and hit the street at a run.

The sunlight was blinding and startling to her. Jenny stopped to catch her breath and felt her legs beginning to shake. Several people were looking at her now.

It was at that moment she spotted a bus stop at the corner and a bus rounding the corner two blocks up. She made it to the stop as the bus pulled to the curb and she jumped on, digging in her purse for her wallet.

She found it and was gratefully surprised to see it still had money in it. She shoved some bills at the bus driver and hurried to the back, collapsing on a bench by herself. She set her purse on the seat beside her and pulled her knees up to her chest, hugging them.

Jenny rested her chin on her knees and stared out the window as the bus started down the street and wished the whole thing was a bad dream, but somehow she knew that was just wishful thinking. It wasn't reality.

In reality, she had just lost her virginity to a guy she didn't know, and never would. Humiliation burned in her chest and she allowed herself one tear to slide out.

She figured her innocence was worth one tear.